CHANGING THE PLAYER: Charleston Pirates #1 by Chance, Jacob (digital e reader TXT) 📕

Boston. He draws me to his chest, and I wrap my arms securely around him. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s the least I can do. I’m so sorry about your grandfather.”

“What happened?” he asks.

“I’m so sorry. We rushed off so fast, I never even told you. He had a massive heart attack.”

“Fuck.” His sigh is heavy.

I tighten my arms around him. “It’ll be okay.”

“I hope you’re right, but I don’t have a good feeling about this. He’s old and he’s been missing my grandmother since she passed. This might be too much for him to come back from.”

“Just hope for the best and know that he loves you, no matter what happens.”

“Yeah.” His reply is gravelly with emotion.

I give him a squeeze and step back, my gaze on his face. His eyes are red and he looks like he’s lost. “Get dressed. Kendra will be here soon.”

He nods. “Right.”

“I’ll see you downstairs.”

Kendra comes in as soon as I’m in the kitchen. I give her a hug and step back to see what kind of emotional state she’s in. Her eyes are rimmed in red and I can tell she’s been doing a lot of crying.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“I just can’t believe Grandpa could die. I know he’s old, but I always imagined he’d be around for years to come.”

“Don’t give up. He still could be.” I open Flynn’s fridge and take out lunch meat, mustard, and mayonnaise. Placing them on the counter, I grab the fresh loaf of bread and prepare some sandwiches for him. “Do you want one?” I ask Kendra.

“No, I can’t eat anything right now. My stomach is too unsettled.”

“It might help it feel better,” I offer.

“I think I’ll fill my empty stomach with alcohol on the plane instead. It might make it easier to deal with seeing Grandpa hooked up to all those machines.”

“It could make you even more emotional. Alcohol is a depressant,” I point out.

“Well, right now I’m depressed, so that sounds like a good match.”

I have no reply for her, so I wrap Flynn’s sandwiches up in foil and grab a couple bottles of water.

His familiar footfalls come down the stairs and move closer until he’s in the kitchen with us. Kendra launches herself at him, sobbing uncontrollably. Holding her, he pats her back while looking helplessly at me. I tap my wrist to remind him of the time, and he sets Kendra away from him.

“We need to get going or we’ll miss our flight,” he reminds her.

She nods and swipes her fingertips under her eyes. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Flynn, I made you sandwiches and there’s water too.”

“What would I do without you?” he asks.

“Good thing you don’t need to know,” I joke, trying to lighten the somber mood.

He cups my cheeks. “I’ll text you when we get there and call you when I know anything.” Leaning down, he lightly presses his lips to mine.

“I wish I were going with you,” I tell him.

“It’s okay.”

Kendra clears her throat to get our attention. We’re dragging our goodbye out too long.

“Safe travels,” I say.

He raises my hand, pressing his lips against my skin. “We’ll talk soon.”

22

Flynn

Kendra drives us to the airport, which gives me a chance to scarf down three of the sandwiches Nadia made for me. She’s a godsend to my life in every way. I’m not sure how we didn’t end up together before our arrangement started. I guess it’s one of those situations where I was busy looking past what was right in front of me all along.

Balling up the leftover tin foil, I throw it to the floor.

“Hey,” Kendra snarls. “Don’t throw your trash around my car. It’s bad enough I had to watch you eat those like a wild animal.”

“I’m not going to apologize for all I eat. Practice was wicked hard and I worked up an appetite.”

“Do you think Grandpa will hold on until we’re there?” Kendra asks, sounding more like a scared little girl than the grown woman she is. But as her older brother, I know she’s looking to me for reassurance.

“If there’s a way for him to do it, he will.” That’s the best I have to offer. There’s a very real chance he won’t and we’ll never have a chance to say goodbye.”

Kendra stops at a red light, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “God, this sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” My thoughts wander to how I had shared with Nadia a few weeks ago how much I missed him and wanted to go visit. And now it might be too late. Goddammit. Hang on, Grandpa. We’re on our way.

* * *

My parents greet us in the ICU waiting room with hugs. Under the circumstances, they seem to be holding up well.

“What are the doctors saying?” I ask, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

My dad shakes his head. “It’s not looking good. They rushed him into surgery earlier and found a blocked artery they had to stent. He made it through the surgery, but they’re having difficulty getting his heart rate to stabilize. The next twenty-four hours are crucial.”

“Can we see him?” I question.

“Press the buzzer and they’ll let you through the main door. His room is the first one on the right.”

Kendra and I wordlessly follow our dad’s instructions. The door gets unlocked from the nurses’ station and we pass through, one step closer to seeing something neither of us is prepared for.

I hate the smell of hospitals. It doesn’t matter what state I’m in, or even what country, they all have that same medicinal, stale air smell to them. It makes me want to hold my breath, but I’ll settle for breathing out of my mouth instead. I hate the gloomy feel to them with their drab, chalky walls and tiled floors. The sad loved ones roaming about the halls and waiting rooms are heartbreaking. Everything about being here is awful, especially the sight of my once larger-than-life grandpa lying in a hospital bed, connected to