“You got it, Coach.”

He met with the trainers, who went through his range of motion. He felt no pain, which was a relief to him. A quarterback was only as good as his throwing arm. When the doc came in, they went through even more.

“No stiffness? And don’t lie to me, because I’ll know if you do.”

He liked Martin Ashwell, the team doctor. “A little in the morning when I first get up. But I do the range of motion exercises the PT staff gave me, and after a hot shower, I’m fine.”

Marty nodded. “That’s to be expected. But no sharp pains?”

“No.”

“Good.” The doc tested his range of motion, and pressed on some of the spots he’d complained were tender during the off-season. He’d had a cortisone shot, and some physical therapy.

“I really feel great, Marty.”

“Your MRI looked clear. I don’t see any scar tissue. PT staff said you worked it during off-season like you were supposed to and you didn’t miss any appointments. You’re a better patient than most of the guys. And you lifted weights and built some muscle mass in your upper body. That’ll help.”

He laughed. “I kind of need my arm. It’s my money-maker.”

Marty slapped his back. “You’re a smart guy, Grant. And a good player. You can put your shirt back on.”

The doc made some notes on his computer, then turned around. “You’re good to go. Monitor your movements and pain level. I’d say as long as you don’t do anything stupid, and stay in tune with the signals of your body, you’ll be fine. If you feel any sharp pains, let me know.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll let the coach know you’re fully cleared.”

“Thanks, Marty.”

He didn’t fully exhale until after he left the team facility and was in his car. Then he took a minute and let out a deep breath.

Yeah. He was clear. His shoulder was fine, and his career wasn’t over. He’d never said it out loud to anyone, never told his family about it, just kept it to himself. But the issue with his shoulder had scared the shit out of him. Things like that could end a quarterback’s career.

He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.

He closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel, and … breathed.

His phone rang, so he fished it out of the cup holder and checked the display.

It was his agent.

“Hey, Liz.”

“Hey, yourself. How did the shoot go in Barbados?”

“It went good.”

“So detailed as always, Cassidy. Who were you paired up with?”

“Katrina Korsova.”

“Outstanding. She’s one of the best. I can’t wait to see the pictures. Anyway, there’s a thing when you’re in New York next week.”

He loved Elizabeth Riley. She was one of the best agents in the business, a shark when it came to contract negotiations. She was also great with exposure, working with his PR team to make sure he was as noticeable off the field as he was on. He didn’t necessarily mind that.

“A thing? What kind of thing?”

“A charity function for the Merritt Foundation. They do all kinds of great things for disadvantaged youth.”

“Sounds right up my alley.”

“Good. You just need to make an appearance, take some pictures and sign some autographs. Can you make time for it?”

“I can, as long as it doesn’t interfere with practices or the game.”

“It won’t. I’ll send you the details.”

“Okay. How’s the little one?”

“She’s great, thank you for asking. Getting bigger all the time. Starting to crawl, which means I need two more sets of eyes and about four more hands.”

He laughed. “Good thing you’re multitalented like that. And you have Gavin to help you.”

“When he isn’t playing baseball, which is nearly all the time. But I have his family to help out, so it’s all good.”

“You were lucky to marry into the Rileys, weren’t you?”

“Thanking my lucky stars every day, Grant. Now play good, and I’ll be in touch.”

“See ya, Liz.”

He hung up, and thought about New York, which reminded him of Katrina. He was going to have to do something about connecting with her when he was in town. He’d thought about her a lot since the shoot. Practice and games had kept him busy, but he hadn’t forgotten he’d promised her he’d see her, even though he figured she hadn’t believed he’d pursue it.

He wanted to pursue it, and her. He wanted to meet her brother and sister.

He intended to follow up.

SIX

“HEY, KIDS, I’M HOME.”

Katrina laid her bag down in the entryway and headed down the hallway into …

Dead. Silence.

Never a good sign.

She picked up her phone to check the time. It was four p.m., which meant both Anya and Leo should be home by now.

She checked the living room, but saw no sign of them. They weren’t in the kitchen, either, so she rounded the corner and went down the hall toward the bedrooms. The doors were open to both their rooms.

Both empty.

Goddammit.

She went to her room, though they wouldn’t go in there, but still, she checked anyway.

Not there.

Their bathroom was empty as well.

There were no messages on her phone, either.

Shit.

Just as panic was about to set in, she heard the front door open, and the sounds of their voices, both of them laughing. She hurried to the front room.