“Penny for your thoughts.”
I startled at the voice and lifted my head.
Marcus Ross walked up the sidewalk, wearing one of those looks of pity I’d seen all day. I didn’t know if it was for him or me.
“Let me guess: you’re going to dip your giant football-playing hands in the fountain and pull up some loose change?” I scooted over to give him room on the bench.
“I’m a poor college student who’s not above stealing from Betsy and Blue.”
He sat down beside me, taking up more than his share of the seat. It hadn’t been that long ago that such close proximity would’ve had me finding an excuse to stand up, gain some space. But Marcus and I had hung out enough that he was on my safe list. He knew it was a club with small membership.
Marcus gave both dogs a scratch beneath their chins. “What’s going on, Harper?”
“I wish I knew.” I wish I had some explanation that made it all make sense.
“Your dad’s the last person—” His words came to a halt, and the tough athlete wiped at his eyes. “He was my hero, you know? My daddy sure wasn’t any role model. But when I met Coach O’Malley, saw how he treated us, how he loved his family, I thought, that’s the man I want to be.” He smiled and nudged me with his elbow. “’Cept not white.”
“I didn’t see it coming,” I said.
“This could be the end of his program, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” And I knew what it meant for all of us if my dad got let go. I would have to move. My dad’s coaching staff would all be fired when a new head coach picked his own staff. The team would lose their ranking. Recruits wouldn’t want to join. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
It was a cataclysmic mess.
“How’s the team?” I asked.
“Tore up. I’ve never seen so many grown boys cry since we all watched The Notebook. They don’t care what Coach did. They just want him to stay.”
“And you?”
The white mop of a dog flopped over, and Marcus rubbed his pink belly. “I love Coach, but . . . I feel betrayed.”
“That makes two of us.” I picked up the dogs’ leashes, ready to leave. “This family was my only source of normal.”
“What do you think’s gonna happen—with your parents?”
I didn’t know. Every older adopted kid knew the horror stories. Kids who were sent back when they left the cute years and turned thirteen. Kids who got unofficially rehomed when the parents divorced. If Mom and Dad split up, where would I go? Stay with my mom? Live part-time with my dad?
Or would they still want me at all?
The logical sixteen-year-old side of my brain said they’d no more give me up than they would Michael or Cole. But the nine-year-old inside worried she’d be tossed aside once again.
“What do you know about Josie Blevins?” I was afraid of Marcus’s answer, no matter if his words could fill the fountain or no more than a thimble.
“Not much. She’s a trainer. Worked on my ankle this summer. Had a fiancé, but I hear he’s left town. I guess she’s pretty banged up.”
“What hospital is she in?” Because I’d checked, and she wasn’t at St. Vincent’s, where my dad had gone.
“St. Stephen’s.” He shook his head. “Oh, no. No, you leave that lady alone.”
“I will.”
“No good can come from you talking to her.”
“Fine.”
“You gonna get in trouble, you know that? Promise me you’ll stay away from her.”
“Okay.”
“Shoot.” Marcus pushed up his drooping glasses. “That’s the same look you wore the day you said you weren’t going to kidnap that bloodhound tied up south of town. You promised you’d leave that dog alone.”
“He’s very happy with his new family.”
Marcus sighed. “One day one of your strays is gonna turn on you.”
“Every stray’s worth saving.”
“Josie Blevins is not one of your rescues. She’s a feature story on ESPN waiting to happen. Steer clear, Harper.”
I knew he was right.
But what could checking on her hurt?
Chapter Five
There is nothing like coming home to reporters set up in front of your driveway.
We lived in a gated community, but somehow a few had still gotten in. Unfamiliar vans circled the block, while I spotted at least one stranger with a camera peeking through the neighbor’s rosebush. I hoped he got a thorn lodged in his flabby keister.
Michael and I made it home at the same time. We were greeted by Mom, bearing a tray of homemade cookies. “Come in and put your bags down. I have some goodies for you.”
We followed her into the kitchen, where Cole, wearing a chocolate mustache, already sat.
“I made everyone’s favorites. We have Harper’s chocolate chip cookies, Cole’s peanut butter, and Michael’s favorite caramel brownies.” When my mom got stressed, she did two things. She baked and ran. “I also have two pies in the oven. Thought about taking those over to Mr. and Mrs. Pringle down the road.”
“I wouldn’t,” Michael said. “They’re sitting in lawn chairs watching for news trucks.”
I bit into a warm cookie as Mom poured milk. “How many miles did you run today?” I asked.
“Ten.” She handed me a frosty glass. “Why?”
Cole took a sip. “When’s Dad coming home? I want to see him.”
Mom sat down on a leather bar stool. “The hospital released him this afternoon. Or more likely, your dad forced them to.” She consulted her running watch, a marvel of a thing that could tell distance, laps, calories. But it couldn’t tell us how much longer my family would remain cracked and broken. “He called a bit ago. He’ll probably be by in an hour or so.”
I wanted to ask about his girlfriend’s status, but I knew I couldn’t in front of my little brother.
“I don’t want to go to football practice,” Cole said. “I want to see him.”
Mom folded a napkin in half, then fourths. “He, um . . . we should talk about this, okay?”
I went to the sink, squirting dish soap into the hot water.
“Harper, sit down.” Mom gestured to an empty bar stool. “Kids, your dad and I need some time apart. We felt it best if he moved out for a while.”
“But I don’t want him to!” Cole grabbed Mom’s hand and shook it, as if he could dislodge the idea from her mind. “For how long?” Each word punched with rising panic. “Just a few days?”
“We don’t know, sweetie. As long as it takes, I guess.”
Crumbs outlined Cole’s upper lip while tears streaked his ruddy face. “If that lady dies, will Dad go to jail?”
“No,” Mom said. “It was an accident. A horrible one.”
“Do we have to see him?” I wasn’t ready. I needed time to think.
“Yes. I know you’re angry, Harper, and believe me, so am I. But he’s your father. And he needs you.”
Angry? Was that what I was? “What about you?” I asked.
Mom fingered the charms on her silver necklace. All our names were engraved on discs, even Dad’s. “I need time to think without your dad around.” She reached for Cole’s hand. “We’re a tough family, right?”
I wondered if my mom would lock herself in her room again tonight and totally fall apart.
A car door shut outside, and all heads turned toward the kitchen window. “I guess your dad’s early.”
“I don’t want to see him right now.” I grabbed my milk and a handful of cookies, then stomped up the stairs, slamming my bedroom door with a house-jarring flourish. I hoped it made my dad’s cheating teeth rattle.
Flouncing on the bed, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through some emails and texts. Some from friends. Some from people I didn’t even know, asking for information or quotes for their story. One revealed there would be another press conference at the university tonight at seven. What else was there to say?
I clicked on a text from Mavis
.
Man called about dog again. Terrier not going to make it long. Assess situation,
but don’t do anything dumb. My liability don’t cover stupid.
A photo of the saddest looking dog stared back at me. It was a dog in serious need of medical attention and a steady diet of food and love. How could people be so cruel?
Animals and human beings—you couldn’t just toss them out and ignore them. This dog needed me.
When the knock finally sounded at my door, I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
I knew my dad wouldn’t leave without seeing me.
“Harper? Can I come in?” He peeked his head in before limping inside. He looked like a man who’d been in a wreck, all right. Cuts, bruises, a swollen eye, his arm still tethered with that sling. He was painful to look at, and I knew the polite thing to do was to inquire about his condition—but I was a long way from doling out niceties.
I said nothing, but continued to check my texts.
The bed sagged as he sat down beside me. Lazarus shot out from underneath my blankets and fled out the door.
Even my cat didn’t want to deal with Dad.
“I know I’ve let you down, babe.” He scratched at the thick stubble on his cheeks. “I let myself down. I made some huge mistakes, and I regret them with everything I am.”
“You regret them because you got caught.” I pulled my eyes from my phone and to his face. His bruised and battered face mirrored the condition of my heart. “You cheated on Mom.” I had thought he was different. Better. “Why, Dad?” My voice broke, tears choking out the syllables. “How could you just . . . walk away from us?”
“Harper—” He reached out, and I moved away as if he were coming at me with a fist instead of a gentle touch. “I know you don’t like me very much right now.” He swallowed, let out a breath. “I can’t stand myself.”
“Mom said she needed some time away from you.” The heat filtered through the vent in my ceiling, yet I was chilled to the core. “I do too.”
“Okay,” he said. “If that’s what you want. But I’m not staying away forever. I love you.”
Words. They were the three words I hadn’t heard until I’d come to this family. Now they were sour notes in my ears. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
He chewed on his bloated lip. “I’m renting a house near the campus. I came to get some stuff. I’ll pick up the rest when you guys are gone tomorrow. I need you to be there for Cole, okay? He’s upset and confused.”
“Who isn’t?”
Dad’s nostrils flared as he breathed deep. “There’s something else, and I wanted you to hear it from me first. Tonight they’re going to announce that the athletic director has put me on paid leave. Indefinitely. I know all sorts of things have been on the news, but it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
“And you want me to keep my mouth shut. I got it.”
“Just be careful who you talk to. The press are circling like vultures, and they’ll come after you or anyone you know to get information.”
If this had been Mavis, I’d have snapped, Yeah? Because you really set the bar for discretion. But it was my father, so I kept my mouth closed.
“There’s going to be an investigation by the college. To determine if I violated my contract. ESPN, Fox Sports, they’re all over it. I hate this for you guys. I wish . . . I wish things could be different.”
I traced the pattern of my white quilt with my finger. “Do you love her?”
Dad paused too long. “It’s complicated.”
“I think you need to go.”
“Babe, I know you’re hurting, but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
All I could do was nod. My throat thickened and my eyes burned. In that moment I couldn’t stand him or the disaster he had brought to us.
“I know you want time, but please don’t shut me out. I—”
“John, it’s time to go.” Mom stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. “The kids have had enough.”
Dad rose and ran his hand over my hair. Like old times.
But things were different. I didn’t know this man.
“I love you, sweet girl. I love all of you. You guys mean so much to—”
“John.” Mom’s one word, fired like a bullet, pierced the fog of tension that hung over us.
Dad stood beside my bed for a few seconds that seemed all too still and unbearable, like when the world turns green and quiet before the tornado touches down and tears down everything in its path.
Then he finally walked away, his head dipped low. “Good-bye.”
* * *
I awoke with a start, my strangled cry piercing the air, my sweat soaking through my Hogwarts T-shirt.
Pushing my damp hair away from my cheek, I looked around my room. I was home. I was safe. Wasn’t I? Somehow the house didn’t feel as secure without Dad here. Yet another thing to blame him for. Before I’d gone to bed, I’d triple-checked the locks on all the doors and windows.
We were safely locked down, and yet my nightmare had still returned.
When I’d closed my eyes, I’d gone right back to that filthy apartment. Heard the yelling. The anger. Felt that uncertainty of never knowing when the slapping and hitting would start. When the food would stop. I’d gone back to when my insistence on long sleeves had begun.
I flicked on my lamp. The way I saw it, at one in the morning, a girl had two options: stay in bed and count her woes while eating chocolate chip cookies from the stash in her bedside drawer, or sneak out and go rescue herself a dog.
Mom had shut herself in her downstairs bedroom hours ago. But I knew she couldn’t be asleep.
My dad’s words replayed in my ear.
“This animal stealing career of yours is over.”
Who was he to tell me what to do? Like his judgment could be trusted.
I was done listening to that man.
The night air waved over my face, and I inhaled it as I pushed up my window. The stars glittered above, just doing their thing, as if the universe hadn’t completely shifted, as if the earth hadn’t flipped.
After changing into black yoga pants and a black hoodie, and throwing my hair into a ponytail, I turned off our security system with my phone and stuffed the device in my bra. Lord knows my boobs didn’t need all that room in there. I could’ve used the back door, but it was too close to my parents’ bedroom. So out the window I’d go.
In sixty seconds, I had detached the screen and climbed over the sill, setting my feet onto the barely slanted roof of the covered porch below. My feet dug into the shingles, and I gingerly walked down, stopping at the edge. This was not my first time to escape the second story, but tonight it all felt different. My everything felt different.
Hanging onto the ledge, I threw my legs down and . . .
The patio table wasn’t there.
The one I had specifically moved that afternoon.
My fingers burned, cramped.
Crap!
My feet dangled, my hands grew slick.
How would my mom feel finding my body in a broken heap in the morning?
I couldn’t hold on much longer.
Felt myself slipping.
With no help in sight.
And then I heard that deep voice.
“Going somewhere, Miss O’Malley?”
Chapter Six
My body jolted with shock at the voice, and my grip loosened.
Slipping.
Falling.
Stars exploded in my head as I collided into one strong chest. Connected to two waiting arms.
My body collapsed into him, and he held on tight.
I lifted my head.
And even in the dark, I could make out his form, his face.
Ridley Estes.
“You.” I wiggled to be released, but his grip locked around me.
“I think the words you’re looking for are thank you.”
“What are you doing here, Ridley?”
�
�Saving a girl from dashing her brains out on the patio.”
“Besides that.” I snaked out of his arms, landed on my two feet, then stumbled on a rock. The corners of his lips lifted as his arms reached out to steady me again.
“Why are you at my house?”
His hands slid down my arms as he released me, his voice a low whisper. “I tried the front door, but no one answered.”
“That usually means the people inside don’t want to be bothered.” I couldn’t deal with this tonight. I seriously couldn’t.
“I’ve been trying to call your dad,” Ridley said. “I’ve emailed him a million times. He won’t respond.”
“I’m sure he’s busy.” I tried to step around him, but Ridley blocked my way.
“I’ve got to talk to him.” That ever-present cockiness evaporated. “The athletic director rescinded your dad’s offer letter today. Said I had been too big of a risk all along. My whole future depends on this. You have to get me a meeting with your dad. Your brother said he won’t talk to him for me.”
“Neither will I.”
He stilled. Took a deep breath. I could see the hints of his features in the glow of the distant solar lights that outlined the backyard. His desperation was a scent that mingled with my mom’s nearby rosebushes.
“I can’t do anything for you. And I’ve got to go.”
“Please, Heather.”
“Seriously?” I hissed. “It’s Harper. My name is Harper.”
“I knew that.”
I shoved past Ridley and just started walking.
I didn’t get two steps before he flanked my side. “Just a short meeting with him. A phone call. An email. A text. Anything.”
“My dad’s currently suspended. He can’t do anything for you, and he’s not even here. Not to mention, this is not my problem.”
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