Around me, my teammates, coaches, and staff are celebrating. Confetti sticks to my hair, a big chunk of it tickling my neck where it’s stuck under my collar. I move past friends and well-wishers. Ivy. Where is Ivy? I need to see her like I need my next breath.
Through the sea of faces, I spy Drew making his way toward me. I let out another whoop and run to him. “Fucking hell, man,” I shout happily when I reach him. “We did it! Can you believe it?” I give him a bear hug, hauling him off his feet.
Drew chokes out a laugh, and I let him go so he can breathe. His smile is wide, but oddly forced. “You guys rocked, Gray-Gray.”
He sounds off. Shit, is he upset he didn’t get to play? I feel like an ass. Running my hand through my damp hair, I try to think of something to say, that he’ll soon be playing again. His leg will heal. But Drew steps in close, his expression suddenly tense. “Gray… Shit. Ivy’s been taken to back to the hotel.”
Sharp pricks of dread stab my face as my body goes rock hard. “What? Taken? What does that mean?”
People bump into us. The dark shape of a TV camera is in my periphery. But I focus on Drew.
He leans close. “Ivy had a miscarriage. I’m so sorry, man.”
It comes at me like a hard hit, shattering something deep in my chest. I can’t make myself move. A metallic taste fills my mouth, the ground beneath me tilting. “Is she okay?” Please God. All the blood seems to be draining from my head down to my toes.
“Rakin is with her.”
Rakin is one of our team physicians. I expel a breath, feeling a little better, then pin Drew with a look. “When?”
Drew just shakes his head. “Sometime during the game.”
I explode. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me sooner?”
“You were playing—” His fist pushes against my chest when I charge him. “And I didn’t know until five minutes ago. Anna just texted me.”
“Aw, yeah,” shouts a voice behind me. A second later, Rolondo slams into us, sending my shoulder pads into my jaw. “That’s what I’m talking about! Whoo!” His grin fades as he looks at me and Drew. “What’s going on?”
Drew gives a tight shake of his head. “Ivy.”
That’s all he says, but it’s enough. Fear surges once more. I sway, dizzy and sick to my stomach. We’re surrounded now, reporters moving in. Maybe they smell blood in the water, or maybe they just want a sound bite.
Rolondo puts his hand on my shoulder. “Go to your girl. We got this.” He turns, cutting the crowd off from me. “Who’s got a question?”
I take off running, cutting through the crowd like a hot blade. My head is pounding by the time I reach the locker room. My gear falls where I toss it. I’m hauling up my jeans when my dad walks in. I’ve managed to avoid him all day, and now he shows.
Time and hard living have left my dad wrinkled and paunchy. I don’t really look anything like him. He’s wiry and dark-haired, his frame a good four inches shorter than mine. I look a lot like my mom—something I know pisses him off. The only feature we share is the color of our eyes. Doesn’t matter that he’s responsible for giving me life; every time we’re in the same room, I instantly want out.
“Gray—”
“I don’t have time for this,” I grind out, jamming on my sneakers. My fingers shake as I try to tie them.
Dad takes a hard step forward, his face red. “You’re going to talk to me, goddammit.”
“No,” I snap. “I’m really not.”
“Listen up, young man—”
“My girl needs me.” I head past him.
He grabs my arm. “You’re walking out to see a piece of—”
I wrench free. “She is the woman I love. So show her some respect. She’s pregnant.” An ugly, raw sound breaks free. “Or was. She lost it. While I was on that field—”
Cursing, I turn away, head for the door. It takes me a second to see that my dad is following me. “I’ll drive you,” he says grimly.
“I don’t need you to drive.” But it hits me that I don’t have a ride.
Something my dad knows, as well. Even so, he can’t help but get a dig in. “Don’t give a shit what you think you need, son. I’m doing it.” He sighs, as he holds the exit door open. “I’m going to see that you get to your girl safely. Now let’s go.”