CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
BREANNA
The day after the wild sex party with Connor and Declan saw me sore down there. I also had a frog in my throat, which Seanan teased me about when I tried to scold her about her breakfast choices.
“You sound funny,” the little girl laughed.
“I just have a sore throat,” I replied. “Eat your fruit.”
“What are we doing today?” Seanan asked.
“I thought we could play some tennis,” I replied.
Flynn had a full tennis court that was rarely used. I hated to see such a beautiful court go to waste. It wasn’t like I was a tennis champion or anything, but a few games would be fun. It would be something to do there at the house that wouldn’t involve driving somewhere or paying anything.
We put on our sneakers and searched out the rackets and tennis balls in the little shed beside the courts. The rackets were clean and well cared for, the balls fresh and new in their plastic can.
“I bet I can win,” I teased Seanan.
“Bet you can’t,” she replied.
“I’ve never seen you play tennis before,” I chided her. “You have this whole court, and you never play.”
“I play sometimes with Daddy.”
“Your dad plays tennis?” I marveled at the concept, trying to imagine Flynn doing something as gentrified as playing tennis. I couldn’t do it. I pictured him wearing tight white shorts that hugged his ass and put his package on display. Not bad. I guessed there was more to tennis than just hitting the balls.
Without clueing Seanan into what I was really thinking, I opened the gate and let us in to the court. There was soft netting strung high around us to catch any wayward balls. The court itself was immaculate. There were no leaves or sticks, no puddles of water from the last rain. Whether the family was using the facility or not, it was obvious the staff was keeping up with it.
I walked around to the opposite side to give Seanan the advantage of being close to the door. Serving the ball over the net, I was pleased when she hit it back to me. We had an easy back and forth volley for a while. Instead of trying to beat each other, we played collaboratively, trying to see how long we could keep our streak up.
I was feeling pretty good when the ball glanced off the frame of my racket and out of bounds. “I got it!” Seanan called, rushing after it. I saw what had happened a moment too late. By the time my feet began moving, it was all over.
Seanan misjudged the location of the ball. She was focused on catching it and wasn’t watching where she was going. She ran straight into one of the poles at the edge of the court and fell down hard.
I didn’t hear her scream. One moment she was running and giggling, and the next moment she was lying prone on the pavement. I launched himself into action, covering the distance in less than a second. I fell to my knees beside her, looking into her eyes.
They were pressed shut, and I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. I bent my head to listen, and to my infinite relief, I heard the thin hiss of air between her lips. Remembering my first aid training, I didn’t try to move her.
I felt for her pulse and found it strong. “Seanan, honey?” I asked.
She didn’t respond, and I knew what I had to do. When there was unconsciousness of any kind, no matter how brief, you had to check for a concussion. I didn’t have the ability to do that myself, so I would need help.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency services number. I explained what had happened, watching over Seanan the whole time. In the fifteen minutes it took for the paramedics to arrive, the girl began to wake up.
She blinked with difficulty, looking around in confusion. “Bre? What happened?” She tried to move but immediately lay back down. “Ow! My head hurts.”
“The ambulance is on its way,” I reassured her, holding her hand.
“The ambulance?” she wailed, not liking the sound of that.
“I’m not going to leave your side,” I promised. “I’m sure you’re okay. Everything is okay. They’re just going to take some pictures of your head and give you some medicine. Everything is going to be just fine.”
“The ball…” she tried miserably.
“Shh,” I comforted her. “Don’t worry about the ball. We’ll get it later. Let’s just worry about you right now.”
“What about Daddy?” she moaned.