Home > The Screw Ball (Indianapolis Lightning #3)(9)

The Screw Ball (Indianapolis Lightning #3)(9)
Author: Samantha Lind

 

 

I walk out of the locker room and into the hallway that will lead me to a multitude of places within the facility or out to the players’ parking lot.

After this morning’s weight session, followed by practice, I’m ready for a hot meal and a decent night’s sleep. We take off in the morning for a week-long road trip that includes four games, so I also need to get packed tonight, as we’re wheels up at eight in the morning.

“Mr. Black,” I hear my name being called from down the hall. I turn, seeing one of Carmen’s assistants headed my way, so I stop and wait for her to catch up to me.

“What can I do for you, Carly, is it?” I ask, not missing the eye roll she gives me.

“Yes, it is Carly,” she says, kind of snotty. Who pissed in this girl’s Cheerios this morning? “We had a request come in from a children’s hospital in Tampa with a request from a patient who is a fan of yours. They were wondering if you’d be willing to come by when the team is in town and see the child. He’s in the middle of a pretty rough chemotherapy regimen and they think it might boost his spirits.”

“Yeah, can you get it all set up? I should be able to go over on Wednesday morning for a little while as long as you get it cleared with Coach,” I tell her. I’m almost always willing to give my time, especially in a situation like this.

“Thank you,” she says, and I think I shocked her at how easily I agreed to the request. Little does she know; I’d never turn a request like this away. The kids don’t deserve to be sick and in the hospital, so if an hour of my time will help them, then why not? “I’ll get everything approved and set up, including a car to take you to and from the hospital, either from the stadium or the hotel, wherever you’ll be at that time,” she says, which is a good thing since the team is always transported by motor coach once we make it to a city. I could always take an Uber, but having a prearranged car is probably for the best.

“Can you text me the details once you have them finalized?” I ask, knowing that the office has all of the players’ numbers.

“Of course. Would you like to take anything with you?” she asks. “The team can donate some items for you to give.”

“Yeah.” I take my baseball cap off, running my fingers through my hair, making me realize I need to fit in a cut today, as well, before I place it on my head backward. “Whatever you can put together will be good. I’ve got some errands to run, but can swing back by before I head home.”

“I can do that, or I can send it with the equipment manager,” she offers.

“That works for me,” I tell her, liking that option better.

“Will do, I’ll still text you once we have everything confirmed with the hospital.”

“Thanks,” I tell her before we part ways. It’s almost a shame that it wasn’t Carmen who relayed that information to me. I love getting every chance I can to razz her up, but alas, today isn’t one of those days.

I pull out of the parking lot, my windows all rolled down to let the fresh air in. The early September breeze is finally cooling it down just a little bit outside. We’ve only got a couple weeks left before the post season starts, which I’m looking forward to.

I’m cruising down the interstate when something catches my eye in the rearview mirror. Fuck, flashing lights on the cop car behind me.

I flip on my blinker, slowing to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Once stopped, I place my SUV into park, and reach for my registration and insurance card as the officer approaches my car.

“License and registration,” she requests from the open window.

I hand over the requested documents. “Can you tell me why you pulled me over, officer?” I ask.

“Clocked you going eighty-five in a sixty-five zone,” she states, matter-of-factly. “Where are you headed in such a hurry, Mr. Black?” she asks, using my last name after she’s had the chance to look over my information. I can’t see her eyes, as she’s got on polarized sunglasses, so I can’t tell if she knows who I am outside of reading my driver’s license.

“Just out doing some errands before I head home,” I tell her. “I didn’t realize I was even going that fast, was just kind of moving along with traffic,” I tell her honestly.

“It is easy to do that sometimes,” she says. “Since I don’t see anything else suspicious, I’m going to let you go with just a warning. Slow it down and pay attention to the posted signs, especially the speed ones,” she tells me, and I sigh in relief that I’m not getting a ticket. One less thing to put me on Carmen’s shit list.

 

 

I make my way out of the hotel and into the waiting town car. Carly came through with all the logistics for the hospital visit. I’ve got a bag filled with items to donate to the young boy who I’m going to see. I can only hope that my visit today and the items I have for him help, even if it’s temporary.

“The drive to the hospital isn’t long,” the driver tells me as we pull out of the hotel’s parking lot.

“No problem, I don’t think they’re expecting me for another twenty or so minutes,” I tell the older gentleman.

He must be used to driving people who don’t want to talk, not that I mind much. I watch as the buildings and palm trees zoom past as we make our way. As he predicted, the drive only took about ten minutes.

“I’ll drop you at the front doors, then wait for you in the back of the parking lot. On your way down, send me a text,” he states and hands over a business card, “to the number on this card and I’ll pull around and pick you back up at the door I dropped you off at.”

“Will do,” I tell him, tucking the card into my pocket. I grab the bag the team sent with me before exiting the car and heading inside.

“Hello, how can I help you?” the older woman at the information desk asks when I approach.

“Hello, I’m Lucas Black. I’m here to see Tyler Grub, he’s in the pediatric oncology ward. Can you point me in that direction, please?”

“Of course, Mr. Black,” she says, smiling up at me after she types something into the computer in front of her. “It looks like Mr. Grub is in room 867. The easiest way to that department is to take the elevator around the corner. Once on the eighth floor, you’ll take a left and head down the hall. Once you reach the nurses’ station, they’ll help you further, as it is a secure department, and you have to be let in.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, flashing her a smile. She might be the same age as my granny, but she still blushes slightly.

I follow her directions, finding the nurses’ station easily once I make it up to the eighth floor. After talking to the nurse manning the entrance, I’m quickly buzzed in.

“Tyler’s parents are expecting you; he still has no idea that you are coming today,” the nurse tells me as she escorts me to the correct room.

“Knock-knock,” she says, pushing the partially ajar door open so we can walk inside the room. “We have a special visitor here for you today, Tyler,” she tells him, moving a privacy curtain out of the way, allowing everyone the ability to see one another.

“Holy shit!” the kid calls out from his hospital bed. “You-you’re Lucas Black,” he stammers, and I can’t hold back the bark of laughter at his cursing.

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