was a kid’s book.
“I’m Bruiser Mackey, running back for the Seattle Steelheads.” Bruiser patted Elliot on the shoulder. “And you’re Elliot.”
The kid blinked a few times then nodded. “Yeah.” He stared at his book. “I don’t watch football. Mom said it was barbaric, and Dad said it was boring.”
“It can be both at times.” Bruiser grinned and sat on the edge of the bed.
Elliot met his gaze, his forehead wrinkled with worry. “Don’t I bother you?”
Bruiser narrowed his eyes and made a show of studying the kid, looking past the angry red splotches on his face, missing right ear, and bare, scarred head. “Bother me? Hey, just because you’re a bigger fan of Tom Sawyer than Tom Brady?”
“Who’s Tom Brady?” The kid stared up at him with a quizzical expression. He really didn’t know.
“Uh, Super Bowl-winning quarterback for the New England Patriots. Not my favorite team, but it is what it is.”
Elliot gave him his full attention now. “Not mine, either, but then, none of them are. I don’t like football.”
Bruiser held his hands over his heart in a dramatic display that would’ve made the Kardashians proud. “You’re breakin’ my heart here, Elliot.”
“I am not.” Elliot stared at him like he’d gone nuts.
“We’re just gonna have to turn you into a football fan. I’ll consider that my personal quest. I’ll get you to some games.” Bruiser leaned toward the kid, still smiling, daring Elliot to smile back.
Elliot’s mouth turned down into a bigger frown. “I can’t go to a game. Not like this. My face scares people.”
“I think you’re unique.” Bruiser sobered and put on his serious face. “It’s what’s inside that matters, Elliot. Don’t ever forget that.”
Elliot swallowed and stared at his hands gripping the sheets.
Needing to lighten the mood, Bruiser spotted a checkers game sitting on a chair. “How about a game?”
Elliot perked up. Kids were like that, incredibly resilient. “I’m pretty awesome at checkers.”
“More awesome than me? I’m the awesomest checker player around.”
“Awesomest is not a word.” Elliot stared at him through those thick glasses, so very serious. Too serious for an eleven-year-old.
“According to who?” Bruiser challenged, playing the dumb blond jock to the hilt.
“Merriam-Webster,” Elliot shot right back. The kid had spunk after all he’d been through.
“Never met the guy.”
“What do I get if I win?”
“What do you want?”
“To watch all the old Star Trek reruns, like a marathon.” Elliot almost appeared excited.
Bruiser gagged as if the thought were making him sick. “Ah, man, anything but Star Trek. How about Star Wars or Robocop?” He actually liked Star Trek, but the kid seemed to be enjoying their banter.
“Star Trek was ahead of its time. Did you know that space warp is possible?”
“Uh, no, actually I never thought about it. Sure I can’t talk you into a classic like Planet of the Apes?”
Elliot shook his head pretty vigorously. “Nope, that’s my prize. I won’t settle for less than Kirk and Spock. You’d like it. The women have really short, tight uniforms.” Elliot actually laughed. A rusty, hoarse sound as if it’d been a long time since he’d used it.
“Well, now that you mention that, you’re on, because I never lose a bet.” Bruiser grinned and got a smile in return.
“Neither do I, not at checkers,” Elliot shot back. “Don’t you want something if you win?” Elliot scooted his little body higher up in the bed.
“Uh, sure, you have to watch a football game with me.”
“Only one quarter. I’m too young for more with that level of violence.” Elliot stared at him with no expression on his face.
It took Bruiser a full minute to realize the kid was jerking his chain. “A full half.”
Elliot shook his head. “One quarter. That’s my final offer.”
“Okay, fine, but I get to call you buddy. Deal?”
“Deal—buddy.” Elliot smiled at him, really smiled this time. Bruiser grinned back.
They set up the board game on Elliot’s lap tray, and the kid thoroughly enjoyed kicking Bruiser’s ass. Bruiser promised to come back over the weekend with a full DVD set of the original Star Trek series. Elliot gave him a hug when he left, as witnessed by a grateful set of nurses.
For all his Super Bowl rings and awards, nothing beat the satisfaction Bruiser got out of seeing these kids smile and hearing them laugh, ass-whooping or not.
Chapter 4—Sisters in Crime
Mac sat on a stool positioned in the middle of Zach and Kelsie’s huge kitchen while three women circled her like she-wolves prowling around a wounded fawn. Kelsie Murphy rubbed her chin and stood back,