Play Along(122)

So, I came here instead of hiding away.

“Hold on. Someone’s at my door,” I hear Monty say before he cracks his door open, phone pressed to his ear. He takes a moment to look me over before exhaling a sigh of relief. “He’s here. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up the phone to give me his full attention. “What the hell is going on, Isaiah?”

“Can I come in?”

He looks me over, most likely noting how fucking wrecked I am, before fully opening his door to allow me inside. I barely make it into his entryway before he’s cupping the back of my head to pull me into a hug.

“You good?” he asks.

“Not exactly.” I smack him on the back a couple of times, hugging him in return before pulling away.

With a hand outstretched on my shoulder, I can feel him trying to read me, trying to figure out what’s going on. “Come on,” he says, nodding towards his couch.

I fall into it, letting my heavy body sink into the cushions. Monty heads to the kitchen, grabbing me a water, before settling in on a chair across from me.

“Care to explain why my phone has been blowing up all night due to trade rumors about you?”

“Sorry about that.” It’s my automatic response whenever I feel like I’m making someone’s life more difficult than it needs to be.

“I don’t need you to apologize, Isaiah. I just want to hear from you, not some random TV analysts, that one of my players, who I view as part of my family, is possibly asking for a trade.”

I take a long drink of the water, letting it cool my burning throat. “It wasn’t supposed to get out like that. I was going to talk to you as soon as I told Kennedy, but then my fucking agent opened his big mouth. He’s wanting to build some noise around it, I guess. Get it on other teams’ radars.”

The hurt is so fucking evident on Monty’s face. For being this solid guy who comes across as a hard-ass unless you know him, he looks devastated.

“So you are,” he states. “You’re trying to leave.”

“No.” Head hanging low, I keep my eyes glued to my lap. “Not necessarily.”

There’s a heavy pause, a clear indication that Monty wants me to keep talking.

“I’m only going to leave if Kennedy wants me to go with her. I’m not going to shop offers or anything like that. The only teams I’m willing to play for are either Chicago or the team she gets a job with. San Francisco, in this case.”

His brows furrow in confusion, shaking his head as he tries to understand. “I heard she didn’t get an offer from them.”

“She did, though. She only said she didn’t because she was trying to stay. For me.”

Understanding washes over him. “And you don’t want her to.”

“Hell no. Fredrick has gotten out of hand with her. I’m tired of it. I’ve watched him treat her like shit for years, and now she has an opportunity to get away from him and have the career she worked so hard for. I’m not going to be the reason she doesn’t take it.”

Monty doesn’t say anything, so I look up to find him watching me.

“What?” I ask.

“I wish you would’ve said something before. I’ve seen bits of it, but nothing big enough to bring to upper management. But if it really has gotten that bad, you need to file a formal complaint so we can handle it.”

I can’t do that, and she won’t do it for herself. Years ago, I promised her I wouldn’t say anything, and regardless of Dr. Fredrick getting reprimanded over his treatment of Kennedy or not, the real issue is her current job title.

“When does she have to decide?” he asks.

“I don’t know. It’s already been over a week since she turned them down so I’m hoping when she tells them she changed her mind, the position will still be hers. They wanted her out there as soon as possible to train under the current . . . medical staff.”

“And they won’t let her stay until after the season is over? That’s almost unheard of to ask for that kind of commitment from a junior position.”

Fuck.

I hate lying to Monty, but I’ve held Kennedy’s secret for so long. I’m not going to spill now. Besides, everyone will find out as soon as she leaves.

Folding forward, I lean my elbows on my knees, hands laced together. “I just don’t want you to be upset with me if I explore free agency. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you, Monty. I know we’re not like you and Kai, but you’ve been a massive part of my life since you came to Chicago, and I don’t want you to think you have anything to do with me leaving.”

“Isaiah,” he sighs. “Our relationship isn’t like the one I have with Kai because you are not your brother. He makes it pretty fucking obvious when he needs my help, even if he doesn’t directly come out and say it, but you . . . you act like a little shit half the time because that’s what you want the guys on the team to believe, so I play into it. But I know that’s not you. I see who you really are, and whether you like it or not, whether you leave or not, you will always be part of my family. You and your brother. I feel blessed that you two have let me fill a role that someone else left, you know?”

Fuck, I love this guy.

“And I’m not disappointed in you. Furthest thing from it. I’m proud of you. It takes a real selfless man to give up what you’re offering to give up, to make sure the person you love finds what makes them happy.”