I'll Be Yours

by Jenny B. Jones

  I turned and lifted my hair, and Andrew placed the necklace around my neck. When he was finished, a piece of him rested against my collarbone.

  It was time to be Andrew Levin’s girlfriend.

  And that meant letting Ridley Estes go.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “I’m about to disobey you.”

  Dad looked up from his computer in his office, then spun in his leather rolling chair to face me. “What?”

  “I’m going to the university. Mom banned me from campus, so instead of sneaking out, I thought I would just . . . tell you.”

  He wore his black-rimmed glasses, the ones that were rarely caught on camera but made him look more like a professor than a dethroned coach. “It must be important.”

  “I’m not going to steal a dog or do anything illegal. You have my word.”

  “If I let you go, your mom will kill me. You just made me an accomplice.”

  “A normal teenager would’ve just bolted. I don’t know why I can’t get this adolescence stuff right.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “I need to see the team.”

  “Emergency tutoring session?”

  No, this time I needed their help. “I’ll explain later. Can you just trust me on this?”

  “Do you think one day you’ll be able to extend the same courtesy to me?”

  “Give you permission to ignore your grounding instead of sneaking out your window?”

  Dad didn’t smile. He stood, his face grave and tired. “Do you think you can put your trust in me again? Believe me when I say no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere? Maybe take me at my word when I tell you this family is all I want?”

  “I’m trying.”

  He slowly nodded. “It’s a good start.” Dad hugged me with his good side, and for the first time in weeks, I didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry, sis.” These were the arms that had held me after nightmares, made pancakes on lazy Saturdays, grabbed the steering wheel when he’d taught me to drive. I would break in two if that was all truly over.

  “I know.”

  Dad consulted his watch. “It’s already eight. Can you be back in a few hours?”

  “I hope so.”

  I blinked past the dampness in my eyes. “Dad, last week you asked me if there was anything you could do.”

  “Yes?”

  “If you have any friends left on the Eagles coaching staff, I want you to get one to next Friday’s game at Washington.”

  “Is Ridley no longer suspended?”

  “He won’t be after tonight.”

  * * *

  If the animal rescue was my second home, the University of Southern Kentucky was next in line. The glass doors of the athletic dorm posted fliers for concerts and university events, and one lonely ad requesting a study group for trig.

  “I’m not done talking!” Marcus Ross called as I stepped inside. Five of his teammates simultaneously grabbed slices of pizza and lifted their hulking bodies from cushy seats.

  “Dude, we said we’d watch CNN with you tonight, and we did,” Dominic Vago said. “We don’t want to have a discussion on foreign policy.”

  Marcus tried again. “Nuclear disarmament?”

  DeShawn took a bite of pepperoni. “Turn it to SportsCenter.”

  “Is it so wrong to want to connect with global events?” Marcus threw Dominic the remote. “To want to share our thoughts on the wars gripping our planet?”

  Dominic changed the channel. “Pretty much.”

  I cleared my throat, and fifteen intimidating heads turned my way. “Hey, guys.”

  The boys leaped over couches, knocking carryout boxes to the floor as they welcomed me back.

  “Harper!”

  “I’m flunking accounting. Marry me now.”

  “Girl, we need you like protein shakes.”

  “You dating that stupid boy?”

  “You pretty as a bowl ring.”

  “You got cookies in that bag?”

  I was high-fived and fist-bumped ’til my hand shined red. These boys were my family. Their stories were so intertwined with mine, from those of us who shared hard beginnings, to now—when our futures were filled with cloudy uncertainty because of the actions of Coach John O’Malley.

  “I need a favor,” I said.

  “You want to do my Spanish homework?” Tyler Nicholson asked. “I’ll let you do that.”

  “What is it?” Marcus stood in front, ready to pick up his sword for the old friends we had become.

  “Name it,” said DeShawn.

  “You’re our girl.” Dominic pounded his fist to his heart. “You tell us what you want.”

  “I wondered if a few of you would follow me to Sedalia Springs.” I had the attention of every player in the room. “I’d like to have a chat with a man named Dwayne.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The Delmar Apartments were known for three things: roaches, drug busts, and a cast of characters that kept the nightly news hopping and the county jail full.

  Dwayne lived in Sedalia Springs, an old railroad town about thirty minutes outside of Maple Grove. It was an armpit of a city, and aside from a few restaurants, there was nothing to redeem it.

  Including Dwayne Woods.

  His door was not illuminated by a porch light, and when I stood on his step, it reeked of must, decay, and whatever depravity held inside.

  My hand pounded on the paint-scarred wooden door.

  No answer, but the TV shone through the window, and I heard motion inside.

  I knocked again. Harder.

  A shirtless Dwayne flung open the door, a beer dangling from his fist. “What?”

  “My name is Harper O’Malley and—”

  “I don’t care who you are. Go away.”

  Charming specimen of mankind. “I’ve come to ask you to drop the charges against Ridley Estes.”

  His hoarse chortle revealed a stunning lack of dental hygiene. “That kid’s finally gonna get what’s coming to him. He think he can push me around, tell me what to do? I hope they lock him up forever.”

  It was hard to ignore the way Dwayne’s leer traveled over my form. “Mr. Woods, I really think it would be in your best interest to reconsider.”

  He took a long, noisy draw from his beer, then wiped a hairy arm across his mouth. This man was a ghost from my past—different name, different face. But I knew him well. It was everything I could do to stand there under his chilling scrutiny, the creepiness he wore like a cheap aftershave.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, little girl. But unless you want to come in and talk about this further, you best get off my porch.”

  He took a drunken lurch toward me, but Marcus appeared, placing himself between me and Dwayne. “The lady said you need to drop the charges.”

  A sober man would take one glance at Marcus and know he needed to back down. My intellectual friend could turn on the mean like a switch. But Dwayne possessed neither smarts nor a respectable blood alcohol level.

  “I ain’t afraid of you.” Dwayne gave Marcus a little shove.

  “I didn’t expect you would be.” Marcus pushed up the sleeves of his Eagles sweatshirt. “That’s why I brought some friends.”

  Three wide receivers and two quarterbacks flanked us in battle formation.

  “You think you can intimidate me?” Dwayne yelled. “I got rights!”

  “I’m pre-law,” Dominic said, taking Dwayne’s beer and tossing it to the ground. “I’d be glad to review those rights with you.”

  Six more Eagles stepped into the yard, game faces firmly in place.

  “We’d like to escort you to the sheriff’s office where you can drop the charges,” Marcus said.

  “No.” Dwayne shook his head like a fool choosing to walk the plank.

  “My friends and I do not like that answer,” Tyler said. “And when I say friends, I mean the entire defensive line.”

  Soon I was surrounded by men.

  And I’d never
felt safer.

  “Mr. Woods, you have two choices.” I punched some bravado into my voice. Because I, too, was an Eagle. “You can either let these guys give you a ride so you can do the right thing, and leave Ridley Estes and his family alone forever. Or you can finish up your party with my friends.”

  Marcus threw an arm around my shoulders. “Your family.”

  Tyler cracked the knuckles on both hands and gave me a wink. “Your brothers.”

  Dwayne tried to slam the door shut, but it was no use for the brute squad.

  Tyler grinned as he reached in and grabbed Dwayne by the shoulders, lifting him ’til his socked feet dangled. “What do you want me to do with him, Harper?”

  “Remember what you did to that Aggie right tackle last fall?”

  “That was pretty bloody.”

  “The quarterback for the Razorbacks?”

  He grimaced and tightened his hold. “Dislocation involves a lot of screaming.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Let’s combine the two.”

  “No!” Dwayne kicked his feet and flailed as best he could in Tyler’s iron grip. “Let me go.”

  “Desmond and Marcus are still upset over last week’s loss,” I said. “Got lots of energy to burn.”

  “Okay!” Dwayne spat. “I’ll do it. I’ll let your sissy boyfriend off. But—”

  “No butts,” Marcus said. “You drop the charges, and we walk away. But if we ever hear of you messing with Ridley or Harper, we come and find you.” Tyler released his hold, and Dwayne fell into a pathetic heap. “And when we do, that’s a game we won’t lose. Are we clear?”

  “Yes.” Dwayne didn’t bother picking himself up. “I’ll drop the charges.”

  “Consider this taken care of,” Tyler said to me. And I knew they would see it through.

  While the boys went over some of the finer points of how the rest of the evening would go down, Marcus and I slipped away from the crowd, and he walked me back to my car.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Don’t thank us yet. The real challenge is gonna be getting out of here without letting Dominic throw at least one punch.”

  I smiled at my friend. “Just don’t leave evidence.”

  He opened my car door. “We meant what we said. We’re your family. And real family sticks together no matter what.”

  “I know the athletic director is on you guys to avoid trouble at all costs, so I appreciate that you’d do this for me.”

  “Harper,” Marcus said in his big brother voice, “when it comes to the people we love, the right thing is always worth the risk.”

  * * *

  Dealing with Dwayne Woods was a cakewalk compared to where I headed next.

  After driving by Ridley’s house and seeing his car gone, I drove up to Blue Mountain Lodge. It was after ten, and once again, the restaurant was shutting down. Luckily I found Ridley’s Uncle Tim bussing a table.

  “Is Ridley here?” I asked.

  “He’s on break. Out on the terrace.”

  I thanked the man, then found the nearest exit that would let me outside.

  Ridley sat at a table, alone in the dark. Hunched over a keyboard and a novel, he worked by the light of the laptop, taking warmth from the gas heater that hummed next to him. He was the most handsome boy I’d ever laid eyes on. Who’d have ever thought that beneath that tough, devil-may-care exterior, beat the heart of a brother who’d sacrifice it all to take care of his family? He’d changed this scarred girl’s life forever. But even if I dated bad boys, I was way beneath him on the social food chain. And we both knew it. I would be nothing more than a brief diversion for him. And he’d be devastation for me.

  “Hello, Ridley.”

  He jerked at the intrusion, his cautious eyes widening in surprise. “Harper. Is something wrong?”

  “No.” I figured everything was close to being as right as I could make it. “Doing some homework?”

  He lifted the book 1984. “Have you read the ending?”

  I nodded.

  He thumped it with his fingers. “That’s not right.”

  Endings rarely were. “I came to talk to you.”

  He stood, and I took a step back when he moved to touch me. “I’m ending our arrangement, Ridley.” It was out. I’d said it. “I’ve found a friend from the university who’s agreed to help you with the last few weeks of your class. She’ll—”

  “No. We had a deal.”

  “I can’t keep doing whatever it is this is becoming. I’m with Andrew now, and it’s not fair to him.”

  “You make it sound like we’re just messing around.”

  “Aren’t we?”

  “It could be more.”

  “It’s not what I want.” He was so close, and it almost hurt not to have his hands on me.

  “You’re lying.”

  “I don’t think so. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and—”

  “Don’t do that.” His words punched holes in my forced bravado. “Do not thank me for—”

  “For what? What do you want to call what we have?”

  “I didn’t expect to fall for you,” he said. “It was the last thing I saw coming. But it’s there, and you can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

  I told my heart we couldn’t have this, couldn’t give into the emotional land mine that dating Ridley would be. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Right, for the sake of your plan. God forbid you veer from your carefully constructed plan, this safe house you’ve built for yourself. I’m sorry I don’t fit your idea of what a boyfriend should be.”

  “Don’t talk to me about deviating from a plan. Like you’re not running away from your entire future right now? Maybe you’re using your sisters as an excuse. Maybe you’re afraid, deep down, that you’re not good enough. We both know what it’s like to hear that from people who are supposed to love us. It worms into your head, and you think you can’t dig it out, but you can. Ridley, you have to go to college. You were born to play football.”

  “You want to go home to my sisters, tuck them in, kiss their cheeks, then tell them you’re going away forever?” The breeze was no match for the steel resolve in his voice. “Whisper you love them, then tell them they have to move in with total strangers? Or live apart?”

  “You’re sacrificing your life to be a hero. It’s still not enough. When are you going to see that you can’t give your sisters all they need? They need parents, Ridley. And you’re not it.”

  “They’re fine with me. They have everything they could want.”

  “And ten years from now when you’re working some hourly gig at the hotel because you threw it all away, will that be all they could want? How are they going to feel when they’re old enough to realize you sacrificed your entire life for them?”

  “I can go to college later.”

  “Or you could get help now.”

  “You have no idea what you’re asking. I will never walk away from them.”

  “No one’s asking you to! There are colleges out there begging for you to come play for them. You will never have this chance again. How can you just throw that away?”

  “Without me, Emmie and Faith go into the system.”

  “You’re in total denial. It doesn’t have to be like this—”

  “Does it sound simple, Harper? Brave talk coming from you. Why don’t we discuss your life? Let’s count all the ways you’re so brave. You’re running away from dealing with your dad because you don’t know where he fits in your black-and-white little world anymore.”

  “I’m working on that.”

  “And when are you going to make your decision?”

  “When I can trust him again.”

  “So two years, five years, ten? Until then you’ll ignore him and pretend like the last seven years he poured into you didn’t matter? He’s just this conditional dad you can toss away when he screws up?”

  “Screws up? He wrecked my family.” He wrecked me.

  “Do you
have any idea what I’d give to have a dad? Someone to love me and my sisters? To help me and take care of my mom? Your dad is crazy about you. He messed up, Harper. But he’s desperate for a relationship with you. Unlike your biological mom, unlike my mom, Coach O’Malley wants the job of parent.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “And let’s not forget about the issue of Andrew.”

  “Leave him out of this.”

  “You feel nothing for him.”

  “That’s not true. I wouldn’t have humiliated myself by coming to you for advice if I hadn’t wanted to be with him.”

  Ridley shook his dark head, his eyes alight with fire. “He’s just a prop. Someone you wish you liked. Because he’s perfect, after all. He’s safe, isn’t he, Harper? He’s a nice, middle-class white boy who marches in the band, makes good grades, and says all the right things.”

  “Oh, when you put it that way, he sounds positively awful. What was I thinking?”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re thinking. That he’s too nice to ever hurt you. That his record’s too clean to ever let you down. He’s the idea of what you thought you wanted. But now that you’ve got him, he bores you.”

  “Kind of like this conversation?”

  “He doesn’t make you feel a thing, does he?”

  “Andrew is kind and gentle, and he—”

  “When he kisses you, does it make you feel like you can’t get enough? Do you forget your own name and where you are? Do you count the hours ’til you see him again, until you can be with him? Does he consume your thoughts until nothing’s left in your head?”

  No, Andrew did not. “Are you suggesting that you’re the answer?”

  “You tell me.”

  “You don’t want a serious relationship with me.”

  “I can’t stand to see you with him.”

  “If you think that’s jealousy you’re feeling, you’re mistaken. You’re just upset because I’m the only girl who hasn’t thrown myself at you. All you’ve ever done is win—football, girls. And then I came along and became some game to you.”

  His jaw tightened and those brown eyes narrowed to slits. “You have no idea what you are to me.”