Written in the Scars(33)
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jiggs says, “I’m glad you’re going. But what changed? The last time I talked to you the question of you going back to coaching was up in the air.”
Elin’s face darts through my mind, the taste of her lips against mine. The feeling of her body wrapped up against me.
Everything was launched into perspective. Even though I don’t have answers on how to work everything out, I know there’s no other option, no matter how long it takes or how hard it is.
“I saw Elin last night,” I say simply.
“So you got some pussy?” Cord grins.
“We aren’t going to talk about fucking my sister,” Jiggs interjects, throwing up a shot. “I have limits, assholes.”
Laughing, I rebound the ball and press it against my hip. “I had relations with my wife.” Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Jiggs’ eye. “Sound better?”
“Can we just say you talked to her? I can read between the lines.”
Chuckling, I pass the ball to Cord. “But I didn’t talk to her. Not yet.”
“Ah, so you just got down to the point—”
“Shut. Up. Cord,” Jiggs grimaces.
“I’m gonna deal with the boys first. Apologize for bailing like I did, maybe see if Reynolds needs a hand this season. Then I’ll go see my wife.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Cord says. “I like it.”
Jiggs turns to look at me. “I like it too.”
“I expect her to be pissed and for this to take some time, but she’s ready to work this out. I mean, she made me leave last night after we talked,” I smirk. “And that’s fine. I can handle that. I feel good about it today. Clear.”
Cord’s face lights up. “It’s about fucking time.”
“I—”
The sound of gravel crunching behind me cuts me off. We all look to the entrance of the park to see Pettis’ car pulling in.
“What the fuck does he want?” I spit.
“His rights terminated, maybe,” Cord laughs, an anger palpable in his tone. “Hopefully.”
Pettis gets out of the car.
I’ve hated this fucker since high school. He’s a year older than me. When I took the starting point guard position on the basketball team away from him my freshman year, things got heated. When Elin chose me over him, things got worse. They never recovered.
The chip on his shoulder has my name on it. We’ve gone head-to-head on just about everything, even our jobs in the mine. Seeing him pull up with that look on his face sends me into high alert. This look is one I’ve seen a million times over the years and it never—never—ends well.
“Hey, guys. Need another player?” he asks cheerfully.
“You can’t be fucking serious,” Jiggs laughs.
Pettis makes a face like Jiggs is crazy. “You’re an odd number. We can go two-on-two.”
“The only two-on-two that will happen around here if you don’t leave is two fists hitting you in the face,” Cord promises.
Pettis laughs and steps up to the court. “How are ya, Whitt?”
I eye him carefully. There’s nothing pleasant or coincidental about this run-in. While I’d really like to just dribble his face down the asphalt after the incident at Thoroughbreds, for some strange reason, I want to hear what he has to say.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Pettis says, sighing dramatically. “I’m sorry. You know, not everything is meant to be. Just keep your chin up and you’ll find—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jiggs asks, walking so that his shoulders are lined with mine and Cord’s.
Pettis flinches like he’s caught off guard. “What do you mean?” His eyes grow unnaturally wide, putting on a show for me and my friends. His hands come up in front of him in some form of defense.
His sight is set straight on me. He makes sure I’m paying attention, a smirk hidden beneath his false surprise.
My alert mode flips straight into kill mode. Although the source of this little meet-and-greet is still unknown, what I do know is that it’s going to end with me wanting to end him. Period.
Cord knows it too because I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. Reminding me he’s there and if I need help ending Pettis, he’s more than willing.
“Shut the fuck up, Pettis, and get to the part where you say whatever it is you showed up here to say or fucking beat it,” Cord says.
“Easy there, McCurry,” Pettis says, realizing just how precarious his situation might be. “I didn’t realize y’all didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” Jiggs asks. He flashes me a look, apologizing for asking because it is, in a way, feeding the troll. But he wants to know. We all do.