I stood and gave Josh a slap on the back. “You have fun with that. I’m going to go try and get some sleep.”
If only I had known the same dream would wake me back up only hours later.
Chapter Twelve – Jeff
Gunner sat on the bench with a bag of ice over his shoulder.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Hurts like a motherfucker. I need to go and get it looked at.”
I shook my head. “Damn, hopefully it isn’t anything too bad and doesn’t keep you from playing next year.”
With a laugh, Gunner replied, “Nothing will keep me from playing next year. Hell, it’s our last year.”
Coach yelled out for Gunner. “Mathews, go with Doc and get that shoulder looked at.”
“Want me to drive you?” I asked as Gunner stood.
“Nah. Josh said he would follow me in my truck. He ran to practice today, so he doesn’t have his truck.”
Before I could say anything, my phone went off in my bag with a text message. Ignoring it, I walked with Gunner toward Doc’s SUV.
“Let me know what they say after they look at your shoulder.”
My phone started ringing again. It wasn’t Ellie’s ringtone, so I continued to ignore it.
“I will. Will you be home later, or are you going out?”
“I’ll be home. Don’t worry about anything to eat; I’ll take care of it. Hopefully you will be in and out and it’s just a strain.”
Doc, the team doctor, walked up. “All right, Mathews, let’s go.”
When my phone rang again, a slight panic hit me. What if it was Ellie trying to get hold of me?
“Later, Gunner,” I quickly said as I dug into my bag for my phone. When I saw the name, I frowned.
Ari.
Turning toward my truck, I answered it. “Ari?”
The moment I heard her sniffles, I wanted to rip someone’s head off.
“What’s wrong?”
“I . . . I didn’t know who else to call.”
My heart was hammering in my chest. I looked at my watch and knew she was normally at the shelter about now.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“Where are you?” she asked, her voice sounding scared and weak.
“Just leaving practice.”
“Shit,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. I forgot Ellie said you had spring training. I’ll . . . um . . . let you go.”
“No!” I cried. “Tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt?”