The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs Book 3)

by Kate Stewart

  I fight the threatening tears. It’s true. The man I met was confident, moody, self-assured, and highly opinionated, but only around me. To others, he was an introvert.

  “Sometimes, I wonder if we did right by him. Should we have done more? Got him counseling or pried more into his life or something.”

  “He’s an amazing man,” I say honestly.

  “He is. But I’m not at all happy about the fact that he’s lashing out all the time and isolating more. But he’s still talking, and I’ve seen him crack a smile a mile wide since you’ve been here. His heart isn’t closed to you, Harper. You keep managing to find a code very few have access to. Don’t give up on him.”

  “I won’t.” I stand, the rattle in my chest hard to bear. “I’ll get Trevor and Jack a piece.”

  “Let me do that. Take one to Lance.” She stands and cuts a mammoth piece of pie and plates it along with a fork before handing it to me.

  I reluctantly take it. “You’re setting me up for failure.”

  “It’s pie. What’s he going to do, throw it at you?”

  We give each other a look, and both burst into laughter, knowing it’s a real possibility at this point with his hot and cold.

  “If he does, come get me, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “Deal.”

  “You two will work it out,” she says, stretching. “I need to go pry my drunken husband from his recliner.” She looks down at the pie. “This should do it.”

  “Night, Jeannie.”

  “Night, darlin’.”

  I make my way down the hall toward Lance’s room and hear Trevor groan. “Jesus, not that fucking song again.” His door closes, and that’s when I hear it. The music coming from Lance’s room. Just outside his door, I hear the opening lyrics to “Rest in Pieces” by Saliva. It’s while standing there that I realize the words are meant for me. He’s talking to me.

  It’s how we’ve always communicated. It’s the way he showed me who he was, told me about his struggles, his demons. It’s the same way I showed him what I was about, showed him the ways I wanted him.

  Lance always said he would get better at communication when I dubbed him Shakespeare in jest, but this is his way. I listen to the lyrics, my heart breaking when he tells me I’m beautiful, but I’ve messed with his head long enough, and he needs me to leave. It’s unbearable.

  After a quick knock on the door, I open it to see him tossing a football up. He’s bare-chested in long johns, his hair damp, and it knocks the breath from me. His olive skin looks incredible stretched over the muscles of his chest, his barbed wire tattoos stretching along his biceps with each spiral he throws up. But it’s the sight of that pigskin ball that does me in. It hammers home just how far we’ve come and how much our relationship has cost him. Silver eyes cut me to the bone as he follows me from his door to his nightstand. I set his pie down and lean over to hover above him where he lays in the bed. His beard’s grown darker, thicker, outlining his full lips, and I run my hands along his jaw to trace it. Stormy eyes regard me with a mix of hostility and love. It’s insane how much I can clearly see when he lets me. And this look tells me that this time I cut him deep, and he’s not willing to forgive so easily. He no longer trusts me with his heart. It’s not a question of love. It’s his trust I’ve lost.

  “I’m sorry.” I lean down, the necklace he gave me grazing his chest as I hover above him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, he lays there, looking up at me. In his eyes, I see a rare vulnerability. It breaks my heart I’ve hurt him so badly. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, just before I lean in closer and press my lips to his. I can feel his restraint as I pull away and stare down at him with all the love in my heart.

  “I love you,” I sniff as a stray tear falls down my cheek, splashing onto his chest. He closes his eyes on impact. I wait just long enough for his rejection before I move away. Heart splintering, I gather myself from him and make my way out. I can feel his eyes on me when I shut the door.

  In my room, I stare out the window at the pasture, knowing the confession I came to make may be the only way to get through to him. My phone buzzes in my hand as I lift it, sure it’s René, but it’s the last person I expect to hear from.

  “Daddy?”

  “Harper,” he rasps out, his voice a million miles away. “We need you to come home.”

  Harper

  The next day, I pull up to the ranch just as the sun sets. It’s been one of the worst days of my life, and I have no fight left in me. I wipe my eyes of debris and sit in the car going over the last few hours.

  “We can’t make it work,” my mother says, barely able to keep the anger out of her voice. “I’ve filed for divorce.”

  I look over at my dad, who stares out of the kitchen window. He’s been absent since his stint in prison, where he served eighteen months. Mom had come to New York the first few of them to avoid the media in Texas and any immediate threats. She was forced to sell the house to pay his fines and lawyer’s fees. Now they have a tiny one-bedroom apartment an hour away from College Station. Mom spent the whole time in New York going over years of finances with Nana, trying to find a way for them to come out of it. But the truth is my father sunk us and took away our lives with his selfish decisions. And we were all still paying for his mistakes.

  “Dad?” Kandace prompts from where she sits.

  “It’s for the best,” he says as if he’s on autopilot. As he has been since he got arrested for racketeering. My father has always been a betting man, but a gambling addiction is the last thing I expected. And the fact that he was gambling with his team, and our lives was the most shocking. After ten years as a reputable coach whose morals were based on family and trust, nothing was more jarring than the media coverage of seeing him taken off campus in cuffs.

  “Why, Daddy, just tell me why?” Kandace asks, in tears at their kitchenette. “You had everything. You had all of those people counting on you.”

  “It’s a sickness,” my mother explains, her voice lifeless.

  “And we’re just supposed to accept it? You can’t,” Kandace says, reading her the riot act. “You can’t forgive him. Twenty-six years of marriage, and you can’t forgive him.”

  Dad scrubs a hand down his face wiping away stray tears. “I don’t deserve it.” He looks down at me. “Not from anyone in this family. The things I said, the things I did, they’re unforgivable. I didn’t mean it,” he assures me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you were just trying to protect me.”

  “My reasons for my behavior were all selfish. I don’t expect you all to forgive me, now or maybe ever, but just please know I love you. I can’t give you excuses that really don’t make a difference. I have none. I ruined this. Your mother deserves to be happy, and I’m not the man who can do that for her anymore.” They share a look, and my heart cracks. I can still see the love between them, but there’s far too much water holding them both back.

  “Fine, you’re getting a divorce, that it?” Kandace stands and turns to me. “I have my own family to get back to.”

  “Kandace,” I say as she shoulders her purse and makes her way toward the door. “Kandace, stop,” I order as she hustles toward an SUV I don’t recognize. “When did you get this?”

  “A year ago.” Guilt covers me. When everything happened, I all but deserted her. She’d come to New York for a few days to visit when Mom came, but our dynamic was off because of my absence. We never addressed it because we were too busy focusing on Mom. Not only did I run from what happened, I went completely MIA on her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you even doing here?”

  “I came to be with Lance.”

  “Lance?” She gapes at me. “Are you serious?”

  “He came to New York weeks ago, asking for a commitment. I’ve been staying with his family.”

  “Well, good on ya. Guess you don’t have to worry about your own family falling apart anymore.”

  “Kandace, I miss you.” />
  She eyes me. “You cut me out. You left us all here to deal with the mess.”

  “I know.”

  “You think I didn’t need you?”

  “I’m sorry, I threw myself into dancing. I didn’t…I wasn’t myself.”

  “Selfish.”

  “Yes,” I say, moving toward her. “It was.”

  “That seems to run in the family.” I reach for her and she jerks away. “Don’t,” she says, wiping her face and avoiding my touch.

  “I was planning on coming to you after I sorted things with Lance. But you should know I left because I didn’t want it touching you anymore. The less you had to do with me, the less you would’ve had to deal with it.”

  “Are you serious? I was terrified for you. I spent so many nights worrying about you, did you for once think of me? I’m your big sister. I wanted to be there for you, to protect you and you just shut me out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, well, aren’t we all today.”

  “I love you,” I say softly. “I miss you so much. I needed you too. I just…handled it wrong. Lance is mad at me as well. I just didn’t know how to keep you all away from it and stay in your lives. I was trying to protect you all.”

  Her posture breaks, and she finally lets me wrap my arms around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m so mad at you. You broke your nephew’s heart too, you know.” She pulls from my embrace. “But don’t ever do that again.”

  “I’m sorry. It was just so hard to come back here.”

  “Baby, I know. I know. I just wish you would have talked to me.”

  “Please forgive me,” I say, crying in her embrace.

  “I will, eventually. But, I’m proud of you,” she sniffs, pulling away from me, her eyes swollen. “Just so you know. I saw you dance on TikTok. Zane showed it to me.”

  The thought of my nephew finding me on the app to watch my dance videos breaks my heart.

  “Can I see him now?”

  She eyes me. “I’m about to pick him up from school. You want to come with me?”

  “I’d love nothing more.”

  We collectively look back at the apartment building. “You think we should tell them we’re leaving?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Let them hash it out.”

  “Okay.” She unlocks her SUV, and I climb in. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I can. Neither one of them are the same anymore. I hope I can forgive Dad one day.”

  “I just…don’t you feel sorry for him?”

  “He made his bed. Maybe one day I’ll see it another way.” She adjusts the rearview and wipes her eyes. “So, you came back for Lance?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  A knock on my window has me jumping in my seat, and I see Trevor and roll it down.

  “I was hoping he didn’t scare you away. He’s been a mammoth dick for months. Thought you had left there for a second until Mom found your suitcase in the laundry room.”

  “No, I went to see my family. My dad called last night, and I dropped everything. I didn’t think about leaving a note.”

  He eyes my tear-stained cheeks. “Want to talk about it?”

  Sweet Trevor, he’s just a sixteen-year-old kid, and he’s spending most of his time trying to keep his own family together.

  “The short of it is that my parents are getting a divorce.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too. But it’s been two years, and it’s time to close that chapter. I’m okay, really. Just getting past the sting.”

  “I read about your dad, what a mess.”

  “Yeah. It was.”

  I roll up the window and lock my rental up. Stepping out, I glance around the ranch as the sun begins to set.

  “It really is beautiful here.”

  Trevor nods. “It is.”

  “You like being a rancher?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know life without it, but I love it. I do. And so does my brother. Definitely in our blood.”

  “I can see the appeal. It’s peaceful.”

  Trevor looks over at me, evident concern on his face. “Mom made meatloaf. It’s really good. I saved you a plate in the microwave. Lance has been hitting it pretty hard today. He’s blown up a few times. I think he thought you left too.”

  I realize then how stupid it was not to send a text. He’s probably been expecting this. I’d rolled my suitcase into the laundry room before I left when I discovered I had nothing clean to wear to face my parents. I’m in the Grand hoodie I stole from him and my last pair of leggings.

  “Is he still in the gym?”

  “No.”

  “Good. I want to work some of this out.”

  “Okay, well, I won’t tell him you’re here. Give you some time.”

  “Trust me, he’s not coming after me.” Trevor doesn’t hesitate, he pulls me into his arms. I hug him back and break down a little.

  “Sorry,” I sniff.

  “Don’t be. I would be devastated if my parents split. It’s got to feel weird.”

  “It does.” I pull back and manage a smile. “You’re going to be an awesome husband one day.”

  “Damn right, I am. I assure you not half as pigheaded as my brother.”

  “Well, that should do you good.”

  He looks worried when he asks. “So, you aren’t leaving?”

  “I’m tired of running from the things I’m afraid of. Doesn’t make it any less hard to deal.”

  “You’re perfect for him, you know.”

  “And he for me.”

  He hugs me again and makes his way toward the house as I square off with the barn. I’ll get back to fighting in the morning, for now, I have my own shit to work out.

  Lance

  “Hey, dickhead?”

  “In my office.”

  “It’s Dad’s office.”

  “Whatever. I’m in here.”

  Trevor turns the corner with an apple in his hand and takes a bite.

  “That’s my apple.”

  He presents me with the bitten fruit, and I wave him away.

  “All yours. What do you want?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then get out. I have work to do.”

  “Let me save you some time, we’re broke,” he says matter of fact, “you’re welcome.”

  “Yeah, well, bills still have to be paid. You might want to sit down and learn how to cut a check.”

  He takes another bite of my apple. “I’m good with manual labor, for now, especially if paying bills makes me look as constipated as it does you.”

  “Get out,” I grumble.

  “Okay, but I came in here for a reason.”

  “You came in here to fuck with me.”

  “Whatever.”

  Music sounds from the barn, and I look up from Dad’s books. “Rip out there?”

  “Nope, and since when does Rip listen to Evanescence?”

  I turn to look out at the barn, trying to ignore the pickup in my chest. I’ve been a fucking wreck all day, and it’s only made me realize what she’s capable of doing to me.

  “Mom found her suitcase in the laundry room. She didn’t leave, she just went to see her family. It was an emergency.”

  “What happened?”

  “Not my place to tell.”

  All I want to do is release the breath I’ve been holding. A part of me relieved, a larger part of me angry. When Trevor noticed her bed unmade this morning and her car missing, I hated that I wasn’t surprised.

  I expected to miss her again the minute she set foot on this ranch, which is why I wasn’t quick to welcome her. But the truth is, I’m not testing her.

  “She doesn’t belong here.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Trevor, she doesn’t. She’s a successful dancer in New York. This place will only drag her down. It’s too complicated. She needs to go back.”

  “You make it sound like you
have nothing to offer. She could be happy here.”

  “She’ll be happier doing what she was born to do.”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “Am I? Come on.” I get up from the desk and walk past him, and he follows me to the barn where we enter through the side door, so as not to alert her that we’re watching. Harper leaps across the ring just as we get the door shut and then begins turning in circles covering the length of the elevated floor, executing each spin with precision. The song is fucking depressing, the lyrics hard to listen to. And I know they’re for me. I feel every single word. I want so much to believe her, to let her back in, but she’s made it hard to trust her. The longer she stays, the harder it’s becoming to love her at arm’s length. She’s torturing us both, and I’m struggling to do right by her.

  “Jesus,” Trevor says, amazed by mere seconds of her dancing. And then I’m pulled in, rapt as she throws herself into it, every single one of her limbs poised perfectly, her physique controlled. But it’s her face that has me on high alert.

  She’s crying.

  Guilt consumes me as Trevor looks on awestruck by her raw talent.

  “She’s so good.”

  “Yeah,” I say, hearing the pride in my voice. “She’s incredible.”

  I look over to Trevor. “So, tell me honestly, little brother, would you be the guy to take that ballerina and put her back in the box?”

  Trevor doesn’t miss a beat. “She wants to be here, with you.”

  “And I don’t want her to hate me for it.”

  “I might not be as hardheaded as you, but if you can watch this without an ounce of feeling, maybe I’m looking up to the wrong guy.” He glances over at Harper and shakes his head. “This is fucking sad. I’ll be inside.”

  “See? Definition of complicated. Maybe don’t be so anxious to grow up.”

  He rolls his eyes, but leaves me there, just as Harper stops moving and starts sobbing into her hands.

  In seconds, I’m pulling her into my arms.