I woke up in the hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses. My first thought was to panic, but I was too out of it for even that. Some Doc was saying some words I couldn’t make heads or tails of, and then I fell asleep.

When I woke up the second time, I still wasn’t alone. Only, this time, it was my teammates. Danny, a quarterback, and another running back, Steve. They were sitting on hard plastic seats, pushed against the wall. The moment they noticed I was awake, they got up, but didn’t move, just looking at me with caution on their faces.

Then everything came back to me from my disastrous night out—well, not everything, but enough—and the moment the room wasn’t spinning, or blurry, I was glaring at them.

“The fuck are you guys doing here?”

Their eyebrows shot up, and they looked at each other. They were so in sync; it looked practiced. Danny was the one to break the silence first.

“We came to see how you were doing.”

I scoffed, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure what my teammates were doing here in Romeoville. The one that really should have been there was Craig, the guy who got me into this mess. So why were they there?

“Did Craig come by here?” I asked.

Again, they looked at each other, and I didn’t even need them to answer.

“Craig?” they both questioned.

“Nevermind. Of course, he didn’t,” I muttered.

The only reason I’d been drinking at that party was because of Craig and the rest of the guys from high school. If I’d just gone off and waited for Alexis on my own…

Fuck, Alexis… Not only did I get into an accident, but I dragged her into it, and I might have single-handedly finally ended my fucking career.

I sighed and threw an arm over my eyes. “If you guys don’t mind, could you leave? I’d like to be alone, please.”

There was silence, but the sound of a door opening and closing behind them as they left never came. I pulled my arm away, frowning. They looked unsure of themselves, standing in place and shifting on their feet. Any other time, I might have found their squirming funny, but the last thing I could do was laugh.

“Uh,” Steve started, not sounding confident at all. “We just wanted to see how you were doing, Ryder. You don’t have to act like you don’t want to see us.”

“The others would have come, but we didn’t want to overwhelm you. They’ll probably be by later.”

I just barely held back from snapping at them.

Fuck! Of course, I didn’t want to see any of them! They should have realized I was in a bad mood, after everything, and left me alone. They weren’t even really my friends, just my teammates. None of us had ever really been that close.

Instead of saying all that, I just sighed. “How long was I out for?” I asked.

Danny shrugged. “A few days.” Then his voice brightened. “But, hey, you’re going to be fine now, according to your doctor. You had to go in for surgery, but we heard you’re eventually going to make a full recovery.”

“Yeah, man,” Steve added, smiling. “You have no idea how relieved everyone was when we got the news you’d live. We were all shocked to hear you were in an accident in the first place. I mean, we thought you were…well…” he trailed off and paused for a moment, letting it die. “Everyone’s just glad you’re okay.”

“We’ve been coming to stay with you in small groups,” Danny continued, moving closer to the bed. “We try not to leave you alone, though we all get kicked out at the end of visiting hours.” He turned to Steve, snapping his fingers. “We should let the other guys know he’s awake.”

Steve nodded quickly. “I can't believe I forgot. Just give me a bit, they don’t allow phones in here,” he said before rushing out the door, leaving me alone with Danny.

I watched as he went back to the chair he’d been sitting on, and dragged it closer to the edge of the bed. All I could do was stare. I had so much I needed to ask, but I was afraid of the answers I’d get. Danny might not know much, even Steve, but they might know enough to be devastating.

What is my current condition?

I was alive, and that was good. A part of me was even happy about it, but the greater part of me was still struggling with shock and anger. I remembered waking up to a doctor talking to me before, and I wished I remembered what he’d been saying.

They said I was in surgery, but for what? Just how badly was I injured? Would I still be able to play regardless?

Those were my most pressing questions.

Because I needed to fucking play. And not because I loved the game; it was a fucking career and the only way I earned my keep. Now of all times, to lose my ‘job’ and have to start from scratch would be fucking hell for me.

Only a few people knew—not the media, and not my family of course—but I had a lot of money I needed to pay out. I’d gotten into some trouble over the last few years, it wasn’t so much anything I was currently doing, but the things I’d gotten involved in back then. I’d somehow managed to keep it all mostly in the dark, but this…

Fucking hell.

If I was too injured to ever play again, what guarantee was there that I’d get anything else in time, if ever? My financial troubles were so bleak if that happened, I was pretty sure I’d be out of house and home. The fucking bank would kick me to the curb, leave me out on the streets, and grab everything I owned, my house, my car, everything.

This is all my fault, though, I thought to myself. Not just for acting stupid about Alexis, but for every shitty thing I’ve ever done. Especially the ones that got me sued. And how the team was able to keep that quiet…well, it was a miracle.

Even worse, asking for outside help was completely out of the question. If word of my situation got out, I might just get my ass kicked off of the team, non-disclosure agreements were signed, but one little leak and I was done. It was why I’d finally gotten sober. And now, one night of stupid drinking and driving could ruin everything. And even if I could still play eventually, no other team would take me on, not with my baggage. My image would be in ruins, and my career, still over.

“I told them the good news,” Steve announced, walking back into the room, all smiles. “Some of the guys will be coming by for the next visit, Coach, too.”

He dragged his chair right beside Danny’s.

“We don’t know a lot of details about what’s going on with you, but Doc is supposed to be looking into it.”

I arched an eyebrow, disbelieving. “Does he have hope that I can still play?”

Danny just shrugged. “I can't say. I guess. I mean, I don’t know much about that stuff, to begin with.”

“According to Coach, from what they have so far, with some therapy, you should be fine, eventually though,” Steve said. “So you don’t need to worry so much about this. Everything is getting handled. The coach will probably talk to you about all of this later.”

Danny grinned. “After he chews you out for doing something stupid, again. He always tells us to be careful.”

I winced. “Ah, that,” I muttered, unenthusiastic. “I can't fucking believe I did this. Coach is going to kill me.”

They both laughed, and I shot them glares. There was nothing funny about the situation. As much as they were treating this shit lightly, there was no way I could do that. They weren’t fully aware of what I’d done before this. Coach had every right to cut me loose, even if I could still play. I’d caused nothing but trouble.

I couldn’t self-assess myself. My body felt too heavy, though that was probably an effect from whatever pain meds they had me on. But unless someone told me otherwise, I was pretty sure what was going to happen. I wasn’t an idiot, for one thing, and life had taught me to expect the negatives before the positives if I didn’t want to get disappointed.

There was no way around this one, though.

“Not sure if you’ll be ready in time for the next season, though,” Danny continued. “It’s not that far off, now. You probably won’t be able to attend training.”

“Coach would be your best bet to ask about that shit. Though, he was still in the planning phase of our game-play. All that strategy crap, the research, and the other parts we don’t get to know about. I think he was going to bring it all up with the team next week so we could start on practice.”

Fuck!

Did these bastards hear themselves? Sure, it was my fault, but how did they not realize they were practically rubbing it in my face that my career was probably over?

Maybe, if I hadn't been so reckless, things wouldn’t have gone to shit this quickly. And now, no football, which meant that all that money I’d hoped to earn just went down the drain. I could practically see what my life would be like in a few months, and it was a fucking nightmare just waiting to come true.

Danny and Steve were losing themselves, talking about the upcoming season, forgetting to include me because I wasn’t talking too much, either way.

But I’d had enough, and I was through being civil.

“Guys,” I said, keeping my voice level, but just loud enough to catch their attention, and they stopped, turning to me. “I appreciate you both being here,” I said flatly. “But I would seriously like it if you would leave now, I’m tired.”

They shared a look between them, and I growled.

“Okay, fucking stop that shit. I don’t know what you’re trying to hide with the looks, but it’s not fucking working.”

Danny winced. “Look, Ryder, uh—”

“Just, no!” My voice was on the edge of a shout, and I could feel my throat begin to itch. I knew, instinctively, that if I shouted again, I’d probably break into a coughing fit, and I moderated my tone. “Get the fuck out, guys. And tell everyone else not to bother coming by. I can recover without them here, and I don’t want to see anyone, but Coach.”

I turned my face away from their shocked expressions, wondering why what I said was such a surprise. However, I was too busy trying not to give into despair, imagining the scandal if along with the events of my latest screw-up, my lawsuit got dragged into the light by some nosy-assed reporter. I had no idea how to deal with the whole thing if it did.

Dammit. Maybe I was just better off leaving Alexis the fuck alone.