Getting Played

by Mia Storm

  The skin around her eyes tightens. “I really came with Caiden because I needed to talk to you.” She lowers her gaze to her lap. “It took me a long time to come to terms with everything that happened with Nate the summer Caiden was in jail,” she says, and a chill fingers up my spine. “I didn’t even tell Caiden until a few months ago.”

  Everything inside me seizes, because in this instant, I know every suspicion I had about Nate was right. I brace myself for the truth. “Tell Caiden what?”

  Her gaze finds mine again. We both have Mom’s whiskey-colored eyes, and we’ve always been able to see deeper into each other than anyone else, as if we’re staring into a mirror.

  “He raped me graduation night,” she says, holding my gaze. “I couldn’t even admit it to myself at first…that he would do that to me. And then I convinced myself he didn’t mean it.” She lets out a wounded laugh. “My therapist says the mind will do all kinds of things to protect itself from trauma. She says my coping mechanism was unusual, but not unheard of.”

  My heart is pounding and my palms are slick with cold sweat as I struggle to process everything she’s saying. “He raped you before you started dating?”

  Her face collapses into a cringe as she nods.

  There’s a second that time freezes and all I can do is stare at my sister. When the room starts spinning, I realize I’m not breathing and force air into my lungs.

  “He raped you,” I repeat, trying to process what I’m hearing.

  I’ve always known there was more to what happened with them than she told me. I knew he’d gotten into her head somehow, because she wasn’t herself during the time they were together.

  “Why did you stay with him?” I ask, all the frustration and helplessness I felt then rising to the surface again. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

  She shakes her head as a tear courses down her face. “You were the one person I couldn’t go to.”

  Blood boils under my skin at the thought. We were all each other had for so long, but I was so angry about Caiden that I distanced myself from her when she needed me most. She was afraid to come to me. So she turned to Nate, even after he raped her.

  “Jesus,” I say, dropping my face into my palms.

  She presses her shoulder against mine. “I never even would have been able to talk about it like this if it weren’t for Caiden finding me help. He found a rape crisis support group that we went to together for a few months, and I just started with the therapist in July. I can’t change any of it now, but Detective Diaz says the statute of limitations isn’t up on what he did to me. I’ve reported him. She says it might be hard to prove anything at this point, unless they can establish a pattern, but she said she’ll investigate.”

  I pull my face out of my hands and wrap her in a hug, pulling her close. I’ve never wanted to rip a person apart with my bare hands before, but if I ever see Nate again, I swear I will. “You’ve always been the most important person in my life, and I feel like I’ve let you down in so many ways.”

  “We all do the best we can, Marcus. Everyone’s going to screw up sometimes. All we can do when that happens is support each other.”

  I let her go and lean back. “I’ll try to do a better job of that, sis. Starting with maybe not hating on your husband quite so hard.”

  There’s a knock on the door, and then it opens and Caiden steps through. His eyes connect with Blaire’s and he gives her a lopsided smile.

  They’re telepathic, I decide, when Blaire seems to understand it’s good news before he even says anything. She leaps off the couch and throws herself into his arms. “I knew it!”

  I stand and Caiden’s gaze finds me over his bride’s shoulder. He peels a hand off my sister and holds it out to me. “Good to see you, Marcus.”

  I take it and shake. “Congrats.”

  He nods as Blaire unwraps herself from him, but they keep an arm around each other. “I honestly didn’t think it would go my way.”

  “You’ve paid your debt to society,” Blaire says, her words laced with acid. “They’re not the morality police, they’re college professors. It’s not their place to deny you a degree you’ve earned.”

  “That’s pretty much what they said,” Caiden says, twirling a finger into the ends of my sister’s shoulder-length espresso hair out of habit. I doubt he realizes he’s doing it. “I think they were a little afraid I’d sue if they said no.”

  “So what happens now?” I ask.

  “I need a month or so to pull my thoughts together and then I’ll present. They could still make it difficult if they want. They could reject my thesis, or ask for more research, or a rewrite. There are about a hundred different ways they could avoid passing me if they were so inclined.”

  “Duncan was the one who was spearheading the witch hunt, and that was because he felt responsible for letting you ‘ruin me,’” Blaire says, making air quotes. “If any of the others feel the same way, they’ll probably just pass you so they don’t have to deal with you anymore.”

  “We’ll find out,” Caiden says, squeezing her waist.

  “Can you guys stay for burgers?” I ask.

  Blaire grins. “Sam Hill?”

  I nod, knowing she’s in. When we were kids and Mom forgot to bring anything home for dinner, Blaire would pinch a twenty from her purse and we’d walk to Sam Hill.

  “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had a Sam Hill burger,” she says.

  “What’s a Sam Hill burger?” Caiden asks.

  She takes his hand and tows him toward the door. “You’re about to find out.”

  Since town is on Blaire and Caiden’s way home, we take separate cars. I’m relieved for Addie when I don’t see Bruce’s car out front when we pull up to the saloon. We find a table near the bar and Bran comes over.

  “Holy shit,” he says, pulling Blaire up by a hand and giving her the once over. He crushes her in a hug. “It’s been way too long.”

  Carol comes over and gets our order, and on a whim, I order two burgers to go. I try to convince myself they’re for later, but I know I’m looking for any excuse to see Addie again. I just have to figure out how to not seem like a stalker, and bringing then dinner unannounced is only slightly creepy.

  Our food comes and I devour my burger then go after Blaire’s. She smacks my hand away. “Hands off my food. You have two more coming.”

  I open my mouth to tell her they’re for someone else. If there’s anyone who might understand what I think I might be feeling for Addie, it’s Blaire. But I’m not quite ready to admit out loud what’s going on in my head.

  Carol comes out from the kitchen with two grease-stained paper bags and set them on the table with the bill. “You know the record’s five,” she says, nodding at my empty plate.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Caiden throws a pair of twenties on the table, but I push them back toward him. “It’s on me.”

  Carol smirks at me. “Marcus gets the family discount.”

  Caiden looks at me. “Family discount?”

  “He only pays for alcohol,” she says.

  I give Carol the eye. “So much for my grand gesture.”

  He hands a twenty to Carol. “Tip, then.”

  She takes it with a grin and tucks it into the short apron strung under her round belly. “Nice to know stingy doesn’t run in your family, Marcus.”

  We head to the cars and Blaire pulls me into an extra long hug.

  “You’re going to be okay?” I ask.

  She nods against my shoulder. “Eventually.”

  Caiden holds out his hand and I shake. “Take care of her,” I tell him.

  He nods and guides her to their car.

  I climb in the truck and set the burgers on the passenger seat, then head to Addie’s. I sit in front of her house for a long time trying to decide why I’m really here. The only answer I keep coming back to is that I need to get a better grip on what I’m feeling for her.

  I should leave, but I’m not
going to. Short of that, I should call to warn her instead of just showing up on her doorstep. But there’s a part of me that’s afraid she’ll shoot me down if I do. When she got out of my truck a few hours ago, I was so scrambled I barely said good-bye, and now here I am with burgers. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

  I grab the bags off my passenger seat before I can talk myself out of this and move to her door, but about halfway up the walk, I hear a crash and a yell. I jog up the porch steps then stop on her stoop and listen. Voices start from inside, but the tones are low. I listen long enough to determine that no one’s hurt and there doesn’t seem to be an argument before ringing the bell. A minute later, the door is pulled open and I find myself face to face with a glaring Bruce. But despite his bloodshot eyes and ashen face, he looks totally different—more lucid.

  “What do you want?” he asks.

  Over his shoulder, I see Addie in the kitchen. There’s a small mound of cooked spaghetti at her feet, and more scattered under the kitchen table and toward the family room.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “It’s fine,” Bruce says, still giving me the eye.

  “I, um…wasn’t sure if you’d eaten, so…” I hold up the burger bags.

  Addie starts toward us. “We were working on it before the kitchen exploded,” she says with a flick of her wrist toward the spaghetti mess behind her.

  Bruce’s face twists into chagrin and he steps away from the door.

  “Come in,” Addie says, coming over and taking the bags.

  I follow her deeper into the room and close the door as Bruce drops into the recliner and rubs his face.

  “Only two?” she asks, holding up the bags.

  I hold up my hands. “I ate already.”

  “Couldn’t wait?” she says, turning for the kitchen.

  “My sister was in town…big fan of Sam Hill burgers too, so we ate there.” I gesture to the bags she’s put on the table. “Got a couple to go.”

  She goes back to cleaning up the mess. “I thought you were going to branch out. Something new every week.”

  “Yeah, well…that doesn’t mean I’m giving up my staples.” I negotiate through the strands of spaghetti to the roll of paper towels I see on the counter and tear off a few, then stoop down next to her. “You’re sure everything’s okay?” I ask under my breath.

  She gives me a small nod. “He’s going to rehab,” she whispers.

  I feel my eyes widen. “Seriously?”

  She nods again and I can’t stop the smile.

  Once we’ve finished mopping up the mess, she unloads the burgers and fries from the bags. She cuts one in half and splits the fries three ways, then puts half a burger onto one of the plates and hands it to me.

  I hold my hands up. “I told you I ate already.”

  She smiles. “And last time you ate yours and half of mine. So here.”

  I take the plate and wait for her to set hers and Bruce’s down at the table before choosing the seat next to hers, across from Bruce.

  “Come on, Dad. Dinner’s on.” She looks at me. “What do you want to drink? There’s Diet Coke, milk, or orange juice in the fridge. Or ice water.”

  “Water’s good,” I say as Bruce comes in and takes his seat.

  Addie pours three glasses of ice water and I try to ignore Bruce’s scrutiny as we wait at the table for her. Finally, she sets our glasses down and sits.

  I scoop up my half burger and take a bite. But just when I think we’re getting past the awkwardness, Bruce says, “How old are you?”

  I take a deep breath and debate how to answer that. I can just tell him, or I can tell him it’s none of his business, because I’m Addie’s coach and no more. But that feels like a lie. And I can’t make myself say it in front of Addie anyway. I don’t want her to think that’s how I feel about her. “Twenty-three.”

  His eyes are perfectly clear as they bore into mine. “You realize my daughter is only seventeen.”

  It’s not a question, but I nod in response.

  “So, what, exactly, is this?” he asks with a wave of his hand at the table.

  “I know you and Addie are going through a rough patch…with her injury and all. I just wanted to help out if I could.”

  “We don’t need charity.” His eyes narrow and flick between Addie and me. “But I get the feeling there’s more to this.”

  “Dad,” Addie warns, but I can see she’s trying to tread lightly. Bruce is going into rehab and now’s not the time to upset him.

  I shouldn’t have come here. This was a huge mistake. When will I learn to trust my gut?

  I set my burger down. “I really just wanted to help, and I’m sorry if you think it’s more than that.” I stand and look at Addie. “I should go.”

  I can see the struggle behind her eyes. She wants to fight with me, but even more, she wants to keep Bruce even keel. After several seconds, she pushes up from her chair and starts toward the door. I follow.

  “Thanks,” she says, pulling it open.

  I step through and look back at my plate on the table. “Don’t think I have too many cooties, so if you want to finish that…”

  She smiles at my lameness. “I’m a big fan of cooties.”

  I lift my gaze over her head and find Bruce watching us from the table, which is the only thing that keeps me from reaching out and touching her.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice,” I say, backing up the walk.

  “Bye, Marcus,” she says, swinging the door closed.

  There’s a long minute when I reach my truck and climb in that I just sit here, my heart thudding in my chest as if I just finished swimming a sprint. The thought of driving away feels like leaving much-needed oxygen behind. Finally, I force myself to start the truck and drive home.

  Chapter 12

  Addie

  I look around Dad’s room at rehab after his admissions counselor leaves and decide it’s more like a hotel and less like a hospital. He’s got a small private room with an attached bathroom. It’s all hardwood floors and neutral colors.

  “You’re going to be okay here?” I ask him.

  He’s in bad shape. The last three days since he tossed his booze have been torture. But he hasn’t relapsed, so I believe he’s serious about this.

  He lifts his shaking hand and touches the bruises on my face. “It’s going to be good, baby. We’re going to get through this.”

  I know he’s talking about more than his rehab and I nod. For the first time, I truly believe it might be possible.

  “Once I get myself straightened out, we can get you back to therapy. I know it was helping you.”

  I can’t fully contain the cringe. I don’t want to sit on some shrink’s sofa and spill all my darkest secrets. It just dredges up everything I’m trying so hard to forget. But that’s not what Dad needs to hear right now. “Let’s just take this one day at a time, Dad.”

  His counselor comes back in. The same smile she’s had all day is pasted to her face and I wonder to myself if her cheeks are getting sore. “We’ve got you all set for dinner tonight, Bruce. I’ve got you seated with some really great people. I’m sure you’ll start feeling at home here soon.”

  I stand and give him a hug. “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

  “He’ll be in good hands,” she says, but when I pull away and look at Dad, he doesn’t look so sure.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” I whisper, then brush his stubbled cheek with my lips. “I love you.”

  God, how long has it been since either of us said that?

  His eyes gleam with moisture. “I hope you know your mom and I both loved you more than anything.”

  My throat closes and I can’t speak. I nod and back toward the door.

  “I’ll be out of here in no time, Addie,” Dad says. “We’ll be good.”

  I spin and walk out of the building, surprised by the tears I feel threatening. I could take Dad’s car back with me, but since I don’t have an actual
license, I decide to leave it and head to the bus stop instead. On the ride, I think about getting off at the stop near school. I could catch the end of practice if I wanted. But then I think better of it. It’s Friday and I haven’t seen Marcus all day. If I ditch practice, it will be Monday before I see him again. Three full days without him might be enough to get my head on straight.

  I climb off the bus at the stop in the center of town and walk the three blocks back to the house. When I get to my room, I pull open Mom’s laptop. I’m on page three of her manuscript when the panic sets in, but I close my eyes and breathe through it. I pull it open again, and start to read. My chest swells with emotion as I read about her characters at the castle we stayed in when we were on our European odyssey right before Mom died. I lose myself in the familiar sights and begin to feel like I’m there all over again—the happiest two weeks of my life.

  I flip the screen closed at the end of the chapter, when the words begin to blur. I scrub the tears out of my eyes before they can fully form and slip the laptop back under my bed.

  I hated that Mom spent more time with her books than with her family. Anytime she wasn’t writing, it seemed like we were fighting…right up until the second I killed her. My therapist said I was suffering from survivor’s guilt. I never corrected her. It’s not survivor’s guilt. It’s just guilt. And I’ll live with it forever, because I can never undo what I did.

  I grab my book off the nightstand and head to my bench in the park, needing a change in scenery. But when I get there, a long body is already stretched across it. Marcus is lying on his back with his knees bent and his heels hooked on the arm of the bench. He’s got an elbow slung over his eyes. His hair is sticking out in twelve different directions, the way it does after he towels it dry from the pool. He must have just come from practice.

  At first, I think he’s asleep, but then I hear him mutter, “Just pull your fucking shit together, Leon. It’s not fucking hard.”

  I stand and watch him for a long moment. My eyes trail slowly over the length of him, along the veins in his arms, over the lines of his pecs, clearly visible through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. His shirt has ridden up and my eyes lock on the strip of exposed skin, following the thin trail of dark hair that leads down his abs and disappears below the waist of his jeans.