Heath

by Nikki Ash

  “Life deals us a shitty hand, but if I’ve learned anything from that asshole, it’s that you have to play the hand you’re dealt. And play it well.”

  I slide my hand over hers and thread my fingers with hers. “You’re not alone here.”

  She turns and presses a kiss to my lips, surprising me. Her other palm finds my cheek and she runs her thumb along my scruff. When her mouth parts, I lean in and brush my lips along hers. My tongue swipes out, tasting hers, and a low, hungry growl rumbles through me. I’m about to grab hold of her and kiss her until we’re both desperate for air, but then we hear it.

  “Cat?”

  We both freeze and her wide eyes meet mine.

  “It’s Theo,” I grumble. “Better get out of here before he finds our spot.”

  She grins at me and gives me another chaste kiss. “Thank you. This was the best birthday present.”

  The blanket slides away and I get a glimpse of her long, smooth legs before she scampers off and disappears around the corner. I pick up the picture of her mother and stare at her smiling face.

  I can certainly see how she drove Heath crazy.

  Cat’s been here barely a day and I can’t fucking think straight.

  But I’ll be goddamned if I turn into him.

  Cat

  IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, AND just like every year, the first game of the football season is Heights Academy versus Windfall public, the only other high school in town. The game is always held here at Heights because our stadium is state-of-the-art whereas Windfall’s field looks like a dirty patch of grass with some rusted bleachers on each side of the field.

  On one side of the stadium—where I’m currently standing on the sidelines—are the wealthy families dressed in their Armani and Prada, who drive around in their Beemers and Benzes and can afford the five-figure monthly fee to send their kids to Heights. On the other side are the families who wish they were on this side. They’re the families who shop at the local mall or Walmart, drive around in a Honda mini-van, and can barely afford for their kids to go on the end-of-the-year field trip at their public school.

  For my entire life I thought I was part of the family who belonged on this side of the field, but now as I look around, it hits me that looks can be deceiving. Sure, my father drives an expensive car, and we used to live in an expensive home. We dress the part, look the part, hell, we even speak the part. But it is all a farce.

  We’re not rich, we’re owned.

  I’m only able to go to school here because Mr. Heath allows me to. My father is able to drive the car he drives because Mr. Heath allows him to. My clothes, my car, my education. It’s all because Mr. Health allows for it to happen. And with one snap of his fingers, he was able to take whatever he wanted away. My father is now living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in town. Our home is empty. Our lives turned upside down. And I don’t doubt for a second, everything Mr. Heath has done is because he begrudges my father for being with my mother when he feels she should’ve been with him instead.

  The more I think about everything I’ve learned the last couple weeks, the more I feel like a fraud. Knowing my life has been one big lie has me itching to get out of this cheer outfit, away from this school, and go where I belong. I guess the question is, where exactly do I belong? Right now, I haven’t the slightest clue. I used to think I belonged wherever my father was, but now I can’t even be around him without feeling resentment toward the lies he’s chosen to shove down my throat my entire life.

  I let my mind drift back to several of the entries I read from my mom’s journals. Where she admitted she was in love with Heath but couldn’t stand the idea of being poor. Her entries are what led me to ask my dad how things managed to change so much from what my mom wrote.

  Without being able to look me in the eyes, he shook his head and frowned and said his love for my mom was his biggest downfall. He was so blinded by his love for her, he didn’t see Heath coming. And before he knew it, he lost just about everything. It was clear my father never read her journals, and I didn’t have it in me to tell him the truth of what they entailed.

  With the journals messing with my head and heart, and forcing me to question everything, I decided to pay her grave a visit. I think I was hoping by being close to her, I would find the answers I was looking for. I found my answers, but it wasn’t my mom who gave them to me.

  I should be at school, but I’m not. I’ve never skipped before, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be around other people today. My heart is hurting and I don’t know how to handle it. Normally, when I have a problem, I go to my father. But this isn’t something I can go to him about. I could, but then he would be hurting as well. And the last thing I want to do is hurt my father. He’s already been through enough. So, instead, I took the day off school to visit the person who is the reason for my heartache.

  My mother.

  Luckily, living with Mr. Heath is nothing like living with my father. For one, he doesn’t care where I go or what I do. He won’t even notice that after I dropped Theo off, I left campus and came straight here. To my mother’s grave. I don’t visit her often. She’s located in our family cemetery, and while it’s pretty in a creepy sort of way, with big shade trees and tons of flowers everywhere, I never bought into needing to be here to feel close to her.

  But right now, I’m desperate.

  Ever since Harrison showed me my mother’s journals I’ve been reading through them, and with each entry, I’m wishing he’d never shown them to me. Growing up, the only parent I ever had was my father, and he wasn’t just my father. He was my best friend. He’s always been there: for every school play, recital, sports event… I couldn’t ask for a more loving, hands-on dad. I never knew my mom, but every milestone, my dad would say things like, “Your mother would’ve been so proud of you” or “She would’ve loved to be here.” And I always believed him. I believed, had she been alive, we would’ve been a happy family.

  But now, as I read her journals, I’m hit with the cold realization that the picture my father painted of my mother all these years was drawn while being blinded by his one-sided love for her. Meanwhile, I’ve yet to find a single entry that says she loved my father or that she wanted to be a mother. Her younger years were sweet and wistful. It’s evident she loved Mr. Heath very much. Just not enough to put him above her love for money. But her later years leading up to her death, I’m not sure she loved anybody, not even herself.

  I turn the page of the current journal I’m reading.

  Dear Diary,

  My heart has been shattered into a million pieces. It’s hard to breathe. Heath finally returned and what happens? I find out I’m pregnant. Damn, Elliot! Now, Heath is gone once again. Only this time he’s left me for another woman. For Isabel Lincoln, no less! How could he do this to me? He is supposed to love me! You don’t leave someone you love! It’s not my fault I fell pregnant. He should’ve returned sooner! He should’ve never left. I hate him! I hate him for leaving. I hate Elliot for getting me pregnant! I hate my father for writing that stupid will. I hate him for dying before changing it! I hate my brother for firing Heath. I want Heath back. I want to NOT be pregnant. Every day I wake up and wish for it all to be a nightmare. That I will go to the doctor and he will tell me it’s all a mistake and I am in fact not pregnant. Elliot is so excited to become a father. I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him. I just want Heath back. I want him to pull me into his arms and tell me everything will be okay. But he’s gone. And I’m afraid this time, he might not come back.

  My eyes close and a single tear hits the page. The wetness causes the ink to run down the paper and blur several of the words. Not only did she not love my father, but she wished I was never born.

  “What are you doing here?” The masculine voice has my head shooting up in surprise. I’ve been here for several hours and nobody has come by. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  My eyes land on Mr. Heath. He’s standing above me, dressed impeccably
in his three-piece suit with a scowl marring his face.

  “I’m visiting my mom,” I tell him, wiping the tears from my lids. “Is that why you’re here?” I ask dumbly. Why else would he be here at my family’s burial plot? Surely, he doesn’t have any family here.

  “She wasn’t supposed to be buried here,” he says with a look of disgust. “But your father, like the fraud he is, buried her here anyway.”

  “Where was she supposed to be buried?”

  “Under her favorite willow.” When he speaks now, his lips almost upturn into a small smile. Then his eyes land on the journal in my hands. “Snooping through my closet, I see.”

  “How did you get her journals anyway?” I ask curiously. When she passed away, she was living with my father at Low Valley Estate.

  “I took them,” he states matter-of-factly. “Just like everything else I took that your father didn’t deserve.”

  I simply nod. I can’t argue with him there. It’s obvious this man takes and takes and takes without considering for even a second the consequences of his actions.

  “So, are you enjoying the book?” he asks with a devilish smirk, and I know he’s read them. They are filled with recounts of many nights she and Mr. Heath made love. Some in vivid detail. My cheeks heat up and Mr. Heath laughs.

  “Don’t worry about coming across any sex scenes with your father. You won’t find any in there. He was dull and nothing they experienced together was worth writing about.” Once again, I can’t argue with him. Based on what I’ve read, it’s clear my mother wasn’t exactly attracted to my father.

  “I was actually reading the journal of her pregnancy.” I don’t know why I tell him this. Maybe I’m hoping he will say something that contradicts her words in this journal. That maybe she turned to these books when she was down and out, but in real life, she was actually content and happy…and wanted me.

  Mr. Heath stares at me for a moment and when he doesn’t say anything, I add, “I don’t think she wanted me.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to speak. I’ve only known Mr. Heath a short while, but in that time, I’ve only known him to be blunt, honest, straight to the point. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything.

  “She didn’t,” he confirms in a cold tone. “If she hadn’t died, she would have left you with your father and started a life with me. You were a mistake. A deadly one.” His gaze holds my own and I will the tears not to spill. I don’t doubt he’s telling the truth, but I’m not about to let him see how much that truth hurts. Instead, I stand and step away from the grave.

  “She’s all yours,” I whisper as I walk away.

  That picture my father painted was definitely skewed.

  After reading her journals, I’ve concluded that either my father really was blinded by love, or he chose to believe the lies, not wanting to deal with the truths. In the end, he was so lost in those lies, he didn’t see what Mr. Heath was plotting and planning. When my father lost it all, instead of acknowledging that and finding his way back, he allowed for a vindictive evil man to pin him up against the wall by his throat. And because of the choices he made and the lies he told himself, now I’m in the same situation. Living in the devil’s lair and allowing him to call all the shots. Every night I spend at Windy Hills feels like Mr. Heath’s fingers are little by little being tightened around my neck. I’m slowly suffocating, and soon all the oxygen will be forced from my body and all the life I once felt inside of me will be completely sucked out of me, leaving me dead inside.

  “Cat,” Anne yells, “Theo is going for the touchdown.”

  I take a deep breath and remember where I am. Raising my pom-poms, I call out the next cheer. “End zone, and go!”

  The squad immediately begins to cheer in unison. “The end zone is what we’re looking for! So come on, Heights! Take that ball and score!” Our arms fly straight up into an H just as Theo catches the ball and runs toward the end zone. When his feet make it over the line, the crowd screams and claps.

  “Touchdown!” we all shout, shaking our pom-poms in front of us. The buzzer rings out, indicating the game is over and Heights Academy has won: 28-14.

  “Party at my house!” Charlotte announces as we all climb into our vehicles. Because Theo still hasn’t gotten the hang of how to drive a clutch yet—and refuses to ask Harrison again for help—he’s been catching a ride with me to school every day. He jumps into the passenger seat, freshly showered, and grins wide.

  “Did you see that shit?” he asks, clearly still pumped from their win.

  “I did! You were on fire!” I smile back, thankful he’s stopped pressing me for more, and our friendship seems to be back on track. I don’t think I could handle having our relationship on the rocks on top of everything else. I might not feel the way Theo thinks he feels about me, but I do care about him. He’s become an important person in my life, and our friendship means a lot to me. He’s also the only person who knows the truth about our living situation. Everyone else thinks we’re having our home renovated and staying with Theo’s dad until the renovations are complete.

  We arrive at Charlotte’s house and I park along the road, not wanting my vehicle to get blocked in. Charlotte’s parents go out of town at least one week a month and every time they leave, she throws a massive party complete with alcohol, weed, and God knows what other recreational drugs. My dad would kill me if I let hundreds of kids get trashed under his roof while he’s not home.

  Not that I would ever throw a party under my dad’s roof, especially since his current home can barely fit the three of us in it, let alone the entire student body. My thoughts travel to my current home: Windy Hills Estate. I giggle as I imagine the fit Mr. Heath would throw if I threw a party. I’ve been walking on eggshells around his place, afraid of what he’ll do to me if I upset him. Thankfully, he hasn’t tried anything since I’ve moved in, but once in a while when our paths cross, whether it’s at the table for dinner or when I get up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, he makes it a point to stare at me a beat too long, to run his gaze over my body a little too slowly, almost as if he’s trying to taunt me. I try not to let it get to me, but every time his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, my vagina clenches as if it has a mind of its own and remembers his finger inside of me while his tongue licked my hardened nipple. The biggest mistake I made that day was pretending it was Harrison. It allowed my walls to come down and enjoy everything he did to me.

  Now, instead of feeling disgust toward Mr. Heath, I’m left feeling turned-on. And it doesn’t help that Harrison kissed me in the closet, leaving me wanting more. Wondering if given the chance, he could bring me the same kind of pleasure Mr. Heath almost brought me to.

  Of course, the chances of that happening are slim since Harrison hasn’t given me the time of day since that night in the closet, whereas I experienced the most memorable kiss of my life. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same way, though, because since that night, he’s barely even acknowledged I exist. Honestly, if I didn’t remember the kiss so vividly, I would think I imagined the entire thing. I’ve gone back to our secret spot a few times, hoping he would follow me in and we could maybe pick up where we left off, but no such luck. When he’s not at work, he’s at home in the garage. And when he’s not in the garage, he’s in his room with the door shut.

  Dammit! I need to stop thinking about these damn men! What I need to focus on is using my living situation to my advantage. I might be stuck living under Mr. Heath’s roof to keep my father employed, but that doesn’t mean I have to allow him to control me. He thinks he’s won this game, but maybe it’s time I show him I’m a worthy opponent. Starting with a house party. What’s the worst he can do? Ground me? Take away my car? I scoff at the thought. Then an idea hits me…

  If he took my car, maybe I could convince Harrison to take me to school on his motorcycle. The thought has a river of heat flooding through me. My friends would have a fit if they saw me pull up on the back of his bike. Sure, he’s not on the same rung of their so
cial ladder, but not even my rich friends can deny how hot Harrison is.

  I’m reminded once again of our kiss. The gentle yet possessive way his lips consumed mine and—

  “What’s got you looking so happy?” Theo asks, stealing me from my thoughts of Harrison. When I look up, I see he’s standing next to me with the driver side door open. I didn’t even notice him get out. He extends his hand for me and I take it, stepping out of my car. He closes the door behind me and keeping my hand in his, guides us up the sidewalk.

  “I was just thinking how much fun it would be to throw a party at Mr. Heath’s.”

  Theo stops in his tracks and turns around to face me.

  “Will you please drop the mister? We live with him and he’s my dad. He’s not exactly a stranger anymore.”

  “Sorry.” I shrug. “It’s habit. So what do you think?”

  “About throwing a party there?”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “It’s not like he’s going to kick us out, and you know everyone has always wondered what the inside of his monstrous mansion looks like.” I internally roll my eyes as I remember when I told my friends we were living there temporarily. They all wanted to know what it’s like to live with the illustrious brooding and wealthy Mr. Heath. What his home looks like. What he eats. Does he ever smile?

  “You barely even come out of your room when you’re home. Now you want to throw a party?” Theo questions.

  No, I want to piss off Heath. But I don’t tell him that. Ever since we’ve moved in there, Theo has been all about trying to get to know his father. He even invited him to come and watch him play tonight. Of course the asshole just cackled and told him recreational sports are for pussies. For a brief moment after he said that, I was almost positive Theo considered quitting the team. But before he could give it too much thought, I grabbed him by the arm and told him we needed to get going.

  “Maybe it will help me feel more comfortable. You know…like a housewarming party.” I bat my lashes and Theo smiles warmly at me.