The Other Game: A Dean Carter Novel (The Perfect Game #4) (9 page)

Brett propped me up as we headed toward the campus police office in the distance, its blue light illuminating the small building. We walked in silence, neither of us knowing what to say.

When we reached the door, Brett pulled it open and shouted, “We need some help out here.”

An older guy came around from behind a door and almost dropped his mug of coffee when he saw us. “Shit. Are you okay? What happened?” He placed the mug on top of the counter and moved around the desk that separated us.

“I think it looks worse than it is,” I said with a smile before wincing from the pain. Even the light in the room hurt; it was too bright, too glaring.

“Sergio, get out here,” the first cop yelled, and another guy appeared, his mouth half-filled with food.

“What the—”

“You boys want to tell us what happened to you tonight? I’m Officer Candalle, by the way, and this is my partner, Officer Santos.”

“I’m Dean, and this is Brett.”

“And you’re both students here at Fullton State?”

“Yes. Mind if I sit?” I motioned toward the uncomfortable-looking metal chair in the corner.

“No, of course. Do you need some ice?” Officer Candalle asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I honestly had no idea what I needed. All I knew was that my head hurt like a bitch and probably needed stitches. “Maybe some ibuprofen or something for the pain?”

Officer Santos frowned. “We’re not allowed to give you medication. Sorry. Maybe we should get you to the hospital. We can ask you questions from there,” he suggested, but I shook my head.

“Yeah, man, maybe we should get you looked at,” Brett said. I’d almost forgotten he was still there.

“Not yet. I need you guys to catch the piece of shit who hurt my sister,” I blurted without thinking.

Calling Cassie my sister had seemed like the smart thing to do. I knew from watching TV shows that if you weren’t related, people didn’t give you information. She was important to Jack, which meant she was important to me, so I needed to know everything there was to know about her situation.

Santos sat down across from me before giving his partner an order. “Lance, go grab the camera, please.”

“You’re going to record this?” I asked, assuming he was going to film my statement.

“Photograph. It’s standard procedure. We need evidence of all your injuries.” He glanced at Brett. “Do you have any injuries, or is that blood all his?”

Brett shook his head. “It’s all his.”

“We’ll still photograph your shirt,” he said as Officer Candalle came back carrying a digital camera similar to Cassie’s.

“Can you point out your injuries?” he asked, and when I pointed to the top of my head, he snapped a few photos.

He studied me, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Does your face hurt at all anywhere?”

“No, why?” I looked at Brett, wondering why he was asking.

Candalle shook his head. “Nothing major. Just a few superficial cuts. Can you tell us what happened while we take the rest of the pictures?”

He snapped away, taking pictures of my head, my face, and Brett’s shirt, while Santos typed quickly on his laptop.

“We were walking toward campus,” I said, “on our way to the softball fields, when some guy came out of nowhere and attacked my sister. She was behind us, so no one noticed at first.”

I felt light-headed, so I put my head between my legs for a moment. The room was quiet, and the officers waited patiently until I could continue.

“When I turned around, I saw her head fly to the side. He’d hit her. We all started running back for her at that point, but he hit her again. Then the next thing I remember was the guy telling me he had a gun, asking me if I wanted to die, and then I woke up with Brett carrying me across campus. But I’m sure more happened after I passed out. You have to ask my sister.”

“Can you describe the assailant?” Santos asked, still typing.

“He was about five foot eleven, but skinny. Looked like he weighed maybe a buck fifty, not muscular in build, but quick. He was damn fast on his feet,” I said, searching my mind for other details. “Oh, he had dark blond hair that went to his shoulders. It was stringy, and looked dirty. That’s all I remember.”

Candalle nodded and set aside the camera. “That’s great, really helpful. Anything else you can think of? Did he have any distinguishing marks that you can remember? Any tattoos? Scars?”

“Not that I recall,” I said, feeling like a failure.

“What about you, Brett. Did you get a good look at him?”

Brett shifted on his feet. “I didn’t, actually. I just saw Dean fall to the ground, and I knew I needed to get him out of the situation.”

Santos rose to his feet and came over to where I sat. “I’m not a doctor, but I did have some medical training. Do you want me to look at your head?”

“Please,” I said, and relaxed a little with relief.

He dug around in his desk and found a pair of latex gloves. Once he’d snapped them on, he leaned forward and gently moved sections of my hair aside to check my scalp. As he did, small shards of brown glass fell to the floor.

“It looks nasty, but it’s already stopped bleeding for the most part. I don’t think you need stitches, but keep an eye on it. I’m not a doctor, so I’d advise you to stop by the ER or urgent care and get it checked out.”

“Understood. Thank you, though,” I said.

As he pulled off his gloves and tossed them into the trash can, I closed my eyes for a second, wishing I had something for the pain. My head hurt like a bitch.

“You mentioned your sister. Where is she now?” Candalle asked, and I shifted in my seat.

“I don’t know. I hope she’s home by now, but I don’t know.”

“Can you find out? And what’s your full name and hers?”

I nodded, reaching for the cell phone in my pocket. “Dean Carter and Cassie Andrews,” I said as I called my brother’s number and held the phone away from my ear as it rang.

“Dean,” Jack said, sounding relieved when he answered the phone.

“Hey. Do you have her? Is she okay?” I asked, trying not to sound as frantic as I felt.

Candalle leaned closer to listen.

“We’re at her apartment. I was going to help her clean up her face,” Jack started to say, and Candalle overheard and lifted a hand in the air.

“Don’t let him clean off her injuries,” he said in a hushed tone. “We need to photograph them too and get a statement.”

I nodded and told Jack what the office had said.

“Okay. Are they coming now?”

I looked up at the officers and they both nodded. “Yeah, they’re on their way.”

Ending the call, I closed my eyes, willing the pain to subside, but knowing it never would on its own.

Brett stood up and said to the officers, “Do you think you could give us a ride to my car and then I’ll take Dean home?”

Santos nodded. “Of course, no problem. Dean, can you give us your phone number so we can get in touch with you if we have any more questions?”

I rattled off my number before pushing up from the chair. Much to my annoyance, I was still a bit wobbly on my feet.

“I got you.” Brett came over and reached out to brace me once more.

“Can you give us the address where your sister is?”

“Shit,” I said before pulling out my phone again and texting Jack. He responded within seconds, and I gave the cops the information as we made our way to the back of the small station house.

Buckled into the backseat of the police car, I remembered that Melissa was out of town and would have no idea what had happened. I didn’t know why she popped into my head when she did, but I fired off a text message to give her the CliffsNotes version of what happened tonight, and suggested that she check on her best friend.

My phone immediately rang and Melissa’s name flashed on the screen.

“Dean? Are you okay? What happened exactly? Where’s Cassie? And Jack?”

Her voice was shrill, the pitch so high I couldn’t handle it at the moment. “I can’t talk right now, I’m sorry. My head hurts.”

“Okay, okay, I understand. I wish I was there.”

“I’m glad you weren’t,” I admitted, thankful that she hadn’t been around tonight because she might have gotten hurt as well. The very thought made me sick.

“I’m going to check on Cassie. I’ll see you soon. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

I promised her that I would, and put my phone in my pocket. My head continued to pound. The officers dropped us off in front of Matt’s apartment, and Brett and I climbed out of the car.

After we thanked the officers for the ride, they assured me that they’d be in touch.

Brett motioned toward the stairs. “Do you want to come up first? I’m sure Matt has some aspirin or something for your head.”

“Yeah. Do you think they’re even here?” I hadn’t thought about anyone other than Cassie for what felt like hours, but was more like a handful of minutes.

“They’re here,” he said with a grimace. “They’ve been blowing up my phone.”

We walked slowly, Brett still helping me keep my balance as we navigated the stairs. When he raised his hand to knock on Matt’s door, I reached for my head.

“Please don’t.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he said before turning the knob and pushing the door open.

Matt and Jamie jumped to their feet and rushed toward us. “Fuck, man,” Matt said, “we’ve been so worried.”

I tried to wave them off, but they took me out of Brett’s care, each holding one of my arms.

“Seeing you collapse like that was some scary shit, man,” Matt said, which made me think about what it must have looked like from their perspective. “Are you okay?” he asked as they helped me toward their couch.

“My head is killing me. It feels like it’s murdering me with every breath I take. Please tell me you have some ibuprofen or something for this pain.”

Jamie headed for the kitchen and called over her shoulder, “I’ll go get you some. Anything else?”

“Just the ibuprofen. And water. Please.”

I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, begging for a reprieve from the pain, but all I saw was a different kind of pain. Cassie getting hit, and me running toward her. My eyes shot open to stop seeing the image of her like that, and Jamie was there, holding an Advil bottle and a water.

“Your hair.” She studied me and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

“That bad?” I had no idea what I looked like, and wasn’t looking forward to getting in front of a mirror.

“It’s pretty matted,” she said, frowning. “Is Cassie okay? Have you talked to her?”

“I talked to Jack. He’s with her now.”

“Oh, good. I bet he’s pissed, though,” she said before looking at Matt and Brett.

Matt winced. “I’m sure we’ll get an earful the next time we see him.”

“Speaking of, I need to call him before we leave.”

I pulled out my phone and glanced at Brett, who stood next to the couch, refusing to sit down in case the blood transferred from his shirt and stained the furniture. I hadn’t been as thoughtful.

“Where are you?” Jack said instead of saying hello.

“At Matt’s. Are you staying at Cassie’s tonight?” I asked, already assuming the answer.

“Yeah.”

“Can I stay there too?”

“Hold on.” He covered the phone, muting his voice for a moment. “She says it’s fine.”

“Okay, cool. Do you guys need anything?”

“I don’t think so. Hold on, I’ll double-check.” He covered the phone once more before saying, “She says no.”

“Do you think Cassie will care if I stay there all weekend?”

The last thing I wanted was to give Gran and Gramps something extra to worry about. If I looked as bad as Jamie seemed to think I did, I could only imagine how Gran would react when she saw me.

No, it was best to lay low for a couple of days until I could pass muster.

“She won’t care,” Jack said. “But make sure Gran knows we’re both staying here before you leave.”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

I put away my phone and moved to stand up. “I’m ready,” I said to Brett, and then looked at Jamie. “Thanks so much for the aspirin and water.”

“Of course. Feel better, and tell Cassie to call me, okay?” she said before giving me a cautious hug.

“I will. See you later, Matt. Sorry about the couch.” I glanced at it and grimaced at the small dots of blood I’d left behind.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving me off. “Drive safe.”

After some disagreement because he was worried about my driving, Brett finally agreed to follow me as I slowly drove Gran’s car home. It was late and I was tired and felt like shit, but I couldn’t leave her and Gramps without a car for the weekend. Thank goodness she had an extra set of keys, so I just left the car in the driveway and didn’t have to go inside and risk her seeing me like this.

Afterward Brett dropped me off in front of Cassie’s apartment, and I told him it would be better if he didn’t help me inside. I had no idea what seeing him would do to Jack, and didn’t want to risk some sort of showdown just as my head had started to ease up its incessant throbbing. I thanked him for the ride, assured him I could get upstairs on my own, and sent him on his way.

Only once I was standing outside Cassie’s apartment in the dark did I realize that I hadn’t called Gran. It was late enough that I knew she’d already be in bed, but I had to get this over with. Otherwise she’d send out an APB tomorrow morning when she realized that neither of us were in our beds.

The phone rang, still too loud for my liking, and Gran answered, her voice thin and sleepy.

“Hi, Gran. I’m sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, dear.” There was a rustle in the background, and her voice sharpened. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

I sucked in a quick breath, preparing myself for the lie I was about to tell, and hating it. I never lied to Gran. But if I told her the truth, she’d worry herself sick and make me come home so she could take care of me herself.

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted you to know that Jack and I are going to stay at Cassie’s this weekend, if that’s okay with you. Melissa went home, and Cassie’s all alone and doesn’t like staying by herself. It makes her nervous, I guess.”

I willed myself to shut up and stop my babbling. Too many details, and Gran would know I was lying. I held my breath, praying I hadn’t overdone it.

“I guess that’s okay,” she said slowly, “since you’ll both be there. But no funny business. Tell Jack that goes for him, as well. I guess I’ll see you boys on Sunday then?”

“Yep. Thanks, Gran. Call if you need anything.”

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too. And sorry for waking you up.”

She huffed into the phone. “It’s okay. I’d rather you wake me up than me wake up and be worried because you aren’t here.”

“That’s what I figured. Okay, good night, Gran.”

“Good night, honey.”

I blew out a relieved breath after ending the call. I’d always been a horrible liar, and was surprised and thankful that I’d gotten away with it this once. There was no way Gran would have let me stay here with Cassie if she knew what had really happened tonight. Not that I could keep it from her forever; I just wasn’t ready to go home yet. I felt like I needed to be with someone who’d experienced what I did.

I knocked on the door softly before opening it a few inches to peek inside.

“Kitten, Dean’s here,” Jack called out to her from the living room. Then he walked over to me and gave me a bear hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, little brother.”

“Me too. How’s she?” I pointed toward the bedroom just as Cassie emerged from it, her face bruised and swollen.

“Dean, are you okay?” She ran straight to me and squeezed me tightly, locking her arms around me for a moment before releasing me.

“I’m fine. How are you? Are you okay?” I’d be okay, I was pretty sure, so now I was more concerned with her injuries.

She nodded. “You have no idea how scary it was to see you hurt like that.” She shuddered, and I thought about how many times I’d heard that exact sentiment already tonight.

“And you have no idea how horrible it was to see some guy hitting you,” I said, unable to hide the anger that welled inside me as I replayed the events in my head.

“Can we not talk about that right now?” Jack’s voice was tight, his expression murderous.

“I’m just happy you’re okay,” Cassie said as she reached out to touch strands of my hair. “Does your head hurt?”

“Like a bitch,” I muttered.

“Before I forget, Melis said you could stay in her room.”

“Yeah? Well, I was going to stay in there even if she said I couldn’t,” I said as a manic laugh escaped. “It’s okay if I take a shower, right?”

I felt gross, and needed to get the glass and dried blood out of my hair. Plus, I ached all over, and the thought of twenty minutes under the hot spray sounded like heaven right now.

“Of course.” Cassie patted me on the shoulder and pushed me in the right direction. “There’s a shower in her room. Extra towels are under the sink.”

Jack reached for her hand and pulled her toward the living room couch. “We’ll be out here when you’re done,” he said before sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

I didn’t need any more images of the two of them burned into my brain, so I walked into Melissa’s room and shut the door behind me. Scanning it quickly, I took it all in—the collage of pictures on the walls, the framed and signed movie posters, perfume bottles on her dresser, necklaces scattered over every free inch of space.

And her bed. Jesus, I’d never seen so many pillows in my life. Who needed that many, and how did my tiny pixie not get swallowed alive by all of them?

The room smelled like her, like lemons and sunshine.
Hell, I might move right in and never leave.

Thankful that girls were a lot cleaner than guys, I turned on the shower and adjusted the nozzle. When it was the perfect lukewarm temperature, I stripped off my clothes and cautiously stepped inside.

The water hit my head, reminding me just how injured I was, and I stifled a shout and winced before moving out of its path. Frustrated, I stood there for a second, not entirely sure how to do this on my own. I couldn’t see where the blood or glass was, and every time I tried to run my fingers through my hair to check, I wanted to scream out in pain.

Finally, I decided to turn the water down so the pressure wasn’t so strong. When it was barely flowing from the showerhead, I backed into it and allowed it to drip on top of my head. It still hurt, and I found myself wishing that Melissa were here so she could help me.

Once I felt certain there was no glass in my hair, I scanned the edges of her tub and reached for a bottle of pink shampoo. It was either that or something purple, so my options were limited. After squeezing a small amount into my hand, I sniffed at it.
Watermelon
. No wonder she always smelled like fruity scents and summer.

Rubbing the soap into a lather on my head was almost torturous. The soap stung my open wound, and the blood had caked on so thick, I wasn’t sure it would ever rinse out. I stared down at my feet, almost in a daze as I watched the water swirl around them in a mixture of pink bubbles and red.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood there; I just kept my head in the streaming water until it started flowing clear around my feet. All I knew was that I was shriveled up like a prune, and it felt like I’d spent an hour under the spray. When I determined that I’d done the best I could with my head, I turned off the water and stepped out, dripping as I searched for a towel under the sink.

After wrapping a blue-and-white striped beach towel around my waist, I walked back into the living room where Jack and Cassie still sat wrapped up in each other. Jack was running a finger down Cassie’s cheek and looking at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

I cleared my throat. “Remind me that it’s going to fucking hurt next time I try to wash my hair.”

“I’m really tired,” Cassie said. “I’m gonna go to bed, okay?” She pushed off Jack’s lap and walked toward me. “Love you both.” She gave me another hug before whispering, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“So much for our weekend alone, huh?” Jack said with a frown.

I wanted to smack my brother for making me feel unwanted, but then Cassie looked at me, and our eyes locked for a moment.

“It’s okay. This is better, anyway,” she said, and I stuck my tongue out at Jack as she walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

I yawned. “I’m think I’m gonna get some sleep too, bro. Sorry if I ruined your romantic weekend.”

Jack stood up and wrapped me in a manly hug. “You didn’t ruin anything. I’m glad you’re here. And I’m really glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. Or her.” He nodded toward the bedroom door.

“I know. Same here.”

“Let me look at your head.” He tried to see the top of my head, but we were basically the same height these days, much to Jack’s annoyance.

“Bend down a little,” he said, and I did as he asked. His fingers tugged at my hair, parting the strands so he could see my scalp, and I winced before pulling away.

“That hurts. What are you doing?”

“Sorry. There’s still some glass in there. I’ll stop. Let me see the cut.” He searched through my hair again, trying to be gentle, but he was a guy with big hands and lacked the ability, even though he tried. “Found it.”

“How’s it look?”

“It’s pretty swollen and a little mangled, but the cut itself looks good. It’s not bleeding at all anymore.” He stood up straight. “Hey, before I forget, did you talk to Gran?”

“I lied to her,” I admitted, feeling guilty and trying to ease my conscience.

He laughed. “You,” he pointed a finger at me, “lied to Gran? Sweet little old Gran?”

“Shut up, man. I feel bad enough, but I had to.”

“What’d you tell her?”

I blew out a breath. “I just said that Cassie was all alone for the weekend and it made her uncomfortable. So I said that she wanted us to stay with her.”

A loud hoot of laughter came from Jack. “And she believed that? Shit, she would have never believed that coming from me.” He stood there, shaking his head and grinning at me.

“That’s because coming from you, it would have been a lie.”

“But it was a lie! So,” he said, jabbing me in the chest with his damn hard finger, “you lied to Gran. How does it feel? Are you going to cry yourself to sleep tonight?”

I turned to walk away but stopped at the door to Melissa’s bedroom. “You’re an ass. It’s not like I could tell her the truth. She would have made the three of us stay there all weekend and put us on lockdown until school started Monday morning.”

Jack nodded, sobering. “No, you’re right. You’d better hope she doesn’t find out what happened, or she’s going to flip.”

“It’s okay. If she hears anything,” I said with a smirk, “I’ll just blame you. She’ll believe this was all your idea.”

“I’m impressed. Now go to bed. Love you.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze.

I smiled. “Love you too.”

“Cass already put some Advil on the nightstand in the room for you. There’s a couple water bottles in there too.”

“Tell her thanks for me.”

I had just lay down in Melissa’s bed as my phone beeped.

Melissa
: I’m sick over everything that happened. I just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you, and I wish I was there to take care of you.

Damn
. I wish she was here to take care of me too.

• • •

My eyes opened as soon as I realized I wasn’t in my firm bed at home. Instead I was lying on something that felt like a cloud, surrounded by fluffy pillows that hugged my head and body. I blinked a few times before the room came into focus, and the memory of last night came crashing back to me.

I was in Melissa’s room. Melissa wasn’t here. And some guy broke a forty over my head and punched Cassie in the face.

When I sat up too quickly, my head spun and I felt woozy, so I lay back down, allowing Melissa’s pillows to cradle me in a fluffy hug.

My head ached; my brain beat like a bongo drum inside it each time my heart beat. When I could no longer stand it, I grabbed the bottle of pain reliever and poured a few into my palm before tossing them into my mouth, and washed them down with some of the water Cassie had left on the nightstand.
Please, let them work quickly.

Jack and Cassie’s voices filtered through my closed door, and I was thankful they were already awake.

I moved slowly, not wanting to encourage the pain in my head as I padded toward the bathroom. Looking around at the floor, I realized that I didn’t have anything to wear other than what I’d showed up in last night, so I reached for my shorts but left my bloody T-shirt in a heap on the floor.

When I stepped out into the living area, the scent of bacon assaulted my senses, triggering some major drool. I followed my nose into the kitchen.

“Mmm, bacon.”

Jack turned from the stove and raised his eyebrows at me. “Dude. Shirt?”

“It’s all bloody. I don’t have anything else to wear.”

Cassie hopped up from the bar stool at the snack bar. “Jack has some shirts here. I’ll go get you one.”

The bruises on her face had deepened in color, and I found it hard to look at her without getting upset.

“I can’t believe you’re cooking,” I said to Jack.