“Are you going to come home this weekend?” she asks, and I wince, hating to hear the hope in her voice.
“You know Dad wouldn’t want me here,” I remind her, and I don’t really care to see him either. Not after the way he’s treated me.
“That’s not true. He misses you, Wolfe. He’s bad at showing affection, but he loves you.”
“I don’t think he loves anyone but himself, but hey, what would I know,” I say, feeling the familiar self-loathing wrapping itself around my limbs and threatening to choke me.
“Come on. Don’t.” She leans forward and takes my hand. “You’re a good and loving big brother. I couldn’t have asked for a better sibling.” Her words cause the feelings of being unworthy to grow deeper and deeper until I feel like I’m being swallowed whole, and that’s when Fluffy decides to turn around and lick my face.
Cait laughs. “Fluffy agrees.”
I take the dog and place her on the floor. A part of me doesn’t feel deserving of love; not even from the dog.
“Stop. You know I’m not.” I pull my hand from her grasp and stand. I take a few steps and give her my back because the last thing I need is for Caitlyn to feel sorry for me. “I spend most of my time at college. I barely come back to see you.”
“You’re living your life. I wouldn’t want you to stay home. I want you to be out there succeeding,” she says, because she’s thoughtful and amazing and it should be me in that chair, not her.
“I don’t know what I’m succeeding at. I seem to be failing all around. But enough about me. Tell me how things are going here. Have you applied to any colleges?” I ask.
“I applied, but I still don’t know if it’s what I want.”
“You’ve been designing dresses ever since I can remember. Do you really want to give up on that dream? You can go to college, Cait. The campuses are wheelchair accessible and so are the dorms.”
“And who is going to want to room with the crippled girl?” she scoffs.
“Everyone, once they realize how amazing you are,” I say, but my words feel limp to my own ears. I can’t help but think of the way Rebel walks around campus like she’s invisible, and I just feel so angry.
“We both know that’s not how real life works. You saw how my friends reacted after the accident. Jack dumped me before I even left the hospital,” she says. “What was it that he said?” She taps her chin. “Oh yeah, things got a little too complicated.”
Her words feel like a lash cutting me open again and again. “Jack was a stupid-ass kid who wasn’t worth your time. He’ll end up running his father’s Fortune 500 company and live a shallow existence until one day he’ll find himself drowning at the bottom of a bottle,” I snap, feeling my emotions running high. I don’t mean for my voice to be so loud, but I can’t help it either.
Cait wheels herself closer to me. “Relax, big brother. What has you so twisted up?”
“I don’t know. Life?” I say.
Cait gives me a curious look. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll consider college again. Besides, there are still a few months before we get some answers anyway. My therapist has been pushing me to apply. She says staying here would be like resigning to live my life in a toxic environment, and she isn’t wrong.”
“What about the surgery?” I ask, knowing it’s a sensitive topic. “I was talking to Dr. Egerton when I saw him and he says it’s worth a shot.”
“And if something goes wrong, I can be worse off,” she reminds me.
“Those chances are low,” I say, even though I’m scared of those small percentages the doctors speak of too. If Cait could just walk again, she could be like Rebel. Limping on one leg. It would be better than the chair.
She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m considering it, okay?” I see her eyes fill with unshed tears before she looks away.
“I don’t want to upset you. I want the best for you. I can be with you through the whole thing. Classes end in April and I can be by your side.”
“Thank you,” she says, but she doesn’t look me in the eyes and I hate it. “Talking about college is easier than the surgery.” She smiles. “I know it would be good for me to leave this house. That’s why my therapist suggested I go to a game and get a feel for what college life is like without the commitment.”
“I hope to be game ready soon. I’d love for you to come watch me play.” My parents had never come to watch any of my games when I played junior hockey. I always had my dad’s driver take me and pick me up from games. “And you need the hell out of here,” I say, thinking of my mother. The house seems eerily quiet. “Where is our dear mother anyway?”
“Probably in the same spot she was when you walked in,” Cait says dryly. “She says less and less these days. I’m not sure what I prefer more. The stone silence or the crazed outbursts.”
“Shit, Cait. I hate this for you.”
“So come back for Thanksgiving,” she pleads.
“I’m not sitting at a table with our father and having a meal,” I say.
“Well, I’ve got to hand it to you. You’ve done good without his help.” She snickers.
“Yeah, and I plan on continuing to do well.” I puff out my chest.
“Still working on that political science degree?”
“Yeah, you know I am,” I say. “Why?”
“Because, when are you going to take your stupid head out of your ass and realize you don’t want to become a lawyer? If you spent more time training and less time studying, you could enter the draft next year.”
“What?” I ask, thrown off by my sister. Even though I shouldn’t be. Cait has a way of getting in my head and understanding it better than me.
“You heard me,” she says, raising her right brow. We’re only two years apart, so growing up, we were close. When we were younger, we would fight a bit or play fight. Then, as we got older, we became good friends, even though we always liked to horse around. Probably because it annoyed the shit out of our parents.
“I’ve been thinking about that lately. I still need the grades to keep my scholarship, though,” I say.
“Do what makes you happy, Wolfe. If life has taught either of us anything, it’s that we need to make the most of our time.” A look of resigned sadness crosses her face.
“Can you please give yourself the advice you seem to be dishing so easily?” I ask her back.
“I’ve got issues. This wheelchair is hard to accept. I don’t want it. I want my old life back,” she says sadly.
I lean over and hug her. “I know, Cait. I know.”
I wish I could do something to make her feel better, but I’m at a loss. Before leaving the house, I go for a quick visit with my mother. When I find her, she’s sitting in a chair in front of the large window on the mezzanine level of our home. From here I can see the large property covered in green grass and manicured gardens. From the outside everything seems so perfect.
“How are you, Mom?” I ask her, but today, I get no reply. She has a blank look on her face. “Cait could sure use your wisdom about now,” I say, because I hate that my mother would rather be stoned out of her mind than be a mother to her daughter who clearly needs her. Even though I know Cait is tough and working through her issues.
I watch her lower lip tremble, but I still don’t get a response. I kiss her forehead. “It was good seeing you too, Mom. Happy Thanksgiving.” I stand and wait. Nothing.
I turn back down the stairs and tell Cait I’ll pick her up for our next game.
“It’s fine. I can have Jeffries drive me,” she says.
“If I can swing it, you’re coming with me,” I tell her. She needs to have some normalcy. And if I can show her what Westfall College is all about, then that’s what I’ll do.
“My chair won’t fit in your car.”
Lana walks into the room at that exact moment. “I was just going to offer you some coffee or tea, but I hear you need a vehicle. You can take the Escalade. It’s Cait’s car,” Lana says.
/>
“She’s right,” Cait says. “Technically, the Escalade is mine. You can drive here and leave your car and take me in the Escalade.”
I hate using anything purchased by my father, but for Cait, I make the exception.
“Deal. So, I’ll be in touch soon. Happy Thanksgiving.” I give my sister and Lana a hug and then I head back out to my car, feeling like shit that I have to leave Cait in this broken palace.
Nine
Rebel
Blossom walks back and forth in the kitchen looking for her keys and her cell.
“Here.” I pass them to her.
She’s already dressed in the uniform she wears to the diner, which is a royal blue t-shirt and a matching cap that say Buck’s Diner and a pair of blue jeans.
“Thanks,” she huffs, annoyed. She slept in and now she risks being late for her shift.
“I can’t believe Buck is making you work on Thanksgiving.” I shake my head.
“I can’t believe it either,” she says, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“When will you consider using the insurance money to go back to school?” I ask for the umpteenth time.
“That money is yours,” she says. “Besides, we’re getting by.”
“And I want you to use some of it. It’s more than enough and you know it,” I argue.
“You got hurt, not me. I’m not taking your money,” she says stubbornly as she peels a banana and takes a few bites.
Preston walks into the kitchen wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. He better not intend on spending the day in this house without my sister here. Our conversation about money comes to an end because I don’t need him knowing our personal stuff.
“Mornin’,” he says and then walks over to Blossom and gives her a kiss on the lips.
I cringe.
“I sure could use a cup of coffee,” he says to Blossom.
So get it yourself. Asshole.
“I gotta run. I’m already late for work,” Blossom grumbles, heading to the door and slipping her jacket on.
“Seriously?” I eye my sister. She needs to tell him to leave.
“What?” she asks, not understanding my body language. “I hate to leave you,” she says to me. “You can go to the Donovans’ for dinner.”
“And what about you? You always come with me.”
“I need to work. Buck is paying me time and a half today and I don’t want to get fired if I don’t,” she says.
“He can’t do that,” I argue.
“But he can,” she says, shaking her head. “Welcome to the real world, Rebel.”
“I gotta leave. I’m sorry. I wanted to make a pie to take to the Donovans’ but I didn’t have time. Give them my regrets. Love you,” she says, then she looks at Preston. “You’re going to your sister’s, right?”
He looks confused for the briefest of seconds, then clears his throat and says, “Yeah,” with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Happy Thanksgiving, you guys. I’ll see you two later,” Blossom says, and she rushes out the door. A gust of cold wind flows into the kitchen as she leaves, but it isn’t the only thing giving me shivers.
I turn around and head to my room.
“Uh, Rebel?” Preston calls out. “You don’t mind me staying here to hang out today, do you?”
Dammit.
This man gets me so on edge that my insides are shaking. “I have work to do and a pie to make,” I say. I want to tell him to leave, but a part of me is scared of his reaction. I still don’t know if he gets violent. Maybe he does or maybe he doesn’t. I don’t care to find out.
“Cool,” he says.
“Just don’t be snorting anything in this house,” I add, because I can’t help myself.
“That was a mistake. It won’t happen again,” he says.
Sure. Of course I believe you.
Just like Momma believed Daddy every time he said he was sorry. Until she didn’t believe him anymore and took off.
I head back to my room. End of semester is coming up in a couple of weeks and I need to prepare for exams, but when I get to my desk and open my laptop, I can’t focus knowing that man is in this house. Knowing that my sister is making the mistake of her life by being with him.
On a whim, I pack up my stuff and change out of my sweatpants and sweatshirt. I put on a gray sweater and a pair of jeans and then I take my stuff and head downstairs, hoping Preston is hanging out in Blossom’s room so I don’t have to see him.
Just my luck, he’s sitting at the kitchen table shoveling eggs and toast in his mouth.
“I’m heading out,” I say as I slip on my Doc Martens.
“Take it easy,” he says.
Frustration fills my veins along with anger that he’s in my house and I don’t feel comfortable here.
I head down St. Claire Avenue thinking that I saw a sign saying that the Coffee Bean would be open on Thanksgiving.
The streets are quiet. Most students leave the Westfall area Thanksgiving weekend because they all head home to their families. The sky is gray and gloomy, but I’m glad the wind isn’t strong.
I trudge slowly along the side of the road when I see a familiar Mustang driving in the opposite direction. I assumed he would be gone this weekend.
Of course Wolfe stops the car. He rolls down his window. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I answer. This feels so awkward. Why would he stop me in the middle of the street? Because that seems to be his thing. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I say, trying to sound cheerful, even though I am anything but.
“Yeah, you too,” he says drily.
I think he’s going to continue on his way when he says, “Do you need a ride?”
“You have to stop feeling compelled to offer me rides,” I say to him.
“It’s not on purpose,” he replies. “Dec and Cole left for the weekend. I stayed behind and the house was quiet. Too quiet, actually, which is weird because they’re usually so loud it bugs the shit out of me. Anyway, I got bored so I decided to take a drive. I saw you walking and I know you. Hell, we’re practically neighbors, so I stopped to say hi and offering a ride was the polite thing to do,” he explains.
“And you care about being polite?” I ask.
“Ouch,” he says.
“I mean, you’ve always been polite to me, but word on the street is that you are anything but,” I retort.
“I’m polite in certain situations,” he says and then looks straight ahead. “I thought we established this already.”
“We did,” I say. “I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”
“Well, do you want to get in?”
He’s bored. I’m homeless for now. “Okay.” I walk around and open the passenger door.
“Where are you headed?”
“I was going to the Coffee Bean. I saw a sign at school saying it was open,” I say.
“Oh. Are you going to meet up with that guy?” he asks, and his jaw twitches.
“Which guy?” I ask. I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“That dude that works there. The guy from the gym,” he says.
“Antonio?” I ask, surprised.
“That may be his name,” Wolfe answers, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
“He went home to his family. He’s from Ohio,” I say. “I thought I’d be able to get some work done there. My sister was called in to work today and Preston is apparently spending the day in my house. I didn’t feel comfortable with him there,” I admit.
“Shit. You need to talk to your sister.”
“I planned to this morning, but she ran out the door.” I shrug. “She won’t be around for dinner either. And, I don’t know, I kind of lost the feeling to celebrate. I just want this day to be over.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” he says as he pulls into campus.
“Why? Did something happen?”
“Nah, I was home a few days ago. I went to visit my sister. I just don’t do family things. I usu
ally spend Thanksgiving with Cole and his father, but I wasn’t in the mood this year.”
We get to the front of the Danby Building and I reach for the door handle.
“Why don’t you come back to my place? You can get work done there and maybe we can hang out or something,” he suggests.
My stomach flips and then flops. Did I hear him right? “You want me to come over?” I ask weirdly.
“There isn’t anyone home to bother us. We can just hang out,” he says.
“As friends,” I add.
“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s obvious.
I take a moment to consider what’s happening. Wolfe Judd wants to hang out with me on Thanksgiving, “Sure, okay.” I close my door and he drives off.
Butterflies swarm in my stomach at the thought of going to his place. I know his friends like to have lots of parties, but it was never my scene, and I wouldn’t be invited anyway. He pulls into the driveway and we both exit the car and I follow him up the steps.
He opens the door and I’m surprised to see that the house is pretty neat for a bachelor pad. The front entrance is basically a big family room space with a large, worn-in gray sectional couch and a couple of side tables. The television is huge and looks like it must be the latest model, and strewn over the floor are controllers for a gaming console.
“Watch your step. Dec and Cole are obsessed with playing Xbox and PS5,” he says.
“You have a nice place,” I say.
Wolfe removes his varsity jacket and then he asks me for mine. I pass it to him. “Thank you,” I say, placing my backpack back on my shoulder. Did he really mean it when he said I could get work done here?
“So, if you want to do some homework you can basically sit anywhere. The couch or kitchen table,” he offers.
“Either is fine,” I say stiffly.
“Relax, Rebel, I don’t bite.” He chuckles.
“I didn’t think you did, despite your reputation.” I smirk.
Heartless Player: A College Hockey Romance : (Westfall U Series) Page 7