Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I do,” he rumbled. “I’ll turn the keys into the apartment manager as we leave.”
“Thanks, man.” I offered him my hand.
Five minutes later we were getting into our Uber when a man with beady eyes came out and glared.
“You won’t play any-damn-where next year.”
“Already have a contract, Kason.” Nettie stopped at the door of the Uber. “Maybe if you got out of Eden’s vagina long enough, you might catch up on some current events.”
Nettie dropped into the car, and Kason started forward like he was going to drag her out of it by her hair.
I stepped in front of the open door and leveled him with a glare. “I will literally stomp you through that fucking grate with my boot tread if you don’t learn your fucking place.”
Kason stilled.
We locked eyes, and I waited until his widened before I said, “That’s my wife now, Kason. Make sure you don’t ever make the mistake of harming what’s mine, or I’ll bring you to Montana and show you why some people never leave.”
Kason swallowed and stepped back. “Wise decision.”
I got into the back of the Uber and the driver pulled away from the curb.
Kason watched us go with arms crossed over his chest.
The next fun shit hit a couple of hours later as we were boarding our next flight.
It was Nettie’s lawyer, Edgar Treyo.
I answered with Nettie leaned back against me as we waited on the bridge waiting to board.
“Boone,” Edgar said. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your wife.”
I smiled and pulled her in closer. “Did you find anything?”
“Even better, I won the case without going to court. They settled. And they agreed to pay out the rest of the contract. They were already on the fence after I shared a little case law with them on other cases that went to court over a pregnant woman’s wrongful termination from their sports teams. But when I showed them what we signed and what they signed contract-wise, they very wisely chose to settle out of court. How’s Nettie?”
I gave him a quick rundown.
“I’m glad that she’s doing better,” he said. “If I have any other updates, I’ll get them to you both as soon as possible. But I doubt that we’ll need anything else with this. Oh, and before I forget, they’re putting out a press release explaining what happened. That was part of my stipulation with not taking them to court. I wish Nettie would’ve let me bury them alive. But she said she didn’t want the drama from the beginning. Not that I blame her or anything. I just hate when teams manipulate their athletes.”
“Agreed,” I said. “We appreciate all the help.”
The line finally started to move, and we took the same seats that we’d had on the flight to Florida.
“Are you going to miss it?” I asked her, buckling myself in and reaching for her hand.
“Not really,” she admitted. “The sun and the sand? The heat? Yes. But my home’s always been with you, Boone. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
The press statement from Miami FC came out later that day.
Miami FC made a grave mistake in not supporting pregnant star forward, Antoinette Windsor—formerly Antoinette Wheeler. We apologize profusely for not supporting her with her pregnancy instead of making it impossible for her to play with Miami FC for choosing motherhood over her career. We wish her well on her new endeavors with the Montana Cowgirls.
I read it to her while she soaked in the bath.
“Well, better than nothing, I guess. But still didn’t go into the details of what I’ve had to deal with over the last few months.”
I smiled, but she couldn’t see.
I’d tasked Apollo with informing all of the current players on what went down, and tasked him with warning them that they might be next.
There would never be another player that had to deal with Miami FC’s shit.
Even better, maybe there’d be one of them that was a whole lot pettier and wouldn’t let them off easy like my soft-hearted Nettie had.
One day it would come, and I’d be all for it.
Twenty-Seven
Welcome to parenthood. I hope you like destruction and chicken nuggets.
—Denver to Nettie
Nettie
Labor day was here.
And I was struggling hard.
I was in my second hour of pushing, and I was exhausted.
Every time I pushed, the baby would come down, but go right back up.
I was, literally, ready to quit.
A C-section was sounding better and better.
“All right, push!” the doctor urged.
I did.
“You pooped.”
I turned to Eddy, the woman that I had not wanted in my delivery room but somehow was, and bellowed, “I’m pushing a goddamn baby out of my vagina, Eddy. Your vagina is really close to your asshole. Women shit in childbirth!”
There was silence and then Eddy looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry. It just came out.”
My sister, the asshole.