“I don’t know if I want an explanation.”
“Por favor. Once I can get out of here, I’m coming over.”
“No. No. You know you can’t. Besides, I need some time to process all of this.”
He stayed quiet for a few seconds. “I understand,” he finally said, his tone dejected. “Just remember there’s more to it, and I’m begging you for a chance to explain.”
He had confessed there was more to it, and he still thought I could cope with everything just like that? More of what by the way? He said it wasn’t more bad things, but what could it be? I couldn’t see one good thing coming from what I had read.
“Bye,” I whispered before pressing the end button.
Tears burst from my eyes. Sobbing, I pulled my legs up and hugged them, resting my cheek on my knees. I was turning into such a weak girly girl who cried all the time and I hated it. I hated everything that was happening to me and around me.
That evening, Eric seemed in a good mood, and I wondered if he had anything to do with the article. Not because of me, but because Leo had snatched the number one from him, and Eric, being the sore loser he was, had to do something about it.
However, he didn’t mention any word about Leo and the article, and I sure wouldn’t talk about it.
***
My mother, Hilary, and I huddled around my father’s bed. The doctor had just checked him and said he might go home in a couple of days. He still looked pale and thin, but at least he was awake and recovering.
The moment I had been waiting for came when my mother went out of the room to answer her phone and Hilary decided to make a coffee run.
I sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jar it too much as he was still in pain.
“Hey, Dad, can I ask you a question?”
He caught the remote and pressed the button to raise the top of his bed. “Sure.”
“What exactly happened?”
His eyes flickered to the door behind me, then the window, before settling on me. “You already know, Hannah. I told the police everything I remember. I got out of the elevator and was walking across the parking garage toward my car when two guys jumped out and shot me. Next thing I knew, I was waking up here, six weeks later.”
“It’s … it looks like it was a premeditated incident. I mean, they didn’t take anything from you, and as you say, they came right at you and aimed at your chest.” I paused, a little nervous about getting to the point. What the hell? I swallowed and continued. “Do you have any enemies of any kind? Like, I don’t know, a rival or someone to whom you owe money, or maybe Mom's ex-boyfriend still sore that you stole her from him?”
He threw his head back and laughed. Then he groaned, his hand over his chest. “You know well enough that we’re friends with the other breeding farms in the region and that we have too much money, and I can’t even begin to imagine how I could get into any debt I couldn’t pay for, and your mom’s ex-boyfriend. Hmm, the last time I heard from him was about his wedding, over fifteen years ago.” He sighed. “The only person I was having trouble with was Mr. O’Neill, but I don’t believe he had the guts to shoot anyone.”
“But then, who? And why?”
He rested his hand over mine. “I don’t know, Hannah. I can’t stop thinking about it, trying to find a moment where I must have upset someone enough for them to want me dead.” He shuddered and I squeezed his hand. “But I can’t find any. Yes, I had arguments with lawyers, buyers, friends, your mom. Mr. O’Neill. But who doesn’t argue every now and then?”
“I know. I wish I could do something.” He arched his brows at me. “I don’t know. This time though, I won’t let the police abandon this case, like they did to grandma.”
He nodded. “Me neither.”
My mother entered the room, her phone in hand. Her eyes found our hands clasped together, and she smiled. “Am I interrupting something?”
I gasped. My mother just joked! The world was ending.
My father smiled at her and patted the other side of the bed. “Come sit with us.”
I glanced from him to my mom and back to him. I hadn’t seen this look in their eyes—this enamored, and thankful look—in …… forever. This incident had been a terrible thing, but perhaps, it would bring us closer together.
I left the hospital with a lighter heart and an almost smile on my lips.
At least one side of my life was looking up, and I had to hold on to it with both hands because, if I was gonna get through the other fifteen bad sides, I was gonna need it.
I stopped at a gas station right outside town and began fueling my car.
I leaned against my car, and my mind wandered to Leo and the magazine article. I still couldn’t believe it. He had told me he was a bad boy; I just didn’t know he meant it. And what a bad boy. According to the article, he flunked school, he partied hard, he slept with every girl that crossed his path, he drank until alcohol became his blood, and he did drugs. He had been in a rehab center, for goodness sake! I didn’t think I knew anyone who had gone to rehab. Until now.
He just wasn’t worse than Eric, because there was no evidence that he had hit a woman. Yet.
Oh shit.
How could I think that? How could I compare him to Eric?
I didn’t know what to think.
My cell phone chimed and I pulled it out of my pocket.
A message from Leo. Will you let me explain?
The real question was: should I let him explain? Before I thought too much about the subject and changed my mind, I sent him a message.
Me: Yes.
Leo: See you at your ranch in thirty.
Me: No. About twelve miles into route 154, you’ll see a camp. They have a huge parking lot. Meet me there.
Leo: OMW.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Butterflies soared in my stomach, and my hands turned a little damp. I felt like the teenage daughter of the town’s minister about to sneak out with the bad boy. It wasn’t much of a different scenario really, though I wasn’t going there to make out with him.
Not really.
Although, my heart hoped his explanation sounded like a miracle, and that afterward he kissed me senseless.
It took me ten minutes to drive to the camp. I parked my car under the shade of a big tree, in the farthest corner of the parking lot, distant from any other car. The minutes passed and there were moments when I almost turned the wheel and drove away, but I realized I would regret not sticking around and listening to his explanations. I would go home and always wonder, what if it wasn’t as bad as the article made it sound? What if he really had a reason for all the crap he did? So, I stayed there, biting my nails and trying to calm down my racing heart.
An old car with rusty red paint entered the parking lot and headed my way. I tensed. Uh-oh. I slid down my seat a little, afraid it was someone I knew and could tell Eric they had seen me here.
The car parked right beside mine. I peeked up and saw Leo, wearing a baseball cap and dark gray hoodie, behind the wheel.
After looking around, he slipped out of that car and into mine. As he settled on the passenger seat, it was like the AC had stopped working and the heat from outside had burst inside my car. The tension was almost tangible, brushing against my skin and making me shiver.
The way my body responded to just being close to him always amazed me.
I shook my head, pushing away those thoughts. “Whose car is that?”
“Freddy’s. He’s the handyman at our ranch.” He pulled the hood off, but kept the baseball cap. It was incredible how boyish he looked with the cap, and still perfectly hot. And kissable. And lickable.
Once more, I shook my head. Focus, Hannah.
“Why are you driving someone’s else car?”
“Because my house is surrounded by paparazzi and reporters. It’s hell.”
“How did you get out?”
The corner of his lip turned up. Oh, Lord, help me. “Ri and Pedro went to the front of the house and pretended they were
getting my car ready for me to leave. All the reporters followed them. Meanwhile, I sneaked out the back and borrowed Freddy’s car. I had to take a huge detour inside the ranch, but by the time the reporters realized what had happened, it was too late.”
I nodded, lowering my gaze. I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t know what to think. Closing my eyes for a second, I reminded myself of all the reasons to be mad and stay away from him. He omitted his past, and what a past! He had even used drugs. Drugs! He had punched people out of rage and he went to a rehab. Not to mention his playboy lifestyle and all the women he took to his bed. I shuddered, suddenly wishing I could punch all those women myself.
Crap. Even when mad and disappointed, the jealousy didn’t leave me, and neither did the desire.
The silence extended for a couple of minutes, until he broke it.
“I’m glad you answered my text,” he said, his voice low. “I was worried about you.”
I shook my head. “No, don’t turn this to me. We’re here because you want to explain that article.”
“True, but I want to know about you too. You owe me an explanation as much as I owe you one. I’m worried about you, Hannah. Like going crazy worried.”
I closed my eyes for a second. He was right. That day in my kitchen, I almost told him what happened. And I still wanted to, even though I was hurt that, after all we had been through, he had hidden such a big part of his life from me.
“All right. I’ll explain my reasons after you explain yours.”
He glanced to the line of trees limiting the parking lot. The muscles in his neck tensed, and his jaw popped. “I’m not sure reasons is the best word. I think of it more like catalysts for certain actions.”
“I see.”
He looked back at me and pulled his left leg over the seat, turning his whole body to me. “I’m not saying they will make sense, or that you’ll understand them, or that you’ll forgive me after knowing everything. I omitted my past from you once, saw where that took us, and I’m not willing to go through that again.”
His words rattled me, and I leaned my back on my door to keep myself as far from him as I could inside a car. “Just … tell me.”
He took a deep breath. “I was already a good player when I was in my senior year of high school, and my brothers wanted me on their team, even though they were older and had already graduated. Ri went to college, but he took like two classes per semester so that it was easier to keep up. My father said he would allow me to join them, because I was talented. So I did, and it was great. We traveled once a month, and sometimes we were gone for two weeks. When possible, I flew home, went to school for a couple of days, then flew back to the tournament for my next game. It was exhausting, but I never told anyone because I loved the game more than anything else in my life. I couldn’t imagine not playing ever again. However, with so many missed classes, I lagged behind. I missed important material and quizzes and exams. Some teachers were considerate of my position and helped me out, but others didn’t care. At the end of that year, we had won every tournament we had attended, I got my 10-goal handicap, but I failed most of my classes. My father … he was furious. We had a huge argument about it. He said that he had made a mistake by letting me join the team, that my first responsibility was high school, and things like that. The worst was when he said that I should go back to school, repeat my senior year, and not play for an entire year. He said that it was just one year. Nine months, actually. I would survive. The team would too, with a replacement. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? He was cutting me off from what I loved most in life and he was replacing me with someone else. Like I was a disposable object. Like I wasn’t his son.”
He paused and I held back from reaching to him and taking his hand in mine. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Taking another deep breath, he nodded. “So, I did as he told me to. After all, he is my father and I had no choice. Even if I challenged him, I was off the team. I went back to school and ended up mocked for repeating a year almost every single day. But, what was worse was seeing my brothers and Gui going to the tournaments without me. And they didn’t win all of them. That made me pretty pissed. I mean, not that I knew I could help them win, but we had won all of those tournaments the previous year. Anyway, I had to find a way of letting go of my stress and rage. That’s when parties and alcohol made their way into my life.” He glanced at his hands as he said, “And girls.”
Once more, I held back from hugging him. I didn’t want to get to any conclusions before listening to everything he had to say. “Go on.”
He cleared his throat, and his eyes met mine again. They shone with regret and frustration. “As you can predict, I failed my senior year way before the end of classes. Before my father unleashed his righteousness on me, I left home. That’s when things really went downhill. Without my mother and my father to keep me on my toes, I drank all day long. And partied all night. Soon, I was doing marijuana. A couple of months later, I was into all kinds of drugs. I could come up with several excuses for my behavior, but the real reason isn’t an excuse. I was mad, really mad, and I was drowning in self-pity.” He took off his cap and ran his hand over his hair. “All of those pictures in the magazine are real. None of them are photoshopped. And I’m immensely ashamed of them. I’m immensely ashamed of it all. Unfortunately, I can’t erase the past. Because, believe me, if I could, I would.”
I crossed my arms, determined not to let him—his side of the story—get to me just yet. “What happened then?”
“The guys and Bia came to me. They stepped into my mess and didn’t let me do anything else. I even punched Pedro and Ri a couple of times. I was rude to Bia … I don’t know how she forgave me. Anyway, they boarded my bedroom window and locked me in my room until I was begging for help. So they did help me. They took me to a rehab clinic and checked on me every day.”
I smiled, though it was a tiny one. “I had the impression they were nice, but now they sound like really great people.”
“They’re the best. I don’t know what would have happened to me if they hadn’t done something. Wait. I know. I would have overdosed by now.”
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.” He shook his head. “I’m not trying to excuse myself, but can you imagine being forbidden from doing what you love the most while everyone around you, close to you, is still doing it? During dinner, polo was all everyone talked about, and I had nothing to say anymore. In fact, it hurt to listen. And they were gone most of the time. Since I was still in school and Bia was going to college, we were the only ones left behind. But Bia had her own life. Sure, Dad forced her to travel with them a little, and that made me even more alone. I was literally left behind.”
I didn’t want to, but I began to understand his side of the story.
Polo was his life, and all of a sudden, it was taken from him. Yeah, I would have probably fallen into an unending spiral too, and probably hid it from everyone around me if I could.
“How long did you stay in the rehab clinic?”
“Four months,” he answered, his tone heavy. He played with his ring again. “It was hell. I admit I still have a really hard time refraining from alcohol and cigars when I see them, but … I need to remember how bad it was at rehab and it’s gone.”
So, that was why he didn’t drink during the ball and Jimmy’s barbecue. He didn’t drink alcohol. Period.
I gestured to his hand. “What does the ring mean?”
“Bia gave it to me once I was out of the rehab. She said it was to remind me of the dark days every time I felt like succumbing again.”
I smiled on the inside. So thoughtful. “You touch it all the time.”
“Yeah, so everyone tells me.” He looked at it. “I guess it became like a relaxation technique. A support or something.”
I nodded. I knew the story wasn’t over yet. “What happened then?”
“The guys went to my father, who still wasn’t talking to me, and prot
ested. They told him they were done if I didn’t make the team. He thought they were bluffing and ignored it. Next day, they didn’t show up for practice, even though I argued with them about it. They didn’t go to practice or tournaments for over two months, until my father gave in and let me in. That”—a sad smile took over his lips—“was one of the best days of my life. Then, the first tournament was one of the worst. Reporters were there, and people whispered when I walked by, looking at me with disgusted faces. It was … horrible. I wanted to punch them all. And I did. I punched a guy from another team and I punched a paparazzi.” He sighed. “I wish I could take those moments back. I didn’t want to hit them, but …… they didn’t know what they were talking about, you know. Just like now. Everyone is talking about what they read in the article, drawing their own conclusions about it, which are usually much worse than the truth. I don’t actually care that they are talking or what they are saying, only that it affects my life. I mean, the club obviously cares about it, otherwise I wouldn’t be suspended right now, and everyone thinks my brothers and Gui are bad people too because I am, and—”
“You’re not a bad person.” I clamped my mouth, but it was too late. The words had flown out before I could think about it. His eyes widened for a second, and I quickly added, “What then?”
“Right. Hmm, then my father found out the club here was looking to assemble another A team. He was careful to hide my past when he made the proposal, and I think the club really didn’t know anything.”
“So … how are things between you and your father now?”
“Tense. We only talk to each other when necessary, and most of the time the talking becomes arguing and even shouting.” I now understood what I had seen the day his father and he were arguing at the club, minutes before I asked for his help with Argus. Leo pressed his lips together. “I really try not to, but I still resent him a lot for putting me on the bench while strolling with the others right under my nose. I understand his reasons. As a father, he was trying to do what was right for me and my education, but he doesn’t have any idea how he ripped my heart out when he forbade me to play. The resentment is hard to let go.”
Breaking the Reins Page 27