After the game, p.11
After the Game, page 11
part #3 of The Field Party Series
paint. I wanted him as destroyed as I was.
Picturing my mother’s face stopped me, and I sank down into my seat and laid my head on the steering wheel. This would kill her. She adored that man. She did everything for him. If she found out, she’d be so crushed, and I wasn’t sure she could make it. I loved her, but she wasn’t that strong.
Starting my truck, I headed for home then stopped. I couldn’t face her. Not now. I couldn’t face anyone. I needed to be alone. So I turned my truck north and drove. It was all I could do: drive away from the false sense of security I had lived in here.
Football no longer seemed important. College no longer weighed on my mind. Just the fact that my family was living a lie and my father was about to completely destroy all I’d known. I would never forgive him. I couldn’t bleach my brain and unsee that. If I could, I would.
We had everything. He had everything, and he was throwing it away for what? Some woman who looked hot in a miniskirt?
Asa passed me and honked, but I couldn’t even wave back. I didn’t want to. That was my past life. The one where I wanted to make my dad proud. The one where I cared about my future. The one where my mother was loved and provided for. Everyone in this town was a part of that life.
Were they all living a lie? Was no one real? Was life here one big fat production?
I drove looking straight ahead, my head pounding from the powerful vomiting and the sight that wouldn’t go away replaying in my head. Stopping meant I’d have to go back there. I never wanted to go back there. I never wanted to see that man again.
He had ruined it all. For me. For my mom. For the football team. For this town.
Because Brady Higgens was broken. I wouldn’t work properly now. I just didn’t give a fuck. I’d done my best to be the kid everyone was proud of. I’d played by the rules and I’d been good.
What good had that done me? None whatsoever. My dad was a fucking whore.
The Fairy Tale from Our Childhood Is Gone
CHAPTER 27
RILEY
It was almost eleven when I put my phone down and climbed into bed. Brady hadn’t called, and he hadn’t come by at nine like he said. I could have texted him, but I had too much pride for that. He was the one who had asked to meet up with me tonight. I hadn’t asked him.
The idea that something could be wrong with him played in my head. I finally pushed it away. If he’d been hurt, I would know by now. The entire town would know. I forced my eyes closed and listened to Bryony’s even breathing. She was here, and that was all that I needed.
Trusting a guy, even one like Brady, was stupid. They were all the same. He had a better option come open tonight and took it. From him, I at least expected more. Like a text explaining or saying he wouldn’t be here. Which was so un-Brady-like for him not to do that I began to get concerned again.
My phone vibrated on my nightstand, and I stared at it. I had forgotten to put it on silent. That was Brady. No one else had my number and would be texting me so late. Did I ignore it? Or read it? He was two hours late. But knowing Brady, there had to be an excuse.
I picked up the phone.
You awake?
Seriously? That’s his text after not showing up like he said? I really should ignore it. I started to when I saw headlights pull into my drive then shut off. Did he really think I was coming outside at eleven?
I’m in bed. There. That would send him on his way.
I started to put the phone down when he replied.
I’m outside.
Rolling my eyes, I texted, I know. But I’m in bed.
I waited to see if he’d back out. He didn’t. He continued to sit there. If this were any other guy, I’d think that he was assuming I would come running. But it was Brady, who knew better and was more respectful. Thoughtful.
Love isn’t real. It sucks. I fucking hate it.
I read his words and a frown wrinkled my brow. What? He wasn’t making sense. Why was he talking about love? And had I ever heard him say fucking before?
You believe shit and you trust people. But they let you down and fuck everything up. They’re selfish.
His newest text finally drew me out of bed. I put on a pair of flip-flops and headed down the hallway. My parents’ bedroom door opened and my mom peeked out at me.
“What are you doing?” she asked. Her glasses were still perched on her nose, which meant she was awake reading.
“Brady is outside, and from his texts he seems really upset about something. I’m going to check on him. He doesn’t sound like himself.”
Mom nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen out for Bryony.”
“Thank you.”
I didn’t get the be careful or be smart lecture most girls got. The one I used to get back when I started dating. My parents knew that I was well aware of what could happen. I had lived through it.
I opened the door as my phone vibrated in my hand again. I didn’t read this time. I just went to his truck.
When I opened the passenger-side door, the smell of beer surprised me. There were three empty bottles on the floorboard and one in the cup holder. What in the world was going on?
“What’s wrong?” I asked him, closing the door behind me.
“Everything,” he drawled. Four beers to most guys wasn’t much, but for Brady, who never drank, it was a lot. I could hear the effect in his voice. He was slurring—for the first time in his life, I’d wager.
“You’re drinking. And driving. It must be bad.”
He let out a hard laugh and laid his head back on the seat. “Bad,” he repeated, then laughed some more, but there was no real humor in it. There was bitterness there. And pain.
He reached for the beer and I took it away. “That’s enough, I think. Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
He closed his eyes tightly as if he was blocking out something bad. Something he didn’t want to remember. I sat there quietly, understanding that he needed time. This wasn’t easy. Whatever it was had really done a number on him.
“I wanted to use my dad’s truck tonight. So we could go around undetected. People wouldn’t be looking for me that way. Give us some privacy in this small town.” He stopped and laughed again. “Privacy. I don’t give a fuck about privacy. They can all fucking know now! All of them! I’ll put it on a damn billboard and they can fuck themselves. The whole damn lot. It’s just football. Just motherfucking football. Means nothing. It’s not what matters in life. What matters is having trust. A family that you trust.” He slammed his palm on the steering wheel.
So this was about family? His family? What, did his dad not let him use his truck? Surely that wasn’t what all this was about.
“Brady, what happened?” I repeated my question.
He sighed and winced. “I went to his office. He was working on a Sunday. Who the hell works on a Sunday? Apparently my dad does. But he wasn’t working.” The look on Brady’s face made me sick. My stomach knotted up. I hoped this wasn’t going where I feared it would.
“Brady, no,” I whispered, already seeing the pain so clear on his face to know this was going to end badly. Terribly.
“She was younger, blond, naked, and on his desk. His pants were down.” He stopped and inhaled sharply. Just saying those words had to be like a knife being shoved in his chest. He had parents like mine. The ones everyone trusted and believed were perfect.
I didn’t know what to say. If this had been me, was there anything that could have been said to ease my pain? No. The suffering would never end. It would ruin me. Moreso than Rhett had. Bryony had healed that, but could anything heal this?
“He didn’t see me. They were too busy.” He said the last word like a sour taste in his mouth. “And my mom was home cooking him his favorite dinner. The cake he loves so much was in the oven smelling up the house.”
My heart was breaking. For Brady and his mother. These secrets never stayed a secret. They always found a way of coming out. This was a small town, and Brady was the golden boy. His family was the rock-solid type that everyone respected. It would all come tumbling down.
“And my biggest concern when I woke up this morning was a fucking football game. I’ve never had a real problem. Never faced something that changed my life.” He turned his head and finally looked at me. “But you have. You lived through hell and came out okay. How did you survive?”
I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be all right. But that was a lie you told children when they lost their pet. It wasn’t the truth. No one had ever told me that. But my heart hurt for him, and fighting the urge to comfort him was hard. It wasn’t what he needed, though. I knew that. My feelings for Brady had grown stronger with each day, and I never realized how seeing him in pain would affect me. Until now. I did what I had to do. I told him the truth. He’d been fed enough lies about life.
“You survive. You remember that life is hard. Shit happens and you have to get tough. The fairy tale from our childhood is gone. Living in it makes us weak. Your mom will need you, and you’ll have to be strong for both of you.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
I understood that feeling too. I’d had it often back then. When I thought my life was over and I’d never make it through.
“You can. You just have to find it deep inside. It’s there. The strength. We all have it, but it lies dormant until we need it. Then we have to look for it and use it.”
I Hope You Slept Well
CHAPTER 28
BRADY
My head was pounding when I opened my eyes. A pair of big blue eyes were staring back at me. Startled, I jumped, but she continued to stare. Her head tilted to the side. She looked a lot like her mother at that moment.
“Hey?” she whispered, still very close to my face.
I glanced down at my body and saw I was on a sofa in Riley’s grandmother’s house, covered in a yellow-and-blue afghan. Riley hadn’t allowed me to drive last night, and I was glad. Not because I agreed that I was drunk but because I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to see my dad.
The sick knot returned, and I wanted to go back to sleep, where yesterday never happened.
“Have you seen Thomas?” an older lady asked me as she walked into the living room. She wasn’t concerned that I was on her sofa.
“No,” Bryony answered her, then she looked back at me. “Thomas wif Jesus,” she said, still whispering.
I couldn’t even begin to understand that, so I just nodded.
“Good morning, Brady. I hope you slept well,” Mrs. Young said as she entered the room. I sat up on the sofa this time and wondered if she had known I was here. It had been late when we came inside last night.
“Uh, yes, ma’am. Thank you,” I replied.
“No reason to hurry. I just woke Riley up. She’ll be in here in a moment. I’m making some coffee. Do you want any?” It seemed as if Riley had told her I was here last night. She wasn’t at all surprised.
“No, thanks. Not a coffee drinker,” I replied.
“Good. Don’t become one. It’s the hardest habit to break. I drink way too much of it.”
“Have you seen Thomas?”
Riley’s mother turned to her own mother and patted her on the back. “Not this morning. Why don’t we go get your breakfast started. He’ll turn up sometime.”
Bryony ran after them. “I some hungwy,” she called out.
Riley’s mother stopped and bent down to pick her up. “I’ll bet you are,” she replied.
Then they all left the room, and I got up and began to straighten where I had been sleeping.
“You going home?” Riley asked.
I turned to see her in the cut-off sweats she’d been wearing last night and a tank top. Her hair was messy from sleep, but she seemed unconcerned about that. I liked that about her.
“Yeah. I got to shower and change before school. I’m already going to miss morning workout. Don’t care, but my father will.”
That was a confrontation I was dreading. Looking at him was going to infuriate me. I couldn’t just tell him what I knew. I had to decide how to tell my mom first. This was going to rock her world as much as he had mine. No, it would rock it more. Because he was her other half, the man she’d trusted for twenty years.
“Are you going to tell your mom?”
Eventually. “Not yet. I need to think this through. She is delicate.”
Riley gave me a sad smile. “Just because she cooks your meals and takes care of the home doesn’t make her weak. She’s raised you, brought a girl into her home who faced a tragedy I can’t begin to comprehend, and was a mother to her. She’s tough. Give her that credit.”
She was loving. But did that make her strong?
“I still need some time.”
Riley nodded. “Okay. I’m here if you need me.”
I wanted to hug her. Kissing wasn’t real big on my list right now. My father had ruined that image for me. But having Riley in my arms sounded good.
With her mother, grandmother, and daughter in the next room, I decided against it. “Thanks for last night.”
“Anytime.”
I headed for the door and glanced back just before I walked out to see her watching me go. She even woke up beautiful. She wasn’t trying to be fake. She was just her.
“I’ll call you,” I told her.
She just nodded.
Then I headed home.
* * *
My dad’s truck was still in the drive when I pulled in. He was normally gone to work by now. My not being at home when he woke up had delayed that. He’d be inside right now waiting on me. Ready to question me and correct me. Bastard. He had no right to correct anyone.
He could go to hell for all I cared.
Slamming my truck door, all the anger from yesterday boiled to the surface and although I needed to calm down before I walked in that door to face him, I couldn’t. I wanted to yell at him and let him see the hate in my eyes.
He opened the door before I got there, his face a mask of disappointment and fury. As if he had the right to feel either. I’d slept on a friend’s sofa, and I’d be late to school. Neither of those things would destroy anyone. He couldn’t say the same for what he’d done yesterday.
“Where have you been?” he barked at me.
“None of your fucking business,” I replied as I tried to brush past him.
His hand grabbed my arm to stop me, and the strength in his grip wasn’t pleasant. “Who the hell do you think you are? I make the rules in this house. You don’t speak to me that way and you don’t stay out all night.”
I tried to jerk my arm free. Just being near him made me cringe. “Whatever,” I said, snarling at him.
“You smell like beer,” he replied with disbelief on his face. “Are you trying to throw away your future? You got this close and now you’re going to toss it? For what? A girl who lies and sleeps around?”
He hadn’t come looking for me because he had known where I was. Had Riley’s mother called him? Probably. The asshole was throwing accusations at Riley, who had done nothing wrong. How dare he?
With a quick glance to make sure my mother wasn’t standing anywhere near us, I leaned into him. “At least I’m not married and fucking a woman in my office,” I spat and jerked my arm free this time from his grip. His face paled some, and I knew he understood what I was saying.
I stalked past him and toward the stairs just as Maggie was coming down them. She had a questioning look in her eyes, but she said nothing. She was someone else who would be affected by this. Her parents were both dead, thanks to her father, and this family was her only security. Dad had blown her world to shit too.
“We aren’t done talking,” Dad said from the bottom of the stairs.
“Want to fucking bet?” I shot back at him and slammed the door of the bathroom behind me.
He’s a Handsome Thing, Ain’t He?
