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It’s Gail or no one.
Mickey
I stride out of the showers, muscles tight, adrenaline still pumping through my veins from the game. My white hair’s a damp tangle, and I can feel the droplets trailing down my spine like searching fingertips. The locker room is filled with the scent of victory, sweat, and determination. Everyone is on a high, and I’m no different. The superior win of tonight is sweet as hell.
“Mick, are you coming out to celebrate?” one of my teammates asks.
I force a smile as I dress in my dark suit, taking my time with the tie. “Not tonight,” I answer, trying not to let deflation bleed into my tone. There’s no celebration without Gail.
“Oh, come on!”
Yeah, can’t blame them for complaining, and really, I’m an asshole for saying no. “Okay,” I relent. “One beer.”
The locker room’s stark fluorescents fade as we hit the brightly lit corridor where the partners wait for us. I deliberately look away as Lucia comes bouncing up to Sawyer, and I do my best to tune out their PDA which quickly turns into a grind fest.
“For fuck’s sake,” Soren grunts from next to me.
While Sawyer looks a bit sheepish, Lucia just flashes us an arrogant smile. “Congrats,” she singsongs. I don’t know how she does it, but with that one word, she manages to both convey that she’s happy for us and that she pities us for being fools.
Ignoring her I follow Soren and my other teammates out of the backdoor, away from the paparazzi as we get into the waiting cars that are ready to take us downtown. I don’t make a habit of going out when we’re in New Jersey, but since we just won our last game of the regular season, it doesn’t feel right to mope in a hotel room until we leave tomorrow morning.
The club we enter is already busy; the music is blaring, bodies writhing on the dancefloor. We make our way to the VIP section where a few Jaguars are already prowling around. Most of them are nice enough, and my only problem is with Jared who luckily isn’t… ahh, never mind. There he is, holding court in the middle with Simone at his side.
I come to a stop so I can look at them, taking my time studying them. It’s weird seeing them look so… human when I’ve spent so many years thinking about them as monsters, villains in the story of my life.
Although I’m not sure I can ever forgive them, I realize I no longer care about them. They’re just people from my past—shitty people, for sure. But still just that. With the realization, it feels like a weight has been lifted, making it possible for me to move on.
“Let’s grab a drink,” Sawyer suggests.
I follow him to the bar, ordering a beer and a line of blue shots that I have no idea what the contents are, but they taste fine as I down them in quick succession.
“Someone’s thirsty,” Lucia observes dryly, and I flip her off, ignoring Sawyer’s growl.
“Don’t!”
Rolling my eyes, I order more shots, offering half to Soren who empties the small glasses faster than I can get through mine. Making a face, I push more over to him and instead focus on my beer.
“What’s your problem?”
At first I think Soren’s talking to me, which is all sorts of confusing. “What?”
When he doesn’t answer me immediately, I notice he’s staring daggers at Lucia, who’s flipping him off. “You know what my problem with you is,” she snarks.
Soren holds up his hand, anger vibrating off of him. “Hey! Let’s get one thing fucking straight here. I’m tolerating you because you’re married to one of my best friends. But don’t think—”
“And I’ve tolerated you because my best friend asked me to be nice,” she volleys. “But what you did to her… what you put her through… goddamnit Soren!”
Sawyer looks like he wants to intervene, but I shake my head when he looks my way. I get that he wants to protect his wife. Right now, though, she’s the one stirring shit and if he meddles in that, there’s no telling what the outcome will be.
“Lucia,” I say, keeping my tone calmer than I feel. “With all due respect, shut the fuck up.”
“What?” she gasps. “I’m not saying anything that isn’t true, Mickey. You both treated her like shit, and now she’s—”
Soren takes a step closer, which immediately prompts Sawyer to do the same. “Let’s get something straight here,” Soren growls. “We haven’t done anything to Gail that’s worse than what Sawyer did to you. In fact, she’s the one who lied to us first.”
“Sure, bring me into it,” Sawyer mutters, not looking any happier than I feel right now.
“Doesn’t matter who did what,” I say, staring straight at Lucia, willing her to see how much all of this is fucking tearing me apart.
