“Fine. I mean, it doesn’t really hurt these days,” I lied. Rehab on my surgically repaired leg was a work in expensive progress, but the last thing I was going to do was complain to a guy who routinely dodged actual bullets.

“You’re a fighter, that’s for damn sure. When I first saw you after the accident… Well, never mind that. Proud of you.”

And that right there was reason number one why I needed to get Bruno his cards back. He’d been my first call that terrible night, and never once had he complained about having to be the one to tell Mom or all the ways, big and small, that he’d had to help me in the months that followed.

“Thanks. And, uh…you hanging in there?” I never knew precisely how to ask about his work.

“Yup. You can tell Mom I’m keeping my head about me. Don’t worry her, but shit’s been real here.” There was an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there a second before, but then he exhaled hard. “Anyway, I’m hoping to get word that we’ll be heading back to the States soon. Can’t wait to see you both. Think you’ll be up for an Odyssey game?”

“Maybe,” I hedged, bile rising in my throat.

“It was fun, right? Nice to have something to do now that kicking the ball around is out…”

Soccer had been his sport first, then mine, and something we could always share. Except I’d gone and ruined that too.

“Yeah. It wasn’t bad. Fun game.”

“And you’re a natural. Got those killer reflexes left over from the field.”

Oh God. Panic joined the nausea party. A natural. George had said that too. And I’d been my usual cocky self and believed him. And look where that had gotten me.

“I’m not that great. Not like you.”

“Hey, you’ll get there. I’ll show you more about deck building when I’m home. We’ll go through all my cards, maybe have a beer now that you’re actually legal.”

“Sounds good.” I had no idea how I managed to get the reply out without croaking.

“Soon.” Bruno said the word like a prayer, and I knew he’d be in mine later. Real shit indeed. I wanted him home safe in the worst way.

“Soon,” I echoed. This was it. I really was going to retch now. I was a crap brother and worse human. Bruno had asked for one thing after all he’d done for me, and I’d fucked it up.

A voice sounded from near Bruno. “Lionetti. Gotta go, man.”

“Time’s up.” Bruno sounded weary, like Mom at the end of a long day. My chest ached as surely as if he’d landed a fist there. “Take care.”