Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
He kissed her temple. “I know it’s hard for you to sit back and watch, but you did your bit, baby. You scored two of the four goals. They’ll take care of the rest.”
She had complete confidence in her team. But it still felt wrong to be watching when she could be helping. It was so stomach-twistingly nerve-racking that she almost couldn’t watch at all. She would have bitten her nails if she’d had any.
Her stomach plummeted when one of the Weasels scored—she could sense that it gave the heifers a sort of spiritual lift; gave them hope that they could close the gap and, at the very least, end the game with 4-to-4. And it filled Casey with dread that their hope would pay off.
The Weasels created several opportunities to score, but the Hounds were there every time; intercepting and redirecting the ball. Just as they reached the last minute of the game, two minutes of extra time were added. Great. To be fair to the Weasels, they didn’t resign themselves to a loss. They kept on playing, and they didn’t let up the pressure.
Casey bit hard into her lip as a Weasel intercepted a kick from a Hound, regained possession of the ball, and volleyed it straight at the goal. The Hound’s goalkeeper tried catching it. The ball skimmed over her fingertips … and hit the goal post. Relief poured through Casey as it bounced away from the net. The keeper scooped it up and booted it downfield.
Then the whistle blew.
Casey and Eli shot to their feet, cheering. Donahue and the rest of the staff just about lost their minds, as did the Hounds on the field.
Eli hugged her tight. “Congratulations, baby, you’re through to the final. How does it feel?”
“It feels fucking amazing.” She exchanged hugs and ass-pats with each of her teammates as they filed off the field, beaming in pure delight.
“I told you we’d win this season, Frost,” said Kristin.
Casey smiled. “We haven’t won yet. The bitches of Eastwick won’t make it easy.”
Emma looked at her ankle. “Are you doing okay?”
“Fine,” said Casey, stretching her foot. “The pain’s gone.” She turned to Eli, ready to tell him she needed to go shower. “Why are you frowning at your cell?”
He looked up, his expression unreadable. “Nick just texted me.”
“And?”
Eli cupped her hip. “We have your brother’s location.”
Her mink stiffened. Casey almost jerked in surprise. “Where is he?”
Cradling a cup of tepid, untouched coffee in her hands, Casey could only sit and stare at her brother. He’d lost a lot of weight since she’d last seen him. His dark stubble didn’t help hide his sallow, gaunt face, just as his plain clothes didn’t hide how stick-thin he was. The guy didn’t seem to have even an ounce of muscle on him.
Her mink was saddened by what she saw. Miles had always had a spark. A spark that lit his eyes, energy, and lifeforce. That spark had all but gone.
Casey had honestly never seen a person look so dejected and hopeless. And as she drank in the sight of him, she felt a deep shame. She’d never thought to look for her brother in a place like this, and how shitty of her was that?
Eli squeezed her thigh in comfort. He hadn’t spoken much; seemed content to just observe as she and Miles made what could only be described as awkward small-talk. She just didn’t really know what to say to him, and he seemed to be having that same issue.
She swallowed. “I don’t understand why you didn’t call me.”
Miles looked at the plain white walls of the reception area. “This isn’t the first time I’ve checked into rehab, Case. I always mean to stay. Always. But the process always kicks my ass after a couple of months.” He sniffed. “I never saw the sense in contacting anyone unless I thought I could stick it out.”
“You also didn’t want to see me.”
He grimaced at the soft accusation. “It’s not that. You tell your teammates practically everything. If you knew where I was, Sherryl would know where I was, and she’s the last person I—”
“Sherryl’s not part of my team, Miles. She left the pack over a year ago. Until recently, I hadn’t seen her since then.”
He gaped, blinking hard. “What happened recently?”
“I found Eli. She didn’t take it too well.”
Miles grunted. “She’d rather wallow over the loss of her true mate than heal and be happy. She’s her own worst enemy. I told her that a thousand times.”
“I’d have to agree with you.” But as she suspected that Sherryl wasn’t the safest topic to discuss with him, Casey changed the subject. “How’s your mink doing?” she asked, placing her cup on the table.
“He hates this place. He wants out.”
Which undoubtedly made it even harder for Miles to stay committed to the rehabilitation process. She fisted her hands, hating that there was literally nothing she could do to help her brother. Nothing. He had to help himself. All she could do was support him. “Have you seen or heard from Mom or Emily?”