Page 36 of Blind Spot
“He thinks I’m the best guy to ask,” I said.
Chapter nine
Varga
Before I typed my response, I held the phone up so Rook could see it. He read the text.
For half a second there was nothing in his face at all, no raised eyebrow or half-nod. I saw none of the faces I’d spent five years learning. This one was new.
I sat up. “Who is this Kovac guy?”
“Don’t answer it,” Rook said. “I’m doing the piece. He doesn’t need you.”
“Rook.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“He got my number and texted me. I’m not going to pretend a guy didn’t—“ I clenched my teeth to slow the words. “You said you’d tell me.Give me a few days.That was a week ago. Before that, it wastomorrow,in bed. You said—“
“I know what I said.”
“Then tell me the rest of it.”
His hand came off the back of the couch and moved toward my knee for reassurance. It was an old Rook reflex. I needed it. Then his hand settled on his thigh instead, fingers spread.
“Not tonight,” he said, quieter. “Please.”
I turned the phone over and said, “Okay.”
He stood without looking at me or the TV. He squeezed my shoulder once before leaving the room. It was the first real touch since the phone buzzed, and I leaned into it.
The office door didn’t slam. It clicked.
I went to the kitchen instead of upstairs. Going up meant going to bed alone, and I wasn’t ready for that.
I got a glass and ran the tap until it ran cold. Without turning on the lights, I drank standing at the counter with the range and microwave clocks glowing in the dark.
My phone buzzed again, and I almost dropped it. It wasn’t Rook or Kovac. It was the group chat, IRONHAWKS (NO COACHES). The title was a lie, since we added Coach Markel two years ago as a joke, and he never left. He read everything and said nothing, the most Markel thing a man could do.
Somebody dropped the schedule for our next long out-of-town swing. It was ten days in six cities, home the Sunday before American Thanksgiving.
Trier:ten days. who decided ten days
Trier:I have a cat. it needs me
Cross:the cat will live. hire somebody
Trier:the cat will NOT live, the cat has feelings
Mikkelsen:what’s the dress code for the team dinner in Pittsburgh?
Trier:rafe nobody’s gonna tell you. we want you to be the only one in a tie
Mikkelsen:ok so a tie
Cross:ignore Trier and wear the tie kid
I watched my teammate try to play the kid in real time and didn’t jump in to save him. Any other night, I’d have been in there in four seconds.Rafe, no, it’s atrap.Trier owns zero ties,and was raised by wolves in a Walmart parking lot.The kid would’ve done his one quiet laugh, and I’d have felt useful.
