Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  My breath hitches, my chest tightens. I feel bugs crawling over my skin, and I’m sure my cheeks are red. Just like old times. Adriane. Yeah, I bet he forgot to ask me to join them. This . . . this is what I get for letting my guard down. Disappointment. Humiliation. Pain. “Saylor, this is Adriane.” Lee Lee looks at me like I’m a pimple on her ass. An annoyance. I step back, shocked how naïve I was to think we were friends.

  I turn to run, but Mason’s there blocking me. “Shortstop.” His reaction time isn’t fast enough because I’m able to avert his grip and make it outside. I’m at my car before hands grab my waist. I kick, lash out, pinch my assailant.

  “Calm down.” That voice. I never want to hear it again. Instead of elation, it sends dread through my body. “Why are you running?” He did NOT just ask that.

  “Why didn’t you tell me Adriane is going to Colorado?”

  “What?” He has the audacity to act shocked.

  “Don’t. The truth is bad enough, but lies are worse. I saw your look of terror when your secrets were about to be spilled. You didn’t want our paths to cross. Does she know about me, or am I your dirty little secret?”

  “Stop, Saylor. Calm down, breathe baby.”

  “Fuck you, Deacon. I believed you forgot to ask me to come. I believed you cared about me. I believed she wasn’t a part of your life.”

  “You’re making assumptions, and they’re way off base.”

  “Why’s she here?”

  “She and Lee Lee . . .”

  “Don’t hand me that shit. What’d she want in the kitchen?” His face pales. I watch him swallow, and I feel the bile rise in my throat.

  “Julie,” I whisper. He nods. I wish it were as simple as him cheating. As him wanting to end things. Now, I’m the one who is going to walk away. I step back.

  “Stop.” He sees all over my face what is going to happen. “She doesn’t get to do this.”

  “I do. I can’t do this to Julie. I can’t be the reason you don’t let Adriane back in her life . . . in yours.”

  “I don’t want her. She gave up her rights. That isn’t your decision.”

  “Deacon, take time to think about it. People make mistakes every day. Every fucking day. Julie is still young enough that she won’t remember the bad. You have the chance to give her happiness. To give her a complete family. You have the chance to give her everything.” I swipe my cheeks, slapping the tears wetting my face. This fucking hurts. This is killing me.

  “Julie isn’t you, Saylor. The circumstances aren’t the same.” He grabs my hands, and I pull back.

  “No, she isn’t, and I don’t ever want her to be.”

  “You don’t get to do this to me. To her. To yourself. Fucking fight for us. Take a stand,” he demands. His fists are clenched, and he’s panting the words.

  “Take this break, and see what happens. We’ll talk after.” I open my door to leave. I have to escape before I change my mind.

  “Where are you going?” He stands before me, defeated. His shoulders are slumped, his face hard.

  “Hotel. I’ll come by in the morning and get my stuff for my flight.”

  “Surprise. Your parents are at my parents. We’re all going to Colorado.” I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. “See, I wasn’t hiding shit. I wasn’t going to spend Christmas or the New Year without you. I fought for us. You gave up.”

  “I’ll call my mom. We can stay here.” I won’t look at him. His anger is tangible, and I need to leave. He’s close to his breaking point, and I won’t be the cause of it.

  “That’s it? You’ll handle it. You’ll disentangle yourself from us? You’ll walk away?”

  “It’s not that simple, Deacon. We both need time. I need you think this through. All the ramifications. You deny your daughter a chance now, what happens years later when she finds out? Do you think she’ll forgive you? No, she won’t, because she’ll know the pain of an absentee parent. She won’t see the good you were trying to do. So I’m not walking away . . . I’m letting you go so you both can grasp onto something bigger than me. I’m so entangled in you two I’ll be unwinding for quite some time. It’s not about me. I promise.” I dig in my pocket and grip the letter. I go back and forth with myself; what will it help? In the end, I give it to him. If anything, it will show him I wasn’t planning on running from him. I am letting him explore this without the guilt of me. He looks at the envelope like it’s going to detonate. “Please, take it.” He grips it, and I let go . . . for good.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.” His ire is written all over his body. I choke on a sob and reverse slowly. God, I hope I know what I’m doing. I make it two blocks before the tears blind me, the sobs shake my body, the ache in my chest debilitates me.

  “Mom,” I manage as I dial her phone.

  “Saylor. My God. What’s wrong?”

  “I need a hotel for the night.” I don’t care the cost. I need solace. I need to curl into myself and shed this pain.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “By my own hands.”

  “Honey. Where are you? Jack is coming to get you, and we’ll get a hotel.”

  “No, Mom. I don’t want to be here any longer.” I haven’t put enough distance between us. I feel myself fighting to turn around and run to him instead of from him.

  “Jack found one. SpringHill Suites by the airport. Can you drive?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re leaving now. I’m coming, baby.”

  “Th-thank y-you.”

  “Be careful. I love you.” I end the call. My heart is shattered; I don’t think I can allow love in any crevice of it. I feel it’s beyond repair.

  I don’t know how, but I made it to the hotel, and my mom and Jack are outside waiting for me. “I’m sorry.” I fall into my mom’s arms.

  “Heavens, Saylor. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I-I’ll pay y-you ba-back.” My crying isn’t slowing. “W-we can-can’t go to Co-col-orado.”

  “Nonsense, Saylor.” Jack’s hand is rubbing circles on my back. “You don’t need to pay us back. We were going to spend time with you, and we can do that here. Or at home if you want to fly to Florida.”

  “I ruined it.” My mom leads me into the room, and Jack disappears through the adjoining door. He comes back in with a glass filled with clear liquid. I gulp it, needing my parched throat wet. Holy hell, it burns. I cough, sputter, wipe my tongue with my shirt.

  “Jack, what did you give her?”

  “Vodka.” He shrugs. “I’ll give you time.” He leaves, and my mom turns to me.

  “Start at the beginning.” She settles herself on the bed and forces me to lie next to her.

  “I think I was falling in love.”

  “That’s normal. Why the tears?”

  “She came back. I couldn’t do that to Julie.”

  “Saylor, you’re not making sense.”

  “Julie’s mom showed up tonight.”

  “I thought she was out of the picture.”

  “She was. I don’t know. I just know she is going to Colorado. She came back for Julie. He has to give them a chance.”

  “Does he want to?”

  “He says no. I told him Julie wouldn’t forgive him if he didn’t.”

  “Why is that?” Her body tenses.

  “I know Dad left us. I know somehow, someway he stopped loving me. Stopped wanting us. But if he came back and wanted another chance, would you have turned him away?”

  “He didn’t just leave, Saylor. Have you been basing your relationships on your idea of what you believe happened?”

  “It’s what happened.”

  “You’re wrong. Your dad was sick, Saylor. He didn’t just flip a switch.” I stare at her; we are speaking two different languages.

  “What? He died in a motorcycle accident. I’m sure being careless like the last years he lived his life.”

  “No, baby. We talked about this.”

  “You’re confusing me. Wha
t do you mean?”

  “When your dad moved out, do you remember how I explained it?” I shake my head. I don’t remember a conversation. I remember lots of fighting leading up to the day I came home, and his stuff was packed in a U-Haul. I remember standing in silence as I watched it disappear. I remember being sent to see him every other weekend, then that dissipated to whenever he had time. I remember the knock on the door telling us my father was dead. I sure as shit don’t remember a conversation about him being sick.

  “No, Mom, I don’t remember that. I don’t understand.”

  “Your dad changed one day. I didn’t understand. He was hardworking, proud of his family—he loved you. No matter what, he loved you. Money started being spent faster than he was making it. Frivolous spending. He started ditching work and lost his job.” I watch the pain play across her face. Her hands are fisted and clenched, and her eyes fill with tears.

  “Mom, stop.” My chest aches, I can’t handle her hurting.

  “The fighting. The screaming. It was nothing we’d ever experienced. I begged him for weeks to go to the doctor. I suspected drugs, but that wasn’t the case. I’m so sorry you don’t remember this.”

  “Are you sure you told me?”

  “Yes, baby. Maybe not in this much detail. I finally got him to agree to a doctor’s appointment. After extensive testing, which added many bills we couldn’t afford, we had a diagnosis. Multiple concussions over a short amount of time resulted in a closed brain injury.”

  “I don’t understand. I don’t remember him ever being hurt.”

  “It started when he was younger. When he was six or so he pulled a television down, and it landed on his head. There was no external injury, so it went untreated. He played football in school and had several concussions. A bad car accident in college added to the symptoms.”

  “Was there anything they could do?”

  “Yes. But he refused. He could have tried medication to stabilize his moods. He could have received therapy to help with the erratic behavior. In the end, he chose not to, and I couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t deemed a threat to himself, but he was. He lost impulse control. He lost so much.”

  “Why? Why couldn’t he get the help?”

  “Honey, you can’t make someone get help. I tried. I begged. I pleaded with the doctors to force it. I gave him ultimatums. In the end, he left. I asked him to. I couldn’t have you grow up with that. I held out hope until there was none.”

  “So he didn’t just leave. He didn’t stop loving me.”

  “Oh, Saylor.” Her arms pull me close. Her hands caress my back. “He never stopped loving us. He just stopped remembering how to show us.” I cry. I sob for years of confusion. Resentment. Anger. Bitterness. Despair. I cry for the man I love, the one I just learned I didn’t lose. He just lost himself. “You’ve thought all this time he stopped loving you?”

  “Yes.” I sigh into her shoulder.

  “I thought you knew. I don’t know if you were too young. If it was too much for you to understand. You were a little girl. I’m so sorry, baby.”

  “Can you answer my question? If there had been a chance for us to be a family, would you have taken it? Given him a second chance?”

  She closes her eyes. “Not unless he got help. These things aren’t that simple when you have another life dependent on you. I tried harder for you. I tried everything for our family. If he was going to continue the same path and be a detriment to your happiness, then no, I wouldn’t give him a second chance.”

  “What if it wasn’t all that? What if he just made some mistakes? Was confused. Would you let him come home?”

  “Without a doubt, baby. I loved him. I’ll always love him and not because he gave me you. He was a good man. He was my first love, and he had so much goodness in him.” Her answer seals my fate. Her words shred my heart. “Where is this coming from?”

  “Nothing. You just helped me with a decision I was undecided in.” My fate was sealed. I had to let Deacon try. I had to let Julie know her mom. I had to let Adriane make amends.

  Her eyes meet mine. I let her see everything I’m feeling. I let her feel the pain I’m drowning in. “Saylor.” I fall back into her, weeping for allowing myself to love. Not only Deacon but Julie as well. They weren’t mine. They never would be. I have to step back; I have to give Julie this chance to have her family intact. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.

  It doesn’t matter what Deacon says. In time his anger and betrayal will fade. He’ll learn to let Adriane in. He’ll remember what she gave him—Julie. It didn’t matter the promises he made me. It didn’t matter he claimed to love me. His focus, his priority should be healing his family, and I’ll let him do that in peace.

  “I think I want to come home for Spring Break.”

  “I think that sounds wonderful.” She winks at me. “But let’s get through Christmas. It’s not too late. We can fly to Florida and spend a few weeks at home.”

  “No, what’s done is done. We can have some quiet time here. I think it’s time I let Jack in.”

  “He’d love that. Believe me, he loves you, and I knew you’d come around.”

  I smile. “I know. I believe because I love Julie, just because she is Deacon’s.”

  “I promise you won’t hurt forever.” I don’t put much stock in her words. I know I’m young, I know I have my entire life ahead of me, but somehow I don’t think you ever get over your first love . . . and he’ll forever be the one who got away.

  “I don’t think I can come back here next year. I’ll finish this year, but I can’t, Mom. It hurts.”

  “Okay baby. You’ve been strong for so long, lean on me now. Let it out.” She holds me until Jack comes back to check on us. She continues to hold me while she shushes him, thinking I’m asleep. She holds me tighter when she tells Jack I have a broken heart. She hugs me closer as she tells him everything . . . and I have to hear it over again. My heart splits further open, and it’s so fresh there is no stopping the onslaught of pain.

  Only it’s not her arms that will heal me. It’s not her arms that will make me whole.

  It’s Deacon.

  And he’s not mine anymore.

  I’m not sure he ever was.

  The taillights fade as her car disappears down the street, taking a piece of my heart with her. All my plans. All my plans included her. I stand in silence, in solitude wondering what the fuck happened. I feel their presence without a word spoken.

  “Where’d she go?” Caden speaks, walking to stand by my right side.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Y’all okay?” Mason steps to my left.

  “Not even kind of.” I rub my chest. I’ve never experienced tightness like this.

  I shove the envelope in my pocket and turn towards the house. I don’t know what that bitch is playing at, but I’m going to find out. “Deacon, calm down before you walk in there.” Caden won’t stop me from seeking the answers I deserve.

  “Better yet, go home and let us handle it.” Mason is still trying to play superhero.

  I ignore them and start walking. My phone rings, and I silence it. It starts again, and I stop, knowing something could be wrong with Julie. I can’t risk it. “Hello?”

  “Deacon, what happened? Nina and Jack rushed out of here saying Saylor needed them.” My mom is frantic.

  “Fucking Adriane happened!” I snap.

  “She’s there?”

  “And will be joining us in Colorado.” My stomach recoils.

  “You didn’t.” Her tone is quiet.

  “No, I didn’t. Listen, I can’t go. Julie and I will stay here.”

  “No, you won’t. She will. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Mom, I don’t feel like going anywhere. Saylor just left. She’s upset. I’m pissed, and I need to get to the bottom of this.”

  “You will be here in the morning, and we will go as planned. Handle what you need to, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I’ll see you
tomorrow.” I hang up and reach for the door.

  “Deacon, you sure you want to do this?”

  “You bet your ass.” I walk to the stereo, bypassing bodies, and turn it off. “Party’s over. Come back another time.” I watch everyone clear until the six of us stand . . . just like old times even though so many things have changed. “Care to tell me what you’re playing at?”

  I stare down Adriane. The memories fly faster than I can bat them away. They bombard me one after the other.

  The first time we had sex. It was neither of our firsts, but it was combustible. Full of meaningless desire. Nothing like I’ve experienced with Saylor. Eventually we became a couple—in label only. She fucked others, and I did, too. Adriane is complex yet simple. Her entire life the center of her universe has been . . . Adriane. She’s made no secrets about it, no qualms with the truth. She didn’t hide it and if you didn’t accept it you could move on. She grew up as part of us but somewhat on the sidelines. I can’t say there is a deep reason for it; it’s just the way she works.

  The night that she told me she was pregnant changed me in ways I didn’t realize.

  “Deacon,” her tears make her overdone lashes stick together. “I’m pregnant.” Her cries are silent, and more than likely fake.

  “Is it mine?” Valid question.

  “I swear. I use condoms with everyone else. My dad is going to kill me. We can’t have it.” My gut clenches, and an intense heat surges through my body.

  “Like hell we won’t keep it. I don’t know what being a father entails, but a piece of me is growing inside of her, and she’s not getting an abortion. “We can do this, Adriane.”

  “I don’t want to.” Her selfishness is shining through. “I don’t want to get fat. I don’t want to listen to the bitching of our parents. I don’t want a baby.” Her voice is nasally from all the whining.

  “I don’t want you to get an abortion. I’ll do everything for the baby once it’s here.”

  “Promise?”

  “I swear.”

  I had no idea what that meant. It has been the biggest decision I’ve made in my life, but I don’t regret it.

  Julie came, and I was drenched in pride, excitement, nervousness—I had a job to do. I had to be her daddy. The best damn father there ever was. Adriane never got the parental bug, and I was okay with that. Our parents lectured us, screamed and yelled, and when it was all said and done, they came to terms with it. After she was born, things got ugly. Julie came home with my parents and me; something Adriane’s parents weren’t thrilled with. Adriane stuck to her guns about not wanting to be a mother and wouldn’t override my decision in regards to her care. She’d visit when forced, interact when her parents were watching . . . all the while biding her time.