Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Cat surveyed their ruined bedroom with a miserable look. “Jesus, Laila.”
Jean let a slow gaze drift over the walls. A few frames still hung, but the pictures inside were gone, and the corkboard where they’d exclusively hung pictures of the two of them on dates was gone entirely. He left them to take it in and moved to the study. The desks had survived only in that they were recognizable as desks. Laila’s was in the best shape, but Cat’s and Jean’s had each lost at least one leg. His blackened laptop was cool to the touch. Jean opened it already knowing what he would see, then set it aside with a quiet sigh.
The desk drawers were full of ash and scattered bits of paper. Kevin’s gifts, first ruined beyond recognition by the Ravens themselves, were now truly gone. His gaze went unbidden to where Kevin’s newest postcard should be hanging on the wall. Only the thumbtack remained. There was nothing left of Renee’s picture, and only ash where his sand dollar and wristband ought to be. For a moment his anger wanted to eat him alive, but the sudden trill of his phone jarred him from his thoughts.
Jean stared down at the caller ID for three rings before finally answering. “Yes, Coach.”
There was a pause, as if Wymack hadn’t expected him to answer. “I just saw the news. Are you all right?”
“I am not one of your Foxes,” Jean reminded him as he started down the hall. “You do not need to feign concern.”
“You sound all right,” was the dry response.
Jean said nothing until he reached his bedroom. The destruction awaiting him gave him pause, and he gazed at his ruined closet as he said, “We weren’t home. We had a game against Utah last night.” He meant to leave it at that, except Wymack’s welfare check gnawed at him. Laila’s car was parked in the driveway out front, as were the motorcycles. “Did they know we were gone? Did they even care?”
“I don’t know,” Wymack said, but his grim tone wasn’t comforting.
Had the arsonists slowed to check, or was sending a message more important? What if it’d been a home game, and they’d all been asleep when it happened? Laila and Cat’s bedroom wasn’t far off from the living room where the fire started. This spring Jean had asked Wymack how much it would hurt to be burned alive; now he imagined the fire catching up to his friends and it almost took him to his knees. He knotted his free hand in his shirt, fighting to calm his roiling stomach, and turned away from the closet.
“How can I protect them?” he asked. “The Ravens won’t listen to me. They never have. They will only listen to their own.”
“We will think of something.”
Jean turned his back on the charred beds and saw light bobbing in the hallway. A few moments later his friends stepped into the doorway to survey the room, so Jean said, “I have to go, Coach.” He waited for an easy affirmative before hanging up, and Cat tipped her flashlight past Jeremy to light up his chest. Jean put his phone away as he moved to meet his friends and said, “We are on the news. Coach Wymack saw it.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were keeping in touch with him,” Cat said.
“I am not,” Jean said. It was and wasn’t true, but the details didn’t matter.
Laila looked past Jean at the ruined room. “Gary’s willing to take us home with him so we can get some sleep, but I don’t want to go so far from campus. I’m thinking we’ll stay at the Radisson where we put Kevin and Andrew last month. He can drop us off, and it’s an easy trip back here when the sun’s up. Thoughts?” She looked from face to face as they nodded. “Then let’s get out of here for now. I can’t keep breathing this in.”
Gary accepted their decision without protest. He checked in with his security team one last time while the Trojans climbed into his car, and he had them over to the hotel just a few minutes later. Check-in was easy enough, and they ended up a floor apart: a king bed for Cat and Laila, and two double beds for Jean and Jeremy. Cat and Laila took the elevator to the fourth floor while Jean and Jeremy walked to the third, and Jeremy let Jean precede him into the room.
“She’s probably setting alarms for seven or eight,” Jeremy said, with a glance toward the clock on the shared nightstand.
He tapped away at his phone, presumably double checking, and Jean left him to it in favor of getting out of his shoes. They had nothing to change into but the clothes they’d worn on the ride north, as they hadn’t planned on needing something to sleep in. Jean was tempted to simply sleep in what he was wearing, but denim made for uncomfortable rest. He stripped down to his underwear and peeled back his blanket.