You never know.
Sometimes it’s best to keep things to yourself is my motto.
“You big ho.” Kaya acts like she’s going to hit me and I dodge away from her, making her laugh. “Was he a good kisser?”
I press my lips together, thinking about it. Honestly, I don’t have to think for long. “Yeah.”
“Better than Ben?” Daphne asks.
“Yes.” I don’t even hesitate with my answer.
They both laugh. “Oooh, this is so juicy,” Kaya says.
“You can’t tell anyone. I’m serious. If this gets out, and Ben finds out?” I shake my head, unable to comprehend what could happen. “That would be awful.”
“My lips are sealed.” Kaya motions zipping her mouth shut. “I swear.”
“Same.” Daphne nods vigorously.
I change the subject to cheer stuff. We’re already over it and the season has barely begun, and I’m blaming that on senioritis. It is real and I feel sort of bad that I feel this way, especially when Mom’s always telling me to enjoy my senior year, it’s my last year of school where I can truly be a kid, and blah blah blah. She means well and I know what she’s saying, but seriously.
Get me out of here.
Sixteen
It’s late. I’m sitting on my bed, binders and textbooks open and spread all around me, along with my laptop. I’m watching my favorite YouTubers while trying to do homework and I can’t necessarily concentrate on both, which means homework is suffering. Leaning over, I slam my laptop shut, and immediately hear loud voices.
At—I glance at my phone—9:37 at night.
Sliding off my bed, I make my way to my closed bedroom door and slowly open it to find my sister is already lurking outside her room in the hall, her expression full of concern. When she spots me, she raises her fingers to her lips, and I nod to let her know I get it.
What’s going on? I mouth to her.
Ava drops her finger from her lips and shrugs, then waves a hand for me to follow her, so I do. Beck should already be asleep and Jake’s in his room, meaning it’s just the two of us out here.
Raised voices is not a common thing in our household. My parents don’t fight much. Oh, they squabble a little bit here and there, but if they ever full-blown argue, they never let us catch them doing it.
We creep down the hall to the stairwell, standing at the top of it. Ava looks at me and it’s like we can read each other’s minds—we both sit at the top of the stairs, listening. We can hear everything said, yet no one can actually see us unless they’re standing right in front of the stairs.
It’s a risk we’re both willing to take.
“…I don’t know if he should be here, Drew. You know how I feel about bringing problems home. We vowed to each other a long time ago we wouldn’t do that,” Mom says.
I’m frowning. Bringing trouble home? What is she even talking about?
“He’s sitting outside right now because he’s too damn embarrassed to face you. You need to see him. Talk to him. What his mother’s boyfriend did to him is…” Dad’s voice drifts and he makes an angry sound. “If that asshole ever came near me, I’d tear him apart.”
Who in the world are they talking about?
“I just want to protect our babies. You know that’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Mom admits, and she sounds so sad, it’s almost heartbreaking.
“I know. You also always want to help those who are in bad situations, and this boy…he needs our help, babe. He’s in the worst possible situation ever.”
Unease sweeps over me. I’m pretty sure I know who they’re talking about.
Mom sighs. “Is it a good idea that he stays with us, though? He’s troubled. Beyond troubled, really. Do you want him constantly around our children? Our son, who’ll take his place next year on the team? And our daughter, who’s the same age? I think Autumn’s had a few run-ins with him over the years, though I’m not exactly sure,” Mom says.
Oh God. I was right. They’re talking about Ash. Something bad happened to Ash. And Dad wants him to…
Stay at our house?
No freaking way.
Uh uh.
“I thought they were friends.” Ah, clueless Dad.
“Not exactly friends, no.”
“Maybe friendly then? They did run for homecoming together, right? I thought they might’ve become a thing at one point.”
Me too, Dad. Me too.
“No, they’re definitely not a thing. They’ve never been a thing. But I don’t know how she’ll feel about him living in our house. I don’t know how I’ll feel having him live in our house.” Mom sounds upset, and it makes my heart hurt.
Ava nudges me in the ribs, and when I glare at her, she makes an exaggerated pouty face before she whispers, “Are they talking about Asher Davis?”
“Shh.” I don’t want to miss a word they say.
“He has nowhere else to go, Fable. The kid desperately needs a stable environment, and we can provide him with that. We have plenty of rooms in this place. He’d probably get lost. Hell, we’ll probably never see him,” Dad says, using his most persuasive voice. I’ve heard him use it on Mom before, and it usually works.
They’re quiet for a moment before she finally speaks.
“We’ll have to set down rules.” Look, she’s cracking already.
“Let’s go outside and talk to him,” Dad says.
“Why can’t he come into the house?” Mom sounds confused.
“I already told you: he’s embarrassed. He doesn’t even want to be here. I pretty much forced him to come home with me.”
“Drew! That’s probably against the law or something!”
“Where’s he going to go? And who’s going to report me? His bitch mom who had her boyfriend beat the shit out of him? Like CPS is going to be on her side,” Dad mutters. I hear the creak of the back door opening. “He’s sitting by the pool. Come on.”
The door shuts, and then there’s no more talking.
“We should go find Jake. He’ll know what happened.” Ava rises to her feet and runs down the hall, knocking on our brother’s door. She tries the handle, but it’s locked. “Jake! Let me in.”
“Go away!” Jake yells in response.
Ava sends me a look, and now I’m the one shrugging. “If the door’s locked, you don’t want to go in there. If you get what I mean.”
Ava makes a face, then knocks on Jake’s door again. “Come on! Autumn and I have questions!”
“Ava, quit screaming. You’ll wake up Beck.” Though that kid sleeps like the dead.
We hear stomping, the door unlocks and then Jake’s standing there, his tall, lanky body filling the space. “What the hell do you want?” he growls, glaring at Ava.
“Hey, leave her alone.” I jump to my feet and go over to where Ava’s standing. I’m very rarely on her side. Ava is annoying as crap. But we need information, and Jake’s probably the only one who’s got it.
Jake clamps his lips shut, frustration pouring off him. He reminds me so much of Dad. The dark hair, the piercing blue eyes, the same body shape. They walk the same, they talk the same, and girls at school trip over themselves to gain his attention. “What do you two want?”
“What happened at practice today?” Ava asks.
He glances over at Ava, then me. “She shouldn’t hear it.”
“Too late. We were both spying on Mom and Dad just now. She’s heard plenty,” I tell him.
With a sigh, Jake runs a hand through his hair. “Where are they?”
“Outside.”
“With Ash?”
“I’m assuming so,” I say as Ava nods.
“He didn’t show up for practice, and all the coaches were mad. Dad looked ready to rip someone’s face off, he was so angry. People kept calling and texting Ash, but he wouldn’t answer. After a while, Dad wasn’t so much pissed as concerned. Ash never, ever misses practice. He may be an arrogant motherfucker, but he always shows up for the team,” Jake explains.
“Jacob,” I hiss, flicking my head in Ava’s direction. “Don’t cuss in front of her.”
“I hear worse at school,” Ava says matter-of-factly, making me roll my eyes. I mean, she is a freshman in high school, so I know what she’s saying is true.
“Continue,” I tell Jake.
“So with about an hour left in practice, Dad leaves. He goes to Ash’s house, and he lives in this shitty place on the other side of town, near the elementary school. You know those old apartments behind the school?” When we nod, he does too. “Yeah, he lives there. Dad rolls up, just as Ash is practically thrown out the door of his apartment, and he’s just beat the hell up. Bruises and cuts on his face, a black eye. The works. Guess his stepdad or his mom’s boyfriend, whatever the hell you call him, kicked his ass because he stole a pack of smokes from him.”
My heart clenches at hearing Jake’s story. “Did you see him?”
“Dad came back to pick me up after practice with Ash in the backseat, so yeah. Swore me to secrecy on the drive home. Well, Ash did. He doesn’t want anyone knowing what happened,” Jake says.
“So Ash actually came home with you?”
“Like I said, he was sitting in the back of the car holding an ice pack to his eye when Dad came to pick me up. It was hard to look at Ash. His mouth was all swollen. He looked like hell.” Jake shakes his head. “Dad dropped me off here first, then they took off. I think he was trying to take Ash to a doctor? But he was already telling Dad there was no way he could go to emergency or whatever. He was afraid he’d get picked up. Like from the cops? I don’t know. I guess he threw punches too. Sounds like a freaking nightmare if you ask me…”
My brother keeps talking, but I tune him out. I want to go find Ash. Make sure he’s okay. But would he let me see him? Would he even talk to me? Probably not. He’d most likely tell me to go fuck myself.
Once there’s nothing more to say from any of us, I make my way back to my bedroom and try to resume finishing my homework. But I can’t concentrate.
All I can think about is Ash.
Deciding I can’t do this, I shut my notebooks, my binders, my textbooks. I pile them all on top of my desk and then I leave my bedroom. Sneak down the stairs, making my way through the mostly darkened house until I’m in my mom’s office, which overlooks the backyard and the pool.
Where I spot Ash sitting on the edge of one of our lounge chairs, his hand over his eye, his head tilted back as Mom stands there, talking to him. Dad stands just behind Mom, his hands on his hips, his face full of concern—and barely contained anger. My heart lurches, seeing all three of them outside. Together.
Having Ash at our house will change everything.
And I don’t know if I want anything to change.
Seventeen
Fable
Drew takes my hand and leads me toward the pool. The water is lit, a gentle blue that casts our backyard in an almost ethereal glow, and I see the boy. Sitting with his back to us, hunched over as if he wishes he could make himself disappear. Our steps slow, and when I glance over at my husband, he sends me a look, one that says go easy.
As if I’d come hard at this poor child who’s just been beaten by his mother’s piece-of-shit boyfriend. Please. I totally feel his pain. I dealt with enough of my dead mother’s piece-of-shit boyfriends to last me three lifetimes.
“Hey Ash. You’ve met my wife before, right? You remember?” Drew’s voice is soft, like he’s speaking to a skittish animal, and I have a flash of memory of him talking to me the same exact way. In those early days of our relationship, when I was always this close to running.
Though the real runner in those early days was Drew. Can’t remind him, though. He hates that.
“Yeah. Hey.” The boy’s voice is a raspy croak, and I wonder if the man also choked him. “Mrs. Callahan. Sorry to show up like this.”
We’re standing right in front of him now, and I’m overwhelmed with the need to reach out and touch his shoulder. Offer him comfort. I’m sure he’d flinch, whether he was injured there or if I spooked him, so I keep my hands to myself. “Don’t apologize. And please, call me Fable.”
He lifts his head, flicking dark hair out of his eyes, and it takes everything I have not to gasp out loud. It physically pains me to see how badly he’s been beaten, to know that someone pummeled this poor child’s face, all over a pack of cigarettes. His left eye is swollen and there’s a cut above it that looks painful. He rests his hand over it, as if he knows it’s horrible to look at, the poor thing.
“Maybe he should see a doctor.” I turn to Drew, who has a helpless expression on his face.
“Fuck that,” Asher Davis spits out, then immediately looks contrite. “I don’t want to go to the hospital, ma’am. If I do that, they’ll report what happened to me. And then they’ll put me in foster care, or worse: jail.” He grimaces, then immediately evens out his face as best he can, as if that might’ve hurt him. “Sorry for cursing, but I do not want that to happen.”
“Then you’ll have to let me take care of your wounds and clean you up,” I tell him. “The cut above your eye looks serious.”
“I cleaned him up a little,” Drew starts, but I whirl on him, sending him a look, and he goes quiet.
Drew has been there for this boy from the start. It was Asher Davis’s raw talent that had convinced my husband he needed to volunteer as a coach for the team, besides preparing our son to eventually be on the football team. Now Drew is the offensive coordinator for the varsity team, and I still can’t believe how lucky our little local high school is to have this former Super Bowl champion as their coach, yet here we are. Living our best life with Drew the Do-Gooder.
I love my husband more than words can say, but sometimes he does so much for others that I feel selfish. I want him for me, for us, for our family, and no one else. He’s mine. Ours. No one else gets him.
But all sorts of people get him, including this poor child who’s currently dripping blood on my thousand-dollar chaise lounge cushion because his mom doesn’t give a shit about him. And that makes me furious.
“I’m fine. The cut’s no big deal. Might give me a cool scar,” Ash assures me, tilting his head back farther, and that’s when I see them. The fingerprint bruises on his neck. I raise a hand to my mouth, stifling the cry that spills, and he immediately hangs his head, knowing I spotted them. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles to the ground.
Without thought, I kneel in front of him, resting my hands on his knees gently, so I don’t hurt him if he’s injured there. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t move at all. Just keeps his head bent, his dark hair just long enough to fall forward and obscure his face. He’s like an injured puppy. An animal who’s been kicked and beaten again and again. I bet if I got him to take off his shirt, I could find some old scars. Others might not recognize them, but I could. I’ve seen that sort of thing. On myself.
On my brother, Owen.
The scars eventually fade to nothing, but the wounds remain. And seeing Ash like this opens up all those old wounds, filling me with pain. Pain for him. Pain for myself.
“Asher.” He doesn’t so much as twitch when I say his name. “Ash. Will you let me take you inside and check your injuries? Then you can take a shower and once you’ve cleaned up, I can apply some bandages if needed.”
Oh so slowly, he lifts his head, until his black-as-night eyes meet mine. He’s scared. His entire body is trembling, and his face is covered with a thin sheen of sweat. It’s colder up here, close to the lake, and maybe that’s why he’s shivering, but I don’t think so.
I think he’s terrified. And the shock of what’s happened to him is starting to wear off, leaving him a mess.
If I knew he’d go willingly, I’d probably pull him into my arms and clutch him tight. Tell him everything’s going to be okay, even though I don’t know if that’s the case. I don’t want to lie, but who knows what’s going to happen to him?
Drew and I will just have to take care of him as best we can.
“I don’t want to go to school tomorrow,” he whispers, his voice still raspy, as if it hurts to speak. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”
“You don’t have to go to school for a few days, but eventually you need to get back there. You don’t want to get behind in your classes.” I glance over my shoulder to see Drew nodding in agreement, his hands on his hips. The frustration is coming off him in waves, and I know he feels helpless.
I do too.
“Whatever. Everyone will know by tomorrow morning anyway. They’ll probably say I’m dead.” His mouth quirks into a half smile that doesn’t reveal any teeth, but then he groans in pain. “Fuck, my lips hurt.” He sends me a look. “Sorry.”
“I’ve said worse,” I reassure him, making his eyes go wide. Reaching out, I gently place my hand on his head, ruffling his hair. He ducks away from my touch, like it’s a habit, and I’m afraid this boy is going to steal a part of my heart. I thought my heart was full enough with my four children and my husband.
But I have a feeling I could end up loving this one as my own too.
Eighteen
Autumn
Mom is with Ash until past midnight. I scramble back upstairs by the time the back door opens and they all come inside the house. Mom sends Dad upstairs, and I hide in my room with the door wide open while he fetches extra clothes from Jake, who’s close in size to Ash.
Meaning Ash has to be spending the night. In our house.
I can’t believe it.
Once I hear Dad running back down the stairs, I came out of my room to find Jake’s door open. He spots me and frowns. “He’s staying here.”
“Ash?” I whisper, needing one hundred percent confirmation.
“Yeah. He’s in the guest bathroom shower now. Dad asked if I could loan him a couple sets of clothes to see him through the next few days until he can get back to his place and pick up the rest of his stuff.” Jake shakes his head. “What the hell is going on? Are they going to let him move in here?”
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