Chapter 8

: Brandon

I stare at my phone , blinking in disbelief.

Jess: OMG, B, it’s amazing out here. I’ve never been this happy in all my life. I’ve found my home

Most people would be happy to receive this message from their sister. Most people would be happy for their sister. I am not most people, mostly because of my sister.

I don’t waste time with pleasantries or beating around the bush.

Me: Are you high?

Jess: High on life

That is not the flippant answer I want to hear. Of course, no answer she gives me will be good enough. That’s the problem with having an addict in your life. There’s no trust, and I can’t think of one scenario in which there will be again.

Me: Uh-huh

Jess: No, really. Wyoming is the most beautiful place in the world. You have to come see me, and then you’ll understand

Me: Let me guess, you need money

Money, jail, and rehab are the only reasons Jess ever reaches out to me.

Jess: B, no. I’m doing really well. You have to see it for yourself. I’ve had a breakthrough

Me: What’s his name?

Jess: Her name

Me: Ok, what’s her name?

Jess: Her name is Thunder

Jesus, what kind of mess is she getting herself into now? Is Jess’s new girlfriend a stripper or a hooker? No way Jess can keep clean in that lifestyle.

Me: What kind of name is that?

A picture pops up on my screen, showing Jess, her face tanned and freckled, with strands of her braided hair whipping across her face. Her arms are around the neck of a massive black horse.

Me: That’s Thunder?

Jess: Isn’t she gorgeous? And she loves me too. You have to meet her

Something small twitches in my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was the beginning of hope. Hope that this time, it takes for Jess. Hope that she really is better. Hope that she will live.

I can’t let myself hope though. I’ve hoped too much in the past.

The only thing hope leads to is disappointment. It’s one reason why I’m so frank with people. No need to blow smoke up their ass and give them hope for something that’s not going to happen.

Yet here I am, hoping that the smiling woman in the picture is real. I click back on it. She’s gained a little weight, which is a good thing. She has color, though that’s probably from days spent out in the sun. Her eyes do look clear though. They’re bright. They don’t have that hollowed vacant look that plagued her for years.

But pictures can be altered. They can be fake. They can be staged. I can’t believe it though. Not yet. At least not until I see it with my own eyes. Without another thought, I quickly search for a flight to Jackson, Wyoming. I book a rental car to drive me to her ranch, which appears to be about an hour away.

I won’t be able to rest until I do this.

I can fly back in a day or two, after I make sure she’s okay. I send a quick text to Coach Janssen saying I have to go out of town for family reasons. I don’t think I’ve ever taken personal time before, so there shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll get in a run and a workout while I’m out there, so I really won’t be missing anything. Two days tops and I’ll be back at practice with the peace of mind knowing Jess is okay.

I don’t quite pay attention to the time of the flight when I book it until after all is said and done. I’m on a 7 a.m. plane to Jackson Hole, and I’ll take the red-eye back on Wednesday. There isn’t a flight directly to Jackson Hole, so I’ve got a layover somewhere. Whatever. I’ll still get there in the end.

Those times suck. I am not a morning person, so it’s predictably hard for me to get up in time to make it to the airport and catch my flight. I barely have time to shower. My hair hangs in waves, dripping water down my T-shirt. It’ll dry by the time I land.

There’s no easy way to get to Logan from where I am, other than driving north to Boston and then hanging a right. Luck is on my side because it’s practically night still, with the sun just popping up over the horizon, bright red in the haze of the July sky. I make the trek in under 30 minutes, which would never happen later in the day.

Even with that luck on my side, it takes me forever to get through security. With my hair down and casual shorts and flip-flops on, no one recognizes me until I reach security and they check my name.

Then, it’s a thing, and the guard wants pictures. I let her take one, ignoring her hand which is definitely lower than my waist before practically sprinting through the terminal. If I wasn’t running late, I’d probably take a second look. No time for that now.

I picked the wrong day to wear flip-flops.

I reach down and pull them off. Much better.

I break into a run as I hear my flight paged. For most people, this would be a struggle, but it’s a warm-up for me. I make it to the gate as they announce, “Final call for Passenger Nix on Flight 647. This is the final call.” I slow to a walk as I flash the boarding pass on my phone. I’m not even winded.

Now that I know I made it, I stroll down the gangway to the plane, ducking as I enter. My seat is in first class so I don’t have to walk far. I pop my bag in the overhead and sit down. A minute later my earbuds are in and one of my favorite playlists is streaming through my ears. I close my eyes and don’t plan on opening them until I have to change planes. That should give me a good four more hours of sleep.

As I start to doze off, I think about the whirlwind the last twelve hours have been since Jess texted me. If I can just see for myself that she’s okay, maybe I’ll finally be able to relax. Maybe I can settle down and stop being so hot-headed. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist—or a psychologist like Watson Ross—to figure out that a lot of my stress is because of my family.

Since I can’t take it out on them, I take it out on my opponents on the field. It’s a coping mechanism that’s worked for me for as long as I can remember. But if I can get this family shit settled, maybe I’ll finally be less angry. Then, if I’m less angry, I’ll draw less penalties. I won’t be on probation anymore, and the Buzzards will have to start recognizing me for my contributions to the team.

When my contract is up, I can negotiate for a larger salary. My life is finally coming together. Just as long as this trip goes exactly how I need it to.