Long Shot (Hoops 1)

“Hey.” He sounds tired. “I’m on my way.”

“You’re on the plane?” I ask, my voice and my heart lifting.

“Even better. Flight just landed, and I’m in the car. According to navigation, I should be there in like two hours.”

“Thank you, August.” Some of the tightness in my chest loosens knowing he’s coming.

“Babe, don’t thank me. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

“Wait.” I sit up, frowning, mentally collating dates and information. “Don’t you have a game in San Diego tomorrow night? What time is your flight back out?”

“I’m not flying back tomorrow.” He blows out a weary breath. “I told Deck I needed to take a day, and he agreed. I’m skipping the game.”

“To be … to be here with me?”

“I told you if you were ever mine, I’d play you at the five.” The sound of a smile breaks through his voice. “You’re the center, Iris.”

I don’t answer but absorb his promise to me. His devotion to me.

“And we need to talk,” he continues before hesitating. “Maybe you need to talk to someone soon? A counselor or something.”

“I have a counselor,” I answer softly.

“You do? When do you see a counselor? How did I not know that?”

“I plugged in with a counseling service for survivors at a local women’s shelter in San Diego.” I clear my throat. “I have a lot of baggage to sort through.”

“Can I come?” he asks. “Like talk to them and ask how I should handle things? Or how I can support you? I just … I wanna kill him, Iris.”

“I knew you would and that you’d have to see him all the time for games, events, whatever. That’s why I—”

“Mommy!” Sarai yells from the other room.

“Let me go see what she wants.”

“Tell her … Gus loves her,” he says, begrudging the nickname.

“She’ll grow out of it.” I grin, because he legitimately hates it. “Maybe.”

“Jared hasn’t.”

“I know, but Jared—”

“Mommy!” Sarai calls again.

“Go. You’re being summoned,” he says. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

Sarai is sitting up in bed when I enter the room we used to share. Her eyes are wide, her lashes wet, rounded arms with their dimpled elbows stretched up to me.

I sit down on the bed and pull her close, brushing down her hair, which now reaches the middle of her back. She’s growing up so fast. I can barely remember the time when I resented having her, didn’t want her. Now she’s everything to me, and I want time to slow so I have as much of it with her as possible.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“I … I saw a monster,” she whispers, her voice trembling. She’s shaking in my arms.

I draw back and study her face. Real fear darkens the blue of her eyes.

“Bad dream?” I kiss her forehead and rub her back. “Wanna tell me about it? What did the monster look like?”