It was a reminder that, thousands of miles away, outside of the bubble we had made for ourselves, reality waited for me.
For us.
“How’s he doing?” I asked, snapping out of my thoughts. “Any long-term…complications?”
“Nah. It apparently looked worse than it really was because of all the blood. He’ll make a full recovery. Luckily for you, the DA has decided to not file charges. And Detective Walker has no intention of suing. Not sure why or what caused them to be so benevolent and understanding when they were adamant they wanted you to pay, but maybe they all realized the distress the situation caused you and decided to show some humanity. Doesn’t matter why. But that’s what they decided. So if I were you, I’d be thanking God, Allah, whomever you believe in, because someone up there has got your back.”
“I sure will,” I said, exhaling a long breath.
Granted, the possibility of criminal charges being filed hadn’t exactly been on my radar, but it was still a relief to know, once I returned to Atlanta, I wouldn’t have to deal with that on top of everything else.
“And please, I beg of you, don’t pull a stunt like this in the future. I guarantee the next bastard you land in the hospital will sue you for everything you’re worth. And then some.”
“Duly noted. I will endeavor to refrain from breaking any more bones.”
“Good. Now, there’s still the issue with management.”
“Management?” I furrowed my brows. “What issue is there? The cop isn’t suing me. No charges are being filed. It’s over.”
“Not exactly. I just got off the phone with Buckley. They want to meet with you first thing Monday morning to discuss this incident.”
“Monday?” I blinked, heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. “But I’m supposed to be on bereavement leave. I—”
“Do you honestly want me to tell the President of Baseball Operations for the Hawks that you can’t make it because you’re too busy surfing or sticking your dick in some tourist over there? I’ve had my ear to the ground, trying to see where their heads are. Buckley wants to make an example out of you. Suspend you for the rest of the season. You punched three cops. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t question management right now. If they want you to show up at nine o’clock Monday morning, you show up. Don’t act like a goddamn prima donna. Pretend like you actually give a shit and don’t want to piss your career down the toilet. And, for God’s sake, wear a fucking tie. Got it?”
I pushed out a long breath, running a hand over my face.
If I’d received this phone call a week ago, I would have happily jumped on a flight back to Atlanta without a second thought.
Hell, I would have welcomed the excuse to get off this island.
That was before.
Now, I hated the idea of leaving this place. Of bursting our bubble before it was time.
But if I had to be back in Atlanta Monday morning, I needed to leave Hawaii tomorrow.
The little time I had left with Julia was now down to less than a day.
“I’ll be there,” I finally said, voice filled with resignation.
“Great. See you then. And remember—”
“I got it. I’ll wear a bloody tie.”
Pulling my phone from my ear, I ended the call, shoving my cell back into my pocket, frustration tightening my muscles.
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath, attempting to make sense of my warring emotions over the prospect of boarding a plane and leaving this place.
Leaving Julia.
After I lost Piper, I couldn’t get away from this island quickly enough, the mere thought of being surrounded by all the memories and guilt too much for me.
Now, though, I’d give anything to have a little more time here.
To have a little more time with Julia.
“Howzit, bruh?”