"No, Derrick. It's just some family stuff I have to take care of."
"Can I help?"
"No."
"Well, can you at least tell me what's going on? I care about your family, too." He hoped he wasn't overstepping his bounds, but he'd known too many Archers to think that they'd come out and ask for help when they needed it. The only way to get information from that clan was to come out and demand it.
Andy paused for a long moment and his heart clenched. He'd gone too far.
When she spoke again, though, his heart had a whole new reason to twist.
"There was a…" she paused again, watching him from the corner of her eye. "There was a complication. Matt is in San Diego General."
Without another word, he hung a U-turn in the middle of the road and sped off.
Chapter 9
They were close by the hospital, which was a good thing and a very, very bad one.
Good because it would mean they were that much closer to getting the look of painful worry off of Andy's face.
Bad because he had little to no time to get his shit together.
This had been horrible enough the first time, with all the press flocking the building and every player in the universe posting comments and wishes of Matt's speedy recovery. Every day, Logan sat in the parking lot, staring a
t the building as reporters came and went. And sometimes he'd watch Andy, clad in sweats and looking a wreck, stalking through the rotating glass doors first thing in the morning and trudging out long after visiting hours had ended.
Now was infinitely worse than that.
Not only did he have to watch Andy, up close and personal, but now he'd have to follow her. To go into the hospital and see his friend laying there, all hooked to wires and tubes, with the full knowledge that it had been Logan who put him there.
He glanced at Andy as he pulled into the parking lot, but his attention was caught by the flash of a camera as a bulb popped in his window.
"They never miss a beat," Andy grumbled.
"Guess not." He cleared his throat.
She was so miserable, too wrought with her brother's injury. She didn't have to say a word for him to feel it. Her sadness hung in the air like damp summer rain. He knew it was coming, even if he hadn't seen it yet.
This late at night, most of the visitor's slots were empty, and he found a space close enough to the door that she wouldn't have to walk far in her heels. He popped the car into park, then jumped from his side. And froze.
The reporter waiting for them hadn't been an anomaly. An entire hoard of onlookers were crowding the place, buzzing around like vultures on road kill. How bad could this complication be that the entire San Diego news community was crowded around the place?
"He was at practice, I guess." He hadn't noticed, but Andy had circled the car and was standing beside him, answering his unspoken question.
"Coach Reed thought he could probably be in shape for the season, so they were practicing in secret on the minor fields. There was a bad pitch and..." She trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest and staring into the distance at something he couldn't see.
"Why wouldn't he have told me that?"
It was a stupid idea, to agitate his injury after all of the physical therapy he'd been through. If Logan had only known, he might have been able to talk his friend out of it. To make him see reason.
"You know Matt. It was no big deal. He didn't want to worry you." She slumped against the car and blew out a deep breath. "How is it you can want to take care of someone and still want to kill them at the same time?"
He didn't answer her, but let the silence hang over them. He didn't have an answer for her, or for anything. He didn't know what he was going to do or how he was going to get past all of these people. He was supposed to be here for Andy, and for Matt too, but it was all too much.
In his mind, all he could hear was the beeping of the hospital machines or the whirring of the mechanical beds...
Until Andy's soft sniffle beside him.