“They found out, I gather.”
“Yes. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I took a risk of having Gage come over when they were out. I knew they could come home anytime. Probably deep down inside I wanted to get caught. I wanted them to know what was going on. Actually, I’ve realized there was part of me that was scared about what was happening with Gage…because I knew it was bad. And they did come home and find us together.”
My teeth are clenched so tightly, my molars are in danger of cracking.
“We were on the couch, making out,” she adds, reading where my mind has gone. “You can imagine the scene. I thought my dad was going to have a stroke. I was even worried about my mom. She was crying, I was crying…Dad broke Gage’s nose. There was blood everywhere, Dad was yelling and saying he was going to call the police, Mom was trying to calm him down. They were so horrified. I think when my dad talked about contacting the police and called Gage a pedophile, it suddenly slammed into me what a disaster I’d created.”
“You?” My blood pressure rises even more, heat building inside me. “You created?”
“That was how I felt,” she says. “And I still do, to a certain extent.”
“He should have been thrown in jail!”
She grimaces. “Well, he wasn’t, and we’ll never know if Dad did the right thing or not. After Mom and Dad kicked Gage out and I was sent to my room and grounded for the next two years…” She smiles wryly. “Mom and Dad talked about it. They didn’t want it all public. It was…sleazy, I think was the word they used.” She bows her head. “It made me feel sleazy. And I was so angry. I thought this was the man I loved and we were going to be together, and they’d ruined everything. I ran away from home.”
“Oh Jesus.” My hands curl into fists, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms. “Jesus Christ.”
Staring at me, she says, “Don’t you think that?”
“Think what?”
“That I was sleazy.”
My jaw drops in horror. “Fuck no.”
She draws in a long, shaky breath, her eyes going shiny. “Wyatt…”
My eyes sting too, my throat thick. I don’t cry very often. I fight the urge back. “You’re not sleazy. That was not your fault.”
She sucks on her trembling bottom lip, a tear leaking from one corner of her eye. “Thank you.”
“Go on. Gage got traded then, didn’t he?”
“Yes. Dad did that. He made sure if Gage said anything about it, one word, or ever tried to contact me again, the world would know he was a creep who preyed on underage girls. He got him out of town. I don’t actually know what happened between Gage and his wife. I assume he probably did the same thing with another girl…s-somewhere else…” She chokes to a halt. “I feel horrible about that, if it’s what happened. He shouldn’t have been able to do that to anyone else.”
“Again, not your fault. He was an abuser.”
“I know now how ridiculous it was to think that a guy his age would be genuinely interested in a teenager as a girlfriend. I wanted to believe he was really interested in me.”
“Yeah.” My chest burns. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, making me want to stand up and throw and smash things. I’m so fucking angry on her behalf I can barely think straight.
“I felt so horrible about what I did. How I hurt my parents, and put them into that situation.” She swipes fingertips over her cheek. “I’ve never totally gotten over it.”
She has to be perfect.
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a hard pulse in the pit of my stomach. “Fuck, I should have shoved his head in a toilet and drowned him in that bathroom,” I growl.
“No. He’s not worth it. And it’s all in the past.”
“Not when he shows up and upsets you like that.”
“I’m okay, Wyatt. Yes, it was a painful reminder. I was taken by surprise when he walked in. And he is a jerk. I…” She tucks some hair behind her ear. “I reacted badly to seeing him. It was a shock. It made me feel like I was making another huge mistake, getting involved with you. Another guy who plays for my dad’s team.”
My eyes narrow. “That’s why you dumped me?”
She sucks briefly on her bottom lip. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
I can’t breathe. What is she saying? She regrets ending things? She wants to get back together? My heart slams heavily in my chest.
Heather…I told Heather I’d think about what she’d said the other night.
I stare at Everly, my eyes burning. I stagger to my feet and take a couple of steps away from her. My gut churns nastily.
“Wyatt?” Her voice is low, tentative. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sordid story. I regret—”
“It’s not sordid!” I keep my back to her. “Stop saying that. You were a kid. It’s what he did that’s sickening.”
Silence heavy enough to crush us swells in the room.
“Since we’re telling our life stories, I guess I should tell you mine,” I say roughly. I tip my head back, then turn to face her. I sit again, this time in an armchair across from her.
“Okay.” She blinks those beautiful eyes at me.
“I told you Hank was my best buddy.”
“Yes.”
“We were friends since we played together in Rimouski. He didn’t turn pro; he might’ve had a shot at getting drafted, but he decided to go to university instead. He got an engineering degree, got a job working for a big petrochemical company, and ended up moving down here.”
She’s watching me. I think I might puke.
“He met Heather and got married. They had Owen. We stayed in touch. One thing we both loved was skiing and snowboarding.”
Her eyes flicker and her forehead furrows briefly.
I keep going. “We went on a trip together, snowboarding in the Rockies, in British Columbia. The hockey season had just ended for me, we were out of the playoffs, so Hank and I took off for a week. It was gorgeous, perfect weather. We started into our first run of the day, on a double black diamond run on the back side of the resort.”
I stop, pressing a fist to my stomach, memories crowding my mind. “It was so fast. Hank was ahead of me, and then I saw…” I swallow. “I saw the snow in front of me give way. It fell down the hill, so fast, right toward Hank.”
“Oh God.” She covers her mouth with one hand.
“All I could do was watch as it caught up to him. It pushed him toward the trees on the side of the run. I saw his board, and then the snow pulled him right through the trees.” My voice is shaking and I take a few seconds to breathe, the images so clear and horrific to me.
“Wyatt,” Everly whispers, eyes now full of pain.
“I unstrapped my board and tried to run to him, through all the dirt and branches from the avalanche. I saw him in the snow, his feet uphill. His head was against a tree.” I close my eyes. “He was conscious…at first. He called me and I scrambled to try to get him, but…Christ.” I rub a hand over my face. “He kept saying, ‘Wyatt, help me.’ ” Now my voice breaks and Everly is there, kneeling in front of me, curling her hands around mine. I grip her hands. “There was a hole in his throat and his face was smashed.” Tears slide down my face. I don’t even care. “I was going to undo his bindings, but his leg was basically wrapped around a tree. I took my toque off and tried to use it to stop the bleeding from his throat. Meanwhile I got my cellphone out and tried to call 911, but I couldn’t get a signal.”
Everly releases my hands and rises up, cupping my face. Tenderly, she wipes the tears away. Her eyes are full of sympathy, not judgment.
“I started yelling for help. In between I was telling Hank to hold on, we’d get out, he’d be okay. But…I couldn’t save him. By the time help finally got there, he was dead.”
I lean my forehead against hers, setting my hands on her shoulders. She feels s
o small…but so strong. For a few moments, neither of us says a word, emotions swamping me, stealing my voice. I’m remembering how I felt, sitting in the snow with my dead best friend, totally helpless.
Finally I draw back. “It’s my fault he’s dead,” I say flatly.
“No! It’s not your fault!” Her eyebrows slope down in distress. “You can’t believe that.”
“It’s true.” I set my jaw. “That’s why I asked to be traded here. Because Heather and Owen are here.”
“You asked to be traded here? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. We kept it on the down low. I had a word with our GM one day, told him the situation. I said I’d like to move to California, so either the Condors or the Golden Eagles. I was lucky. He made it happen.” I pull in a breath through my nostrils. “So I do what I can for the two of them. I owe them. I took Owen’s dad. Heather’s husband.”
“No,” she says again, staring at me. “You didn’t.”
I meet her eyes. “Heather’s in love with me.”
She jerks back. Sits onto her heels. “Oh.”
“She thinks Owen needs a dad.”
Everly’s head is shaking back and forth in tiny, jerky movements.
“And he does. I try to be a dad figure for him.”
Everly scoots farther away. “Are you…in love with her too?”
“No. But I owe them. I owe them my life.”
Her eyes widen. She looks stricken. She scrambles to her feet. “You don’t owe them your life. That’s crazy, Wyatt.”
“I owe it to Hank to look after them.” My voice cracks.
“Oh God.” She presses her fingers to her mouth, staring at me. “I’m so, so sorry for what you’ve been through. That’s terrible. I’m sorry you lost your friend.” She stands staring at me. “I-I’m sorry.” She grabs her purse and heads to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
Guilt punches through me, bands of metal squeezing my chest. I watch her tear out of my condo.
It’s for the best.
Chapter 24
Everly
I shouldn’t have gone there. I shouldn’t have talked to him. I almost told him I love him and then he gave me that bullshit about having to take care of Heather and Owen and her being in love with him and…shit.
I’m stalking along the sidewalk in the dark to where I left my car when I arrived at Lacey and Théo’s place for the meeting. Except tears are blurring my vision and I don’t remember where I parked and I can’t see the street signs.
I swipe the back of my hand across my nose and let out a little sob.
Fuck. I turn and make my way back to Lacey’s place. I punch the doorbell and lean against the wall, crying.
Théo opens the door. Alarm widens his eyes and tightens his features. “What the…Everly. Get in here. What’s wrong?” He takes my arm and tugs me into the condo. “Are you okay?”
Oh yeah, nobody’s ever seen me cry. This is probably tripping him out.
“I need to talk to Lacey.” I sniffle pathetically. I have to get my shit together. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s fine. Lacey!” he shouts over his shoulder in a panicked tone, then turns back to me. “Are you hurt?”
“No. I mean, yes. I’m…sad. Very, very sad.”
His lips twitch, but his eyes are kind. “I know.”
He thinks this is about Dad.
Lacey appears, concern etched on her face. She flies toward me, seeing my tears. “What? What’s happening?” She sets her hands on my shoulders.
I lean into her and she wraps her arms around me. “I’m sad.”
“I see that.” She hugs me, swaying back and forth for a moment. “Come in. Sit.”
Thankfully, Théo disappears. Although I guess it doesn’t matter anymore if everyone knows my sordid past. I’ve tried so hard to be what I’m supposed to be, to make Mom and Dad proud of me, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter. I can only be who I am. An anxious, neurotic perfectionist. And if that’s not good enough—for Wyatt, or for any of my family—too damn bad.
Lacey sits me on the couch, brings me tequila, and lets me talk. She already knows how I feel about Wyatt. I spill the story of what just happened. How I thought I was being brave and living my life on my own terms, telling the truth about my past and how it’s affected me, and being honest about my feelings.
I should have known better. I do something spontaneous and instinctive and what happens? I get kicked in the teeth.
“So you didn’t tell him you love him?” Lacey’s eyebrows elevate.
“Um. No. I guess I didn’t. He started going on about Heather.”
“Who’s Heather?”
“Oh hell. I didn’t tell you about Heather. And Owen. Oh my God, it’s the saddest story.” I start crying again.
Lacey hands me the box of Kleenex.
“I don’t know if I should tell you.” I pluck a tissue and wipe my eyes then blow my nose. “Nobody knows about Heather and Owen.”
Lacey cringes. “You said it wasn’t his son.”
“No, no.” I wave a hand. “Owen’s not his son. That’s true. Wyatt’s best friend, Hank, was Owen’s father. He died…in a snowboarding accident. He and Wyatt were snowboarding.”
“Oh no.” I can see Lacey’s mind leaping ahead.
“Yes. There was an avalanche. Wyatt tried to save his friend, but he c-couldn’t.” I draw in a steadying breath. “He was devastated, Lacey. Absolutely broken about it. It’s why he asked to be traded here, because Heather and Owen are here, and he can look after them.”
“Oh my God.”
I tell her the rest, about Heather’s feelings for Wyatt, and Wyatt’s guilt.
Lacey flops back into the couch cushions and stares at the ceiling. “Holy shark testicles.”
My mouth falls open, I gape at her, and then I too fall back into the cushions, laughing helplessly. “Jesus, Lacey!”
We roll our heads on the cushions to look at each other, then laugh more, although mine is taking on a hysterical edge. She reaches for my hand and clasps it. “This is a catastrofuck.”
I laugh again. “Yes.” Then I sober. “I’m also really worried about my dad.”
“I know.” She squeezes my hand. “And then this on top of that. No wonder you’re a mess.”
“I am a mess, aren’t I?” I sigh. “I’ve tried not to be. But inside I always have been. Cool as a cucumber on the outside; inside, a squirrel on meth.”
She chokes on a laugh. “Oh, Everly. You’re a beautiful, kind, generous mess.”
I sniff. “Thank you.” I pause. “What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know, honestly.” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Maybe we need to sleep on it? Want to stay here tonight?”
I nod.
“The guest room’s ready.”
This reminds me of New Year’s Eve when I was supposed to share that room with Taylor and ended up passed out in Wyatt’s bed. I squeeze my eyes shut against more burning tears and plod into the bedroom.
Lacey’s so sweet, bringing me water, a nightie to sleep in, clean towels. “I love you,” I whisper to her, hugging her again.
“Love you too. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
I nod.
Right now it doesn’t feel like it. But I will be okay.
* * *
—
The Condors play the Golden Eagles on Sunday here in Santa Monica. Mom is going to the game because Harrison has been called up from Pasadena, so I decide to attend also. To watch my brother.
Who am I kidding? I’ll be watching Wyatt.
I can’t stop thinking about him. I admire him so much for what he’s done to help his friend’s family. What he’s sacrificed for them. Leaving the team that drafted him, in the
year they won the cup—the ultimate sacrifice for a hockey player. Moving across the country. Spending his time helping them. I ache for what he went through, now knowing the tragedy he survived. I can’t believe he would actually marry Heather out of guilt. I want to try to stop him from doing that. But who am I to tell him it’s a mistake?
My heart is crushed, bleeding and throbbing. I love him so much. I trusted him enough to tell him the truth about Gage, knowing Lacey was right. You can’t have real love and intimacy unless you’re honest. And then he was honest right back and broke my heart. I press a hand between my breasts, the ache there stealing my breath.
We’re up in Dad’s box. Théo’s here, of course, but JP is playing against us, with Mark coaching him. Matthew is just down the hall in the visiting GM box to cheer on his team, and on the other side of us, Asher’s in the press box. Damn near a family reunion.
It’s been a while since the Condors beat the Eagles, but this is a different team this year and they’re giving it their best shot. The score is tied at two after the second period, which should mean an entertaining third period.
Asher pops in during the intermission to say hi.
“Condors are playing great defense,” he says to Dad. “Totally responsible in their own end. Bell is truly playing strong this year. I don’t think anyone else on the team has the same ability to keep track of multiple layers of offense like he does. Smart guy.”
My throat aches. Even while I feel proud to hear this about Wyatt, it emphasizes how much I miss him.
“And Harrison is really standing out,” Asher adds. “He’s playing fantastic tonight.”
At that moment, Matthew pokes his head in. “Hey, Wynn family. Are we having a reunion here?”
Dad turns and narrows his eyes at his oldest son. Before he can snarl anything, I impulsively say, “Yes, we are. Come in.” I gesture.
He strolls in, dressed in a suit and tie, of course, as are Dad and Théo. Asher’s more casually dressed in a button-down shirt and dress pants.
Mom’s eyes dart back and forth between Dad and Matthew. Asher looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I smile.
Win Big Page 22