Page 22 of ClickBack

Von.

I let it stop. It starts again.

“Somebody needs you,” Giselle says.

“My brother.”

“Then answer.”

“He needs to sleep.”

“Apparently he needs to talk first.”

The third call comes before I can argue. I answer and settle against the headboard.

“What?”

“You watching this bullshit?”

Von’s voice carries. Giselle hears him, glances at me, and settles with her hand on my stomach.

“You’re going to have to narrow that down,” I tell him.

“Every panel on TV got something to say about Monday. They freeze one possession and act like I spent the fourth quarter hiding.”

“You scored thirty-one.”

“Exactly.”

“And you didn’t call me to count.”

He goes quiet. I wait him out. Beside me, Giselle draws the sheet over her shoulder.

“Cole missed the corner,” Von says.

“He was open.”

“I could’ve kept it.”

“With two on you.”

“Made harder shots.”

“You also made the right pass.” I shift higher against the headboard. “They come at you like that again, you give it up again. You start forcing it for a panel, you’re doing the defense a favor.”

He lets out a frustrated breath. I can picture him with one hand behind his head, staring at a replay he has watched enough times to draw from memory.

“I called to vent,” he says.

“Go ahead.”

“You turned it into film.”

“That’s free.”

Giselle laughs beside me.

Von stops. “Hold up. Who was that?”