Holding on to Forever

by Davis, Siobhan

  Because if he gets to me again, I understand this time I won’t come out of it alive.

  25

  Adam

  I toss and turn, pounding my fist into my pillow while Sam sleeps soundly. Kicking the covers off, I pluck my phone from the desk near my bed, squinting at it with sleep-deprived eyes.

  Three a.m.

  Can’t sleep.

  Can’t shake off Emily and our epic fight earlier. I’m still pissed. She thought she could flash her big blue eyes and bat her long lashes at me and I would give her Molly, especially after her old man went for me. We’ve never traded such harsh words, but I was livid, and the fact she only wanted drugs fueled the anger flowing through my veins. Don’t get me wrong. A part of me wanted to bundle her into my arms and protect her from her demons, but the anger won out. I don’t know what made her fall off the wagon, and it’s driving me insane. For hours, I’ve been replaying the times we spent together, searching for clues.

  Nothing weird, odd, or out of the ordinary jumps out at me. One day, she’s flying high and we’re confessing our love for each other, and the next, she’s nowhere to be found.

  I just don’t understand it.

  I let out an audible breath as I open the screen on my phone. Phoebe’s picture greets me, and some of the tension in my shoulders loosens. I don’t care how bad my day gets; I can always count on my sister to put a smile on my face. Even now looking at her pic. Her brown hair is up in a ponytail, and she’s beaming from ear to ear, holding the very first jewelry kit Mom bought for her.

  I swallow thickly. Mom won’t be happy when she finds out I was kicked off the team, which means my scholarship is toast. Somehow, I have to plead with Coach and get back in his good graces. I might have fucked up my NFL dream, but I have to find a way to stay in school, and without the money to pay the expensive tuition, I need to do everything I can to keep my scholarship. The amount I made working for Ray won’t even put a dent in the tuition. Besides, I need to keep that for Phoebe.

  Sam is snoring steadily when a soft knock sounds on our door.

  I pinch my eyebrows together. The only person I can think of who would be here at this hour of the night is Emily. Anger and frustration bubbles to the surface. She’s relentless.

  I crawl out of bed and quietly open the door a crack. The last time I answered, Coach shoved his fist in my face. As desperate as Emily is for Molly, I’m sure she’ll try anything to get what she wants. Like kneeing me in the balls.

  “Adam,” Coach whispers, and I detect the panic in his tone.

  I give him a wide berth as he steps in, searching the room as though he knew Emily would be here. When he doesn’t find her, it’s not relief but straight-up fear that shows on his face.

  Suddenly, my radar is up, and stress cords the muscles in my shoulders into tight knots. “She’s not here.” I rub the back of my neck. “What’s wrong?”

  Bowing his head, he drags his fingers through his reddish-brown hair as he sits on my bed. Defeat oozes off him. “Emily didn’t come home tonight. I thought she’d be with you.”

  I flick the switch, and the overhead light comes on. I squint for a moment as my eyes adjust.

  Coach glances at Sam, but the dude isn’t even stirring. He sleeps like the dead anyway.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “We broke up. I’m sure Emily is with her friend Scarlett or Zach.” Ten to one, she’s passed out with them. My muscles tense further at the thought she’s anywhere near Zach. I can’t contemplate what they might be doing if they are together. My fingers dig into my palms.

  “They’re next on my list.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw, worry etched across his face. “I’m worried. As much as I don’t want her near you, I was praying she was asleep here. It’s why I came to your dorm first.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I need to find her before she does something stupid.”

  He just sucker punched me with his words.

  He emits a tired sigh. “I didn’t even get a chance to speak to her earlier. After I overheard her talking to you on the phone, I saw red. I should’ve stayed and talked to her. Instead, I charged over here to confront you. When I returned to the house, she was gone. And I haven’t seen her since. What happened, Adam? She seemed to be doing so well.”

  He eavesdropped on our phone conversation? Fuck.

  I feel like a legit piece of shit. I didn’t even consider the possibility Emily hadn’t blabbed to her father. I jumped to conclusions, and now, I feel like a complete bastard. And, because I was so angry, I didn’t stop to consider she’s in trouble. Why else would she go off the rails? Something happened to send her spiraling. Instead of coaxing it from her, I pushed her away.

  I couldn’t hate myself more in this moment if I tried.

  Self-loathing is a bitter pill, but I force it aside, needing to keep calm in the face of her absence.

  “Sir, you tell me. She wasn’t high once when she was with me. Then a few days before our away game, something changed. I’ve been wracking my brain like a crazy man.” I rub a tense spot between my brows. “I have no clue what happened to her.” It can’t be Weston Blakely because he’s in jail. “Did something happen at home?” I know her mother doesn’t care about her. Maybe, they got into a fight and her mom drove her over the edge.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but I was gone all weekend. Her mother is usually busy with work, but I can’t seem to get ahold of her either.” His brow furrows deeper.

  As frustrated as I am at Emily, I’m starting to freak out. We had our fight hours ago. “Let me put some clothes on. I know a place she might be.”

  He jerks his head up, and a small amount of relief shines in his eyes.

  After I leave Sam a note, Coach and I drive to the warehouse where I first met Emily.

  “Where are we going?” Coach asks from the passenger seat.

  I wanted to take my truck. As distraught as he seems, I didn’t want him driving although I’m a little on edge too. I feel like a schmuck, accusing Emily of ratting me out to her old man.

  “A rave.” It’s early Monday morning. I’m not sure if the party has broken up. I was usually there at around one in the morning, not three, when I was selling drugs. For all I know, the place is shut down.

  “Is this rave where you sold drugs?” he asks in an even tone.

  I zip through the deserted streets, stopping at lights and passing homeless sifting through the city’s trashcans.

  “It’s one of the places,” I tell him. “Coach, I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t going to help Emily, son.” He doesn’t yell, but he sounds like he’s already lost his daughter.

  And my stomach knots into one big ball.

  “Why did you do it, Miller?”

  “I needed the money.”

  “If you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?”

  “I can’t burden you with my problems. They’re my problems. Not yours.”

  “I’m assuming you met Emily through the drug scene. How long has she been doing drugs?”

  I puff out my cheeks, releasing some nervous energy. Honestly, I can’t give him a straight answer. When I met her, she was using. Still, it isn’t my place to tell him.

  “Coach, I want you to know you’ve been like a father to me. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.” I pause to collect my thoughts, glancing briefly at him.

  His lips are pinched, and his focus is on the road like he’s the one driving.

  “I fucked up. I know you’re upset with me more about drugs than losing the football game. But please hear me out.” I don’t want to open up if he isn’t going to listen.

  “I’m all ears.”

  I launch into the same story I told Sam about my past and what led me to return to selling drugs again. By the time we’re a block from the warehouse, Coach is up to speed on my entire life.

  “I get you want to support your family,” Coach says. “But the drug business isn’t the way to do that.”

  I did what
I had to do for Mom and Phoebe, but I’m not about to argue the point. “One more thing.”

  “There’s more?” His eyes open wide.

  My pulse quickens. “I love your daughter, sir. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she stole my breath away. I did everything I could to get her to stop. And she did. She was happy.” I bite down on my lip as we approach the warehouse. “We both were.”

  I park across the street, watching a couple stumbling out of the warehouse, but it’s not Emily or Zach or even Scarlett.

  Coach climbs out of the truck, stalking over to the couple. I rush to catch up with him. I doubt he wants to see the scene inside even if Emily isn’t here.

  I cover my nose as we enter, almost heaving up the contents of my stomach. The place reeks of sweat, sex, and piss.

  Coach’s head swivels around in slow motion. “For fuck’s sake.” He scowls as he drinks in the scene.

  A couple to our right is on a dirty couch fucking like dogs in heat, panting and moaning, uncaring who sees. The girl has her head thrown back, and her black sweaty hair is stuck to her face.

  Coach stiffens, shaking his head sadly as he looks around. “I’ve failed my daughter.”

  It hurts me to see the pain on Coach’s face.

  He walks around, with that same sad look on his face, pushing people out of the way, as he searches for Emily. It isn’t hard either. Everyone is strung out and too wasted to care.

  The lights flash on and off, a sign that it’s time to stop fucking and groping and go home.

  “Surely, no one is driving,” Coach says under his breath.

  Not sure how these people get home. And right now, I’m not concerned about them. I catch a glimpse of a girl with hair like Emily’s in the far corner where I know Zach likes to hang out.

  “Coach, I’ll be right back.” I don’t wait for him to answer as I rush in that direction.

  If Emily is here and she’s fucking Zach, it will gut my insides out. But my bigger worry is I don’t want Coach to find Emily in that kind of situation.

  It’s clear he’s about to lose his shit. Not only that, I want to be the first to throttle Zach if I catch him fucking her. I might just throttle him anyway.

  But Zach’s hangout is empty, and the girl with the strawberry-blonde hair isn’t Emily.

  Coach meets me in the middle of the warehouse, shaking his head. Relief floods my veins that we didn’t find Emily anywhere in the joint. But it’s short-lived, because it means she’s out there somewhere, and we’re running out of options.

  Fear as bright as the runway lights on an airport landing strip glistens in his eyes, and his helplessness is palpable. His phone rings, and we trade worried looks.

  I hold my breath as he answers.

  “What?” he snaps at his caller. “Where are you? Is Emily home?” There’s a pregnant pause. “Then check her room,” he shouts.

  I flick my head at the exit. We should get out of here.

  “Fuck,” Coach barks in the phone. “She’s missing. Well, if you weren’t so busy with work shit, then you might notice your daughter is under a lot of stress. Did you piss her off?”

  I can’t hear anything President Parker is saying, but that fear on Coach morphs into rage.

  “Give me Zach McCartney’s address.” Coach’s jaw is stone.

  By the time we get to my truck, he’s punching in Zach’s address on his navigation app. “Let’s try Zach’s next.” He squirms uncomfortably on the seat. “They seem close, or they were at one time.”

  Nausea swims up my throat, but at this stage, I’d be happy if she was there. Once she’s okay. I can deal with my emotions after. All that matters now is finding her.

  We’re halfway to Zach’s when Coach’s phone rings again. “Did she come home? Is she okay?” he immediately demands. “What?!” He roars. “Oh, fuck, no.” Tears sting his eyes, and I damn near stop breathing. “Is she…” His shoulders collapse in relief. “Thank God.” He lets a shuddering breath loose. “Okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Coach throws his phone on the dash, the sound exploding in the small space.

  He casts a pained look at me, and I stop breathing again. My foot slips off the pedal, and the truck swerves a little. Coach urges me to get a grip with his eyes, and I swallow back bile, clutching the wheel tight as I straighten the truck and beg my errant pulse to calm down. I don’t know anything yet and I’m already panicking.

  “Where to?” I choke out.

  “Cypress Memorial, son, and step on it.”

  I whip my head at him, not seeing the stop sign up ahead.

  “Adam! Pay attention.”

  I slam on the brakes, and the truck screeches to a painful halt. We’re both thrown forward, but our seat belts do their job.

  “What happened?” I’m trying like a motherfucker to stay calm. But my heart has other ideas, attempting to break free of my body. “Is Emily okay?”

  “She overdosed.” Coach’s tone is crestfallen. “But she’s still alive.”

  Motherfucker.

  I gun the gas since the streets are desolate, but I’m barely holding it together. If she doesn’t pull through, I will never forgive myself for how I handled things with her last night. There are so many different ways it could’ve gone down. I should’ve done more to help her instead of pushing her into Molly’s arms.

  The lights in the emergency room are burning my eyes as I storm in behind Coach fifteen minutes later or maybe it was five. Time has escaped me. How I got us here in one piece is beyond me.

  And I’d been worried about Coach driving.

  Coach rushes up to the information counter while I pace near the double doors. I squeeze my eyes shut and grab the back of my head with both hands.

  Please. Please. Let Emily be okay.

  Heels click on the tile floor, drawing my eyes up and down the hall.

  President Parker surveys me as she approaches, her brows knitting together. “What are you doing here, Mr. Miller?” she asks in her usual professional-slash-condescending tone. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  I refrain from an eye roll. Word on campus is she’s a bitch to deal with. I haven’t had the pleasure to be summoned to her office, but two guys in my dorm have. Both got their asses chewed. She threatened to revoke their scholarships if they got out of line again and pulled any other pranks on the admin building. Apparently, they TP’d the trees in front of her office, and she was not a happy camper.

  “How’s Emily?” I ask as Coach sidles up to me.

  She regards me with ice-blue eyes. “She’s none of your business.”

  “Cut the crap, Carole,” Coach says. “Adam is her boyfriend. He’s every right to be here.”

  My jaw hangs in a similar fashion to President Parker, but this isn’t the time to decode Coach’s feelings on my relationship. If we still have one, because we basically broke up last night.

  “Now tell me about my daughter,” Coach adds. “How is she?”

  She loses her scowl for a split second. “She’s in a coma.”

  Her voice is flat, and her tone contains no feeling whatsoever. Emily was right. She is a cold bitch. I would never hurt a lady, but every fiber in me wants to strangle President Parker until she’s turned blue. The woman needs to be committed. “Do you not give a shit about your daughter?” I know the answer. I want to hear her say it though. “How can you stand there like a robot and tell us that?” I grab fistfuls of my hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I shout.

  “Get some air, son,” Coach suggests, clamping a hand on my shoulder.

  Gladly. I walk away, seething, unable to breathe. But I don’t go outside, because I want to stay close in case anything happens, so I head to the waiting room. The minute I drop down in a chair in the almost deserted room, my hands start to shake. I hang my head. Going over it all again. Beating myself up like I deserve. I could’ve helped her. I could’ve convinced her to tell me what was bothering her. I handled her and the situation all wrong.

  I
don’t know how long I sit there, arguing with myself and praying for Emily, but by the time Coach appears, I’m stiff, tense, and distraught. I’ve chewed my nails down to nubs.

  He takes a seat in the chair next to me, placing his hand on my back. “She’s in a coma, but her vitals are stable,” he says as though he didn’t believe his wife when she told us.

  Tears prick my eyes. “I shouldn’t have pushed her away.”

  “Son,” Coach’s voice is calming, a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor. “I can see you love my daughter. And as much as I want to blame you, I can’t. Emily has always had a self-destruct button.”

  “She was getting better,” I mumble.

  “I had noticed,” he says.

  “I should have done more.”

  “You tried, which is more than can be said for me and my wife.”

  Shock splays across my face.

  “It’s the truth. We failed her again.” He closes his eyes momentarily. “Look, we’ve a lot to discuss. I’m not saying you’re out of the woods with me yet, but I misjudged you last night.” He sighs heavily. “Emily needs you. Hell, I need you. I don’t want to lose my QB. We still have games to play, and the team needs you on that field. For now, let’s just hope and pray Emily comes out of this.”

  I appreciate his words, but football doesn’t matter.

  Emily does.

  26

  Emily

  My mouth is parched as I slowly come to. I blink my eyes open, wincing as a bright light hits my retinas like a punch to the face. My eyes close, and my body is like a dead weight as I attempt to move my arms.

  “Emily!” Dad’s gruff voice tickles my eardrums, and I force my heavy eyelids to open.