Celestra Forever After (29 page)

“Skyla!” My mother’s voice bites through the air. “He’s injured. Please give him some rest.”

The doctor comes in and saves me from having to rip my mother a new one. Truth be told, I don’t have the voice or energy right now.

“Gage?” A tall man hunched over himself plods forward as if he just crawled out of a casket. “I have some news.” He gives a brief glance to Skyla. “Would you prefer we speak alone?”

“No, this is fine.”

“Gage.” Mom steps forward, twirling the pearls around her neck until it looks as if she’s about to strangle herself. “I think we should keep it just family for now—in the event there’s terrible news, or perhaps it’s something you might be embarrassed about.”

“Skyla
is
family.” I’m quick to rise to her defense even if it did send a piercing pain down my back. If I were feeling halfway human—hell halfway
angelic
—I’d rattle Skyla’s ring finger at her.

“That’s fine by me.” The doctor opens his laptop and scans the information. “It looks like you have some swelling at the base of your neck. It’s nothing too scary, just a contusion.” He grimaces. “And, I’m afraid that you have a significant narrowing of the spine in that region as well. Gage, have you had any pain, or difficulty moving that area?”

“Of course, he hasn’t.” Mom takes up my other hand. “He’s healthy as a horse.”

“A
Clydesdale
.” Skyla winks down at me, and I break out a tiny smile. My balls miss her touch just looking at her.

“That may be”—the doctor starts—“but what Gage has is spinal stenosis. It’s a congenital condition, so there’s nothing you could have done to cause or prevent this.”

“So, then—I’m fine, right? I’ve played football all my life and never had a problem.”

“Not so fast.” He glances at Mom a moment. “You’ve been very lucky so far. One wrong hit and you could be staring down the barrel of paralysis. I’m afraid I can’t send you back on the field with a good conscience.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” I glance at Dad for a second. “You work for Tusk?” It wouldn’t surprise me. “I’m fine. I play football. That’s what I do. That’s who I am. Nobody is taking that away from me.”

He closes his laptop and makes his way toward the door. “I’m not here to take anything away from you, Gage. I’m here to try and prevent you from taking something precious away from yourself—your ability to walk.” He turns to my dad. “Otherwise he should be fine once the swelling subsides in a few days. The longer he plays, the more he runs the risk of a permanent injury. It’s not a matter of if—it’s a matter of when.” He looks back to me. “I’m sorry, Gage. I understand this will be hard for you to accept, but with the support of your family, I think you’ll be fine.” And with that piece of shit news, he walks out the door.

I don’t think I’ll be fine. I don’t think there’s enough support in the world to keep me off that field. I give a hard sniff.

“You guys mind giving me a minute?” I can hardly croak out the words.

“Why don’t we get some coffee?” Dad opens the door and motions for my mother.

“Not without Skyla,” she snips.

Crap. I’m not in the mood to deal with my mother’s BS. Her insecurities are the least of my worries.

“Gage?” Skyla looks down as if asking the question.

“I’ll be fine. You mind picking me up a soda?”

“Two hits of Pepsi, one hit of Dr. Pepper?”

“You know how I like it.” I give her hand a squeeze.

I wait until they’re gone before I sink into the hole that’s swallowed me down. Who knew I had hit the grass for the very last time. Football was my life for so many years. I thought maybe, in some far reaching reality, I might actually go pro. At least that way I’d get to provide a nice life for Skyla. But it’s done.
I’m
done. My insides buck, and I lose it. Tears sear their way down my cheeks, and I press my lips together hard to keep from all out boo-hooing.

A brisk knock comes from the door, and I wipe down my face with the back of my arm.

“Room for one more?”

I recognize that voice—see his face and still don’t believe it.

“Logan?” My body sparks back to life. A burst of adrenaline shoots through me, and suddenly I have enough energy to run a lap around the facility.

“It’s me.” He walks over with a sheepish smile. “Dude.” He leans in and wraps his arms around me loose as if I were made of glass. “I’ve missed you, big guy.”

“Missed you, too.” I mean every word right down to my aching bones. Logan is my brother in every way.

“I heard what happened—actually, I was there.” He grabs a seat and scoots in close.

“Are you back for good? Or you just messing with our heads again?”

He closes his eyes a moment at the dig. “I’m staying. I’m helping Ellis at the bowling alley on days that you and Skyla aren’t scheduled. I haven’t seen her yet.” He blows out a breath. “Heard about the wedding.” He cracks a smile. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for the both of you.” Something in his eyes says he’s being genuine. “Don’t worry about this.” He flicks a finger toward my neck. “Skyla might be able to take care of it if you let her.”

“No.” I close my eyes—half with relief half with self-pity. Is that really what I want? To use Skyla’s blood, her
standing
to bail my body out whenever I need it? “We’ll see. I’ll probably go it alone.”

“Don’t let pride keep you off that field. I saw that game tonight. You put up a good fight.”

“I’m not fighting now—am I?” And, by the looks of things, I don’t think I’ll ever get to fight again. I let the thought dart out of my head like a bird off to greener pastures. “So what’s new with you? Liam says you’re at Dudley’s. You okay over there?”

“I’m fine. And where are you and Skyla living?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Take the house on Whitehorse.”

“No way.” That’s the house Logan built for Skyla—Skyla and him. It’s not up for debate, there’s no way in hell I’m headed that way. “Come home. You don’t belong at Dudley’s. You belong with us.” I let out a breath. “With Skyla and me.”

“Soon.” He taps my leg. “I’m rooting for you guys. I’m not here to interfere. Next time”—he points hard at me on his way out the door—“we’ll talk shop. Counts are up to no good. You know about Demetri’s son?”

“Wesley.”

“He’s a pawn, but dangerous as shit. I’m going to end the mystery of why he’s wearing your face, and when I do, I’ll be back.” He lingers by the door a moment.

“Logan?”

“What’s up?”

“Don’t ignore me when I call you.” I give a weak smile. “Pick up the damn phone.”

“Got it.” He mock shoots me, and he’s gone.

I settle back into my pillow and close my eyes. Seeing Logan felt better than any amount of morphine—any street drug ever could. And knowing Skyla will be in my arms later feels just as great. With the two of them in my life, who needs football?

A tiny voice in the back of my head says me.

Logan

A week drifts by, and I check in with Barron every day to see how Gage is doing. He’s still taking it easy, but he hasn’t missed any school which is what I wanted to hear. I know he’s got to be pretty down about losing his field privileges, hell, I feel the same way. Maybe we could start our own league—the dead and the injured.

Liam and I are doing time at the bowling alley tonight, closing down the kitchen for the evening. We’ve got another half hour before I lock the doors then it’s back to Dudley’s.

I spot Ellis in the corner trying to gnaw off Giselle’s face, and my stomach turns at the sight. Crap. Barron will have my balls if I bear witness to Harrison assaulting his daughter and don’t do a thing about it.

“
Ellis
,” I bark. “Come here and help me knock out some shoes.”

Liam slaps me over the arm. “Check out the eye candy.”

I turn to find two refreshingly familiar faces coming my way. They stop dead in their tracks. Their mouths open wide as if they were about to yawn or scream, most likely the latter.

“Holy crap!” Michelle deadpans.

“Michelle Miller and Lexy Bakova.” I slump into a warm smile. Whoever thought they’d be a sight for sore eyes?

They bum-rush me and offer up a tackle hug that nearly knocks me over.

“We were starting to give up on you.” Michelle cinches her arm around my waist, but it slides right off when she spots Liam. “Who is
this
side of beef?”

“Liam—my brother.”

“God up in heaven!” Michelle holds her breath a moment, looking a little too transfixed by my big bro. “I don’t care where you came from, but I’m glad you’re in my life.”

“Who says he’s in your life?” Lex steps forward with her hair blunt at the base of her neck, her high-tops sit loose without laces.

“Back off, Bakova,” Michelle says it like she means business. Both Michelle and Lexy are easy on the eyes, but neither are for me. And, by the looks of things, it’s not me they’re interested in anyway—it’s Liam.

“Have you seen Paragon?” Michelle threads her arm in his, and Liam doesn’t protest. “I mean
really
seen it.” She licks her lips. Her lids hang heavy. “I can show you things most boys only wish they could see.”

Ellis swoops in. “Looks like good old Liam is set to bag half the island.”

Lexy looks over at me. “Who are you bagging these days, Oliver?”

Crap. How do I explain my newfound celibate status? Celibate—even the word strikes terror in my balls. I’ve been lending myself a helping hand, but it’s going to be a long dry season until I finally get to be with Skyla again—and when I do, I’ll lose Gage, so I can’t even think about that.

“I’m bagging the bowling alley.” True as shit. Getting screwed every time I make a deposit. I glance around at the cavernous vagina I’m still trying to keep afloat and nod. Sounds about right.

“So you ready to do this?” Ellis slaps a hand over my shoulder as if I should know what the hell he’s talking about.

“Do what?” Unless, of course, he’s trying to get me out of the ball-busting conversation I’m having with Lex, then I get it—and blew it.

She gives Ellis a dirty look before turning to Liam and Michelle.

Ellis leans in. “The big Count meet and greet tonight—special invite only. I’ll let you tag along. I even asked my dad—he said whatever. I figure you’d want to get the lowdown.
Emerson
is going.” He nods over to Giselle. It’s nice he’s trying to keep track of her identities, especially when others are within earshot. It’s times like these I think he really is into my niece.

“Hanging with the Counts, huh? What’s the topic? How to kiss Wesley’s ass?”

“Nope. Regrouping.”

“Regrouping.” That’s exactly what I thought the Counts would do. “Well then, it looks like we’ve got a faction meeting to get to.”

Arson Kragger’s estate is dauntingly huge, as are most Counts’ homes—at least the heavy hitters. After all, they’re the ones who for years would siphon a little off the top. The Counts are notorious for shaking down the other factions for money to “protect” them. But after the faction war, Celestra was officially restored to power with Skyla as the overseer. Any shit laws they want to put into play will get snuffed out by my favorite beautiful blonde, and they can’t do a thing about it—except, of course, regroup in an effort to go around Skyla. The only silver lining is that some of the good Counts might be moved to rat them out, then Skyla can take them to a higher court, the Justice Alliance.

Giselle bubbles with a laugh as she drags Ellis up toward the oversized leaded-glass doors. “After this, I’ll show you my bedroom. It has a hot tub and everything.”

“
Shh
. Of course, I’ll go.” He glances over at me, and I shake my head at him.

“Not if you want to keep your balls you won’t.”

“Got it.” Ellis doesn’t bother hiding his smirk. “We’ll probably just take a drive out to Devil’s Peak.” He tweaks her ribs, and she titters out a laugh.

Why do I get the feeling that’s not any more chaste than the hot tub?

The velvet fog moves along with us and streams right inside the doors of the goliath estate as if it too were curious with what the Counts have to say tonight.

The marble floors look freshly polished. The first thing that smacks you in the face when you get inside is the grand staircase crafted from ornate iron—the overall cavernous effect of the home in general.

“Where is everyone?” It’s so quiet inside, I can hear myself breathing.

“Oh, they never hold meetings here.” Giselle is quick with the partial explanation.

“They open a portal and shit like that.” Ellis leads us to the back where there’s a familiar looking scumbag keeping guard over a set of French doors that lead out to the yard, but judging by the dense blue fog, it leads to much more sinister places tonight.

“Ingram.” I step toward the fool who’s guarding the portal. He’s older, hunched over himself, and his skin glows a sickly yellow. “Long time no smell.” I give a bleak smile. Ingram is doing time in the Tenebrous Woods, that’s where I usually see him and—oh shit—I have a feeling I know where we’re going.

“Welcome back, Sir Oliver. Your Elysian duties haven’t been required of you as of late. I suppose you and your ladylove appreciate the benefits of not tending to each other in the tunnels. It’s no ball watching someone you loathe suckling off the woman you love.” He cuts his gaze across the vast room. “I should know.”