Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“Uh…not much?” I give my dirty blond stubble beard an uncomfortable scratch. “Because they think I’m her co-worker-”
“Why would they think that?” Bricks cautiously interrogates.
“I…might’ve…said…we were…working together when the incident occurred.” Adelstein’s face instantaneously furrows pushing me to harshly croak. “It wasn’t a lie! I was volunteering too!”
“Point Eeyore,” Hennington calmly claims.
“They couldn’t divulge much information – since I’m not her emergency contact and shit – but they did give me some.”
Adelstein winds her finger around for me to continue.
“No concussion.”
“That’s impressive considering you check like a fucking freight train even in warmies,” the GM mutters not very quietly.
“I didn’t check her, Hennington! I just tripped, unplugged the cord, and fell on top of the damn thing while she was tryin’ to get out!”
“Are you fuckin’ yelling at me?” Her hands stop their circling motion at the same time she quirks an eyebrow. “You really that desperate to get benched?!”
“You wouldn’t bench your captain the night before the season opener,” Bricks idiotically argues.
“They call them alternate captains for a fucking reason,” she snips over her shoulder to the man about a decade younger than her.
Yeah.
I’m not the only one around here that apparently needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut.
At least it only affects my career.
Not how often I get my dick touched.
Which is never – by anyone who isn’t me – for those putting up points on the board.
But that’s by choice.
And my free agent status is the last shit we should be discussing at the moment.
“Did she suffer any injuries?” Adelstein cautiously investigates. “Minor or major? I need to you be clear and concise and comprehensive because everything you say will be included in my preliminary report to legal.”
Hennington’s loud whine practically rattles the windows. “Do we really have to fucking involve legal? Don’t they have enough other shit to deal with right now?”
“A volunteer at an event hosted by the club was attacked-”
“I didn’t attack her!”
“-by not only one of our players, but one of our veterans who has been entrusted with being the face as well as spokesman for the entire team. Of course, we have to involve legal.”
Fuck. Me.
This shit better not get me traded.
I can’t afford to move Bella again.
Especially away from my mom who has been a huge fucking lifesaver since I became the only parent, she has a little over a year ago.
Correction.
I’ve always been the only real parent she’s had.
I’m now just the only one that’s still alive.
“Didn’t she sign a fucking waiver or something so we wouldn’t be liable if anything like this were to happen?” Hennington huffs on a flick of hair away from her face. “Isn’t that the whole fucking point of waivers?”
Exasperation makes an undeniable home on Adelstein’s face. “Yes. However-”
“I would’ve liked it if you stopped at yes,” grumbles the GM.
“-the waiver doesn’t exactly cover us for an instance where one of the players is directly the reason for the injury. So, while we probably don’t have to worry about a lawsuit – her personnel file has no history or pattern of this behavior – we should be prepared to cover the cost of the injuries sustained as well as any care required to overcome or correct them. Once I have that information, I can write up a summary for legal and CC accounting to prepare an expense report.”
“This is so coming out of your bonus,” Hennington growls prior to leaning closer to her second in command to whisper. “Can we do that?”
Adelstein rolls her eyes at her boss and redirects her attention to me, “Alexeyev, what else did the doctor inform you of?”
“Nothing’s broken, aye, but she’s got a couple bruiskies.”
“Dress probably absorbed most of the blow. Those ballgowns have more padding than your practice gear,” Bricks playfully adds, successfully getting a small smirk out of his wife.
Thank fuck someone around here is getting the scoreboard to talk.
“Where?” Adelstein’s fingers tap the notes on her tablet.
“Leg? Hip?”
“Are those questions or answers, Alexeyev?”
“Both?”
“Fucking plug,” Hennington immediately grumbles.
“Fucking fined,” Bricks grunts in return.
“Fucking shush,” Adelstein commands without missing a beat. “Both of you.” Their lips press together yet mine remain in the paralyzed state they’ve been in pretty much since I came out here for this ass chewing. “Alexeyev…” Her voice lowers in an irrefutably terrifying way. “Do you recall the doctor saying anything else?”
“Just that her records state she has a history of dissociative amnesia – whatever the fuck that is – so I shouldn’t be too shocked if she doesn’t remember who I am right away.”
Which if you ask me, isn’t a bad thing.
Hell, if she doesn’t remember me at all it’ll be a W.
And I will take as many of those as I can fucking get.
Bench Boss in the sky knows I fucking need ‘em.
“Wait. Wait. Wait. Whistle on the play,” Hennington loudly claims, claw hands returning. “Did you say this broadskie has amnesia?”