Until

by Anna B. Doe

  I asked Mr. Ramirez, Maria’s father, what does it stand for. “Jack Daniel Shelton, New York Knight’s wide receiver.”

  It could have been coincidence, it happens all the time, but then he took off his hamlet and his green eyes looked straight at the camera. Piercing through me, like he knew I was there, like he was watching, and I had my answer. There was only one other person with this kind of eyes except me, and it was my mother.

  My brother is a famous football player, and I … I’m no one.

  J.D.

  Sitting in my car, I look at the brick walls of the police station.

  The place where my father worked for most of his life and, for some time, I really believed I’d end up working too. But then football happened.

  It’s not that I didn’t know I was a good player because I did, but there are only so many scholarships for football players and there were no guarantees that one of them would be mine, or that I’d end up being scouted to a professional team after that.

  Dreaming is nice, but sooner or later you have to face reality. And right now, my reality is waiting for me to confront it.

  After my unexpected blast from the past, I got my shit together and called my best friend’s brother and soon-to-be lawyer, Nathan Price. I could have let it go for a few days, forget anything happened and move on with my life, concentrate on the game that is scheduled in a few days. That would be smartest and easiest way, but I couldn’t do it.

  Cassie’s words were rolling in my head on repeat, and I had to get to the bottom of it. First of all, I needed a game plan.

  And a good one at that.

  Nathan gave me some general information and a contact number for some guy who’s an expert in the field. He also assured me he won’t say a word of it to his brother before I’m ready to talk.

  I also called my agent. To say he wasn’t happy with the turn of the events is an understatement. But I’m paying that guy way too much for him to bitch out loud about it. His job is to help me keep this mess undercover for as long as possible. The last thing I need right now, in the middle of the football season no less, is dealing with the press.

  The only positive thing about the whole situation is that it’s my possible sister we are talking about and not my bastard child whose mother I knocked up and left high and dry behind me. Even so, the press isn’t picky when it comes down to scandal stories, and this sure is going to be one.

  Taking one last deep breath and exhaling it slowly to calm my nerves, I open the car door.

  The guy Nate recommended is one of his professors or something that practices family law and child custody. I didn’t understand half of the things he told me, but I gave him all the information he needed and I wanted him to do. Mommy Dearest will give me guardianship or custody or whatever if there truly exists a girl who is my sister. Now I just have to grow a pair and tell that to my father.

  I don’t know what to expect of him.

  We never talked about her after she left. It was like she never existed. Just the two of us. And it was much better that way. Bringing her up now doesn’t seem fair to either of us. But I have to warn Dad that she is back, she has a surprise, and most likely, let’s face it, she won’t be leaving so easily. Not even after I give her the money she so desperately needs.

  When I open the door of the station, noises assault my senses—buzzing of the phones, five different conversations going on in the same room, typing on the keyboards. It’s hot inside, the air kind of stifling, and the smell of burnt coffee filling the room.

  This place is my third home. My dad’s house, football field, and the police station—all the places that I grew up in, all the places that define who I am.

  Everybody knows me around here so I smile and politely answer to all of the people’s questions as I pass by to my dad’s office.

  The door is open, and I see him sitting behind his desk that’s, like always, filled with a bunch of papers and files. His NYK’s coffee cup is on the edge of the desk, just waiting to fall and break into million pieces. He is frowning down at something he is reading, absentmindedly rubbing his chin.

  I knock two times to get his attention before stepping inside. “Hey, Pops.”

  “J.D., my boy.” He gets out of his chair to give me a half hug. “What brings you around? Shouldn’t you be at practice or something?”

  “It’s our day off,” I say, laughing. “Chill, old man.”

  “I’ll give you old man, you little …” He laughs, shaking his head.

  Some things never change, like the relationship I have with my father.

  Everything around me could be falling apart to be glued back together once again, this time into something completely different than before, but my dad and I, we’ll always be the same.

  Work and life, in general, did a number on him.

  Daniel Shelton is still as tall as he was back in his teen years. Not as muscular as then, but there is no beer belly for Chief Shelton. His face is made of strong, hard lines, but I’ve seen them soften a lot of time through years.

  He is compassionate and sensitive toward others, full of empathy, and always ready to listen and to help. We look a lot alike—same square jaw, same short now mostly grey hair, and eye shape, although his are light brown.

  We talk about football, stats, and possibilities for the season. Dad still has a season ticket and comes to all of my home games. He has always been a big football fan and my biggest supporter through the years. Always there to motivate me when shit got difficult and I was thinking about giving up.

  “So,” he says after taking a sip of his probably cold coffee, “what really brings you here? Usually you call before coming, and it happens rarely during the season.”

  He’s right, and there is no sense in dragging this out more than necessary. He’ll find out soon enough anyway, and there is nothing I can do to soften the blow.

  “Yeah, well …” I say, looking at piles of papers on his desk, not knowing how to start. Where to start. I clear my throat before continuing. “Last week Cassie showed up.” I look at him and the only thing I see is his cop face that isn’t revealing anything. “She is back, Dad.”

  “What does she want?” All traces of carefree, happy, and playful Dad are gone. This is what she does. She destroys everything good in people and if I wasn’t sure until then, now I know I have to get Danielle away from her. I can’t let her destroy something else.

  If it isn’t already too late for that.

  “Money,” I say in a flat voice. “Half a million, actually.”

  “What?” Dad growls loudly, probably shaking the whole building. He jumps out of the chair, the vein on his forehead thick. “You are not giving her any money, J.D.!”

  I expected some kind of reaction, but full-out anger wasn’t one of them.

  Dad is usually always composed and calm; rarely anything or anyone gets a reaction out of him. It’s one of the reasons why he’s a good cop. He always thinks before speaking, he is good at listening to people, and he is good at keeping his emotions in check.

  “As a matter of fact, I am.” I lift my hands in the air in surrender. “I know you are pissed and think this is a bad idea, but listen to me.”

  “You don’t owe her anything.” He points his finger at me. “She is the one who left.”

  “I know, but she said she has a child. A girl.”

  That one word opens a crack in his armor, but he doesn’t back down. “She is probably lying, and even if she isn’t, she is not your responsibility, Jack.”

  “Maybe she is,” I agree, “and maybe she isn’t. I have to go and find out. If she is telling the truth and there is a girl out there that is my sister … I need to know.”

  “She is not your responsibility, Jack,” he repeats in a softer tone.

  “How can she not be?” I yell in frustration. Getting out of the chair, I lean my palms on the desk and look him straight in the eyes. “She is my sister. My blood. My family. I can’t just leave her with her.�
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  He sighs, running his hand roughly through his hair. “You are right, I just …”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, although everything is all but okay. Why did she have to return now and change everything?

  “What’s your plan?”

  “I’ve talked to a lawyer. He drew up papers for her to sign. I’ll go there and talk to the girl. If I have my doubts about her being my sister I’ll take her to the clinic and do a paternity test. I guess it should tell us if we are related or not. If we really are brother and sister, Cassie will sign the papers giving me custody and I’ll give her the check.”

  Said out loud it didn’t sound like a bad plan. Little crazy and something that came out of the movie, but not bad.

  “Half million?” Everything about his stance tells me he is against this—rigid back, tightly pressed lips, set jaw—but it’s not like I have a lot of options.

  “Two-hundred-and-fifty thousand.” I shrug and lower myself into the chair that squeaks under my weight. “That’s more than enough. If everything goes the way she planned, it’s not like she’ll have to raise her.”

  No, she wouldn’t. But I would.

  What the fuck do I know about raising children?

  I’m only thirty. A bachelor that has no experience when it comes to children. None. Even less with little girls. The only experience I have with the opposite sex is if they are around my age and willing for a hookup.

  I’m so over my head, and it looks like my dad thinks so too.

  “No, she won’t, you will,” he says my own words out loud, making them real. “Do you know what the hell are you doing, J.D.?”

  “I have no idea,” I confess.

  “You better figure it out and soon, son. If you take that girl with you there is no going back. She’ll become your responsibility and there is no return ticket. You are in or you are out. You can’t just return her when you are done playing good older brother.”

  His words are harsh, but they are the truth. The truth I needed to hear before I make any decisions I’ll regret later. Because whatever choice I make, it’ll change everything. And not only for me. It’ll change everything for Danielle too.

  Why the fuck did she have to come back?

  Until Cassie Shelton decided to walk back into my life, everything was fucking perfect. But I guess perfection can’t last forever.

  Frustrated, I want to throw the stupid notebook across the room, but I don’t do it. I wouldn’t be any closer to slowing math problem I’m working on and with my luck, I’ll end up tearing a page out of it so I’ll have to rewrite everything again.

  Intertwining my fingers, I lift my hands in the air to stretch my sore muscles. A while ago I returned home after another ballet class with Mrs. Roberts. Her classes are every Tuesday and Thursday in the afternoon.

  At first, I thought it would be stupid to try. Weren’t dancers supposed to start young if they wanted to achieve something and be good? But after I passed her studio a few times and saw girls working I realized I could do it. It’s not like I want to be a professional dancer. It would simply be for fun. To learn something new and stay out of the house for a few extra hours.

  Also, there is something about Mrs. Roberts. I can’t point out what exactly, but she makes me want to work hard and give the best of myself. She encourages me and points out what I do good and what I do bad. It feels good to be noticed. To be praised. The best part of all is that she is like that with every girl that attends her class. She talks to every one of us and makes us feel special.

  No matter how much I like it, taking dance classes means I have less time for my schoolwork. And on the days I have class I have to do my homework later than usual, but it’s worth it.

  There is also Mrs. Roberts’ daughter Sienna. She’s cool and really nice to me. Those two classes she helped me catch up with the other girls, but she hasn’t been there the last few weeks. I didn’t know it, but girls told me she is a model, which isn’t surprising because she is beautiful. I could only hope that one day I’ll be half as beautiful and talented as she is.

  Noises from the hallway draw my attention. I carefully listen trying to determine what’s going on.

  The front door opens, but that’s the only sound for a while. I shift on my mattress and pull the blanket over my shoulders to stay warm. I’m not sure if the heat doesn’t work or if it’s on too low, but it’s freezing inside.

  “Daniel, you came,” Mom says, sounding surprisingly happy. And excited. “Did you bring me my money?”

  My heart stops beating for a second before it starts pounding rapidly.

  He is here.

  J.D. is really here.

  I don’t know what to think. What to expect. Jocks in my school are nasty and arrogant. Is he like that?

  My palms start sweating and the blanket slips out of my shaky fingers. He’s here. My only family except for my mother, and he’s so close I can almost feel him. Touch him. And maybe this will be my only chance to do so.

  I get on my feet and slightly open the door. I can’t see him because the door is in the way, only his shadow on the floor, but I can hear his voice. It’s clear and deep, unfamiliar, and causes goose bumps to rise on my skin.

  “It’s my money. And you know the rules. Where’s the girl?”

  “I’m here,” I whisper, opening the door a little wider, but not completely. Enough for them to see me, but also enough for me to be able to slip behind them and close myself off if needed.

  Both sets of green eyes turn and look at me.

  We are all quiet. J.D.’s looking at me like he’s seeing a ghost. Mom’s looking at J.D. with and evil, satisfied smirk on her face, and I’m looking between the two of them, waiting for their next move.

  “I guess you don’t need a blood test to know the truth,” Mom breaks the silence.

  In a few short steps, she is at my door. I’m too stunned with the whole situation to get to my shelter. Her fingers curl around my hand as she drags me out in the hallway.

  I wince in pain when her long nails dig into my skin.

  “You are hurting me,” I whisper, pulling my hand out of her grasp.

  She is rarely physically abusive. I was slapped a few times but that’s it. She prefers to use words as her weapon. They hurt more and last forever, engraved in your memory.

  Big hands land on my shoulder and softly but efficiently pulls me away from her. “Touch her again and you won’t see any money before we leave.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Mom frowns at both of us, her hands clenching into fists.

  “I would, and I will, you know it,” J.D. interrupts her and then looks down at me. “Danielle, go to your room and take what you need. We’ll leave in a few.” He must have seen my confusion. “What?”

  “It’s Grace,” I say, looking at him and Mom. “Grace Danielle. Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m sorry, Grace.” He looks uncomfortable and nervous. Maybe I’m not the only one affected by everything that’s happening. “I’m taking you to my house. You’ll live with me, your mom agreed. But if you’d rather …”

  “You’ll give her the money for me?”

  “Or I can give you the money and you can stay here.”

  I look between the two of them, not believing what’s happening. Mom wasn’t joking when she said she asked J.D. for money. But what is even more surprising is that he wants to take me in. J.D. will give her the money in exchange for her leaving us alone. And he wants me to move into his house.

  It seems surreal.

  There isn’t anything to think about.

  I can stay here or go with him. And although I don’t know him, it can’t be any worse than it’s living with my mother.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Grace Danielle—that’s her name.

  I still can’t believe she’s real.

  I can’t believe she’s sitting right next to me. Small and skinny, almost disappearing into a leather car seat. She’s probably trying to look invi
sible, sitting so still I’m afraid she isn’t breathing. Hands are tightly wrapped around her middle like she’s afraid to touch anything.

  Grace is the exact same copy of Cassie with long chestnut hair and her green eyes. Same as mine. It’s kind of creepy—same eyes and same middle name. What is even scarier and freaks the hell out of me is that she is almost a teenager girl. I don’t know what I expected her to be. A baby?

  But when I saw her tonight nothing else mattered.

  She stood there, behind the door that probably leads to her bedroom, shaking like a thin branch in a cold, north wind. Her big, doe-caught-in-headlights eyes looking at me, drinking me up, like it’s the first and only time she’ll see me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, although I know it’s the stupidest question one can ask. I just took her from the only person she knew her whole life.

  After she told us she’ll leave with me Grace disappeared into her bedroom to collect stuff she wanted to take with her, which wasn’t much. A backpack of clothes and a handful of books for school. While she was at it, I pulled Cassie into the living room.

  “You sign this paper, and I’ll give you the check,” I say, giving her the papers and pen. I’m eager to leave. This place is a shithole and I can’t believe anyone would let people live in it.

  “Half a million?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Cassie.” My nerves are loosening with every passing second, and I don’t feel like playing games. “I told you last time, two-hundred-and-fifty thousand, no more and no less.”

  She doesn’t say anything while she thinks it through.

  I can practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Calculating how much alcohol or drugs can she buy for that amount of money.

  “And just to be clear,” I add, pointing my finger at her, “you don’t contact any of us. Not Grace, not Dad, not me. You are as good as dead, and if you come back, you’ll wish you haven’t. It’s what you are signing for—Grace and no kind of contact with my family in exchange for money.”