Holding on to Forever
Page 26
I nod. And I’m proud of my girl even if I’ll miss her like crazy.
“She has you and me,” Coach continues. “And she’ll be fine. You will too.”
I’m not so sure about me. I’m just getting her back, and now, she’ll be gone until at least Christmas, depending on her progress. Man up chants through me. He’s right. Rehab is best for her. When she returns, I know she’ll be that strong woman I’ve come to love.
I exhale heavily. “I’m cool,” I lie. The time without her will be hard, but I have to be strong for Emily. Just like I do with Phoebe and Mom. And I can keep myself busy with football and my studies.
Coach chuckles as though he’s been in my shoes. Maybe he has been although I can’t imagine how he could love a woman like President Parker. She doesn’t have a caring bone in her body. Hell, she doesn’t have a soul or the nerve to stick around for her daughter. Two days after word broke about a rapist on campus, President Parker came under fire. The media descended in droves. If she hadn’t already gone into hiding, there’s no doubt she would’ve been removed from her position. A rapist on campus is ugly enough, but when you add the Wes Blakely scandal to the mix, her removal as president was inevitable.
Her lover fled with her, and there are international warrants out for their arrest. We learned from the cops when they questioned Emily in the hospital that Richard Bennett, the man who President Parker is in love with, is a serial rapist, and law enforcement in several states have been looking for him for years.
Coach rolls back his shoulders. “We’ve got football games to play. I need you focused on that.”
I will do everything in my power not to let Coach or the team down again. I’m grateful he’s given me a second chance, and I’ll do my best to make him proud of me.
“You got it, sir,” I say before sucking in a sharp breath when my eyes land on Emily.
My heart sputters. My body warms, and my mouth is suddenly bone dry.
She’s more beautiful than I remember. Her strawberry-blonde hair is twisted up on her head in a messy bun. Her blue eyes are as bright and clear as the sky above.
She sashays down the porch steps with a suitcase in one hand and her purse in the other, locking eyes with me. Her lips feather into a ball-busting smile, and fuck if my dick doesn’t notice her too. If that isn’t enough, her look says I want to fuck you but it will have to wait. As tough as it’s going to be, I’ll wait for her forever.
Coach walks over and grabs her suitcase. “I’ll give you two a minute.” He puts her things in the trunk then runs into the house.
In two strides, we’re standing toe to toe. “Hey,” I say. The urge to touch her is strong, but I’m afraid if I do I won’t let her leave. I’m even afraid to kiss her. The minute I do, I’ll be a blubbering mess. I know this isn’t a permanent goodbye. But my heart doesn’t agree because it’s beating out of my chest.
She peers up at me seductively, sliding her small hands up my abs. “Will you wait for me?” Her tone belies the smile she gives me.
I rear back. “Baby, of course, I’ll wait for you. I’m not going anywhere.” I have a feeling she’s asking if I’ll date other women while she’s gone. I wrap my arms around her. “You’re the only woman for me, Emily Parker. I don’t want anyone else.”
She trembles in my arms. “I’m a little scared and not about rehab. I want that. I’m scared things will be different when I get back.”
I tip her chin up to look at me. “It will be. But it’ll be a better life, Em. A new beginning. For you. For me. For your dad.” I press my forehead to hers. “I love you, and I’m holding on to you forever.”
A tear slips down her cheek as she lifts up on her toes and brushes her lips over mine. “My heart is yours, Adam Miller. And I’m going to miss you so much.”
I crash my mouth to hers, my resolve shattering. I need one last good kiss to commit to memory so I can replay it over and over for the next several weeks while she’s away. I will need that kiss to keep me going until she’s back in my arms again.
The kiss is emotional and wild, both of us taking, tasting, and teasing until her dad clears his throat.
“We need to get on the road,” he says. “We have a long drive ahead of us.” Emily’s rehab facility is in Florida. It’s one of the best in the South with world-renowned doctors and support staff.
Reluctantly, I pull away. This is the hardest thing I’ve had to do. I’ve never had to say goodbye to someone I love.
As if she’s in my head, she says, “This is harder than I thought.” A tear slides down her cheek.
I swipe it away with the pad of my thumb and swallow thickly. “I know. But this isn’t goodbye, and we’ll see each other at Christmas.” She fiddles with the green and yellow bracelet on her wrist, and my heart warms at the sight of my girl wearing the gift my sister made her. If I needed reminding of how special Emily is, that just proves it. I kiss her lips one final time before inching backward, distancing myself from her. Otherwise, I won’t let her leave.
Coach guides her into the passenger seat. Once she’s inside and the door is closed, he turns to me. “I’ll be back in two days. Coach Price will whip you guys into shape.” He smirks, as if he knows something I don’t about his right-hand man.
As of late, Coach Parker and Coach Price have been getting along better than ever. At the beginning of the season, they argued a lot. But in the last few weeks, something has changed. I’m not sure what, but I like that they’re not fighting. The guys on the team agree too. It’s just awkward to be in the middle of their fights over plays.
Coach opens the driver’s door as Emily jumps out of the car. “Em,” he says, fighting a smile.
But Em has one thing on her mind—me. She jumps in my arms, her hands locking around my neck as she squeezes me tightly. “I love you more than you know.” She presses her lips to mine. “And I’ll be counting down the days until we’re reunited.”
* * *
Thanksgiving comes and goes, and life without Emily is brutal on my psyche. The first week she was gone, I couldn’t sleep. I tried to keep my mind occupied with football, working out, classes, and Mom and Phoebe. Thank God for Mom and Phoebe although Mom wasn’t thrilled when I told her what happened when Coach found out I was selling drugs. But she’s glad it was Coach and not the cops. And she’s thrilled I’m no longer selling that shit.
I’d like to say the second week, or third week, was better without my girl, but it wasn’t. As each day passes, I get more and more antsy to see her. I often think about her comment how things will be different when she gets back. I know they’ll be better, but as time presses on and she’s not here, doubt niggles in the back of my mind. Emily was worried I might not be here for her, but what if she changes so much she doesn’t want me?
I shove the question aside as Phoebe runs toward me, pulling myself back into the moment. She’s dressed in Cypress’s school colors, and she’s so excited to see me play today.
“Hey, love bug.” I lift her in my arms. She’s been in and out of the doctor’s office for the last month, battling colds left and right. But in the last few days, she’s taken a turn for the better, which is the only reason why Mom brought her to my home game.
“Win big, Adam.” She pecks me on the lips.
“Only for you,” I say.
She shakes her head. “And for Emily too.”
I roll my eyes. “For sure. Emily will be right here.” I point to my heart.
“I’m wearing Emily’s new bracelet I made for her.” She waves it in my face. The beads have strawberries on them.
“What’s with the strawberries?” I ask.
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “You always brag about her strawberry-blonde hair.”
I let out a belly laugh as Mom touches Phoebe’s arm. “Okay, let Adam go. He needs to get inside.”
I snuck out of the locker room when Mom texted to let me know she was here. But I do need to go. We always have a team pow-wow before the game.
Mom and Phoebe head to the entrance while I make my way back to the locker room.
I’m in my head, thinking of the game, the plays, trying to focus. I’ve given one hundred and ten percent since Coach let me back on the team. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into every play, practice, and game for the last month, and my efforts have paid off. We’ve won every game since my pathetic play at Greenville when the Bears’ scout was in the stands.
Nothing can stop me now.
“Adam Miller.” A familiar voice makes the hairs on my arm stand to attention.
Motherfucker.
I let go of the handle on the door into the sports complex and pivot on my heel.
Ray Diaz is standing at the corner of the building with his hands in his pockets and a grin that sends bile to settle in my throat.
Ignore him. Go inside. Play the game.
As much as my subconscious orders me around, I’m rooted in place, unable to move, because he wants something, and even if I run, he’ll find me.
His long legs eat up the space until I can smell his garlic breath. “I’ve come to collect.”
Those words he spat at me that night in his shop blare in my head.
You still owe me, and I will call in a favor.
I jut out my chin. “I don’t have time for your shit.”
He whips out his phone and taps the screen twice before shoving it in my face. I have to move away to get a clear view of what I’m looking at.
When I blink, my stomach lurches. It’s a picture of Emily sitting outside in a courtyard with others around her.
Son of a bitch. The fucker is stalking her at rehab.
The blood drains from my system, and my tongue won’t move as fear, pure and strong, consumes me.
My gaze drifts from the phone to Ray. “What do you want?” It’s the only thing I can ask. Because getting riled up or punching him isn’t going to do a damn thing.
Ray Diaz is like a cockroach who is hard to kill.
A slow grin emerges. “After this, we’re square.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Well?”
He’s enjoying seeing me sweat.
He glances around to be sure no one is listening. “I need you to throw the game today.”
My jaw comes unhinged. “What?” Shock splays across my face. “No fucking way.”
He pulls up another pic. This one is of Phoebe and Mom leaving the medical complex where Phoebe’s doctor is located.
Suddenly, Ray, the cars in the lot, and the building start to spin. I stretch my arm out, holding onto the wall. “Are you threatening my family?” I know he is, but for some strange reason, I want to hear him say it.
“Throw it, Miller. Or else, they’ll get hurt.” I believe him too. After all, he’s been accused of murder.
I angle my head. “So, you bet on the other team winning? But how do you know I’ll comply?”
He shows me Phoebe’s picture then Emily’s. “It’s simple. Play like you did against Greenville. That shouldn’t be a problem for you.”
Fucker.
“Oh, and I’ll be sitting next to your mom and sister.” He winks at me, whistling under his breath as he leaves without looking back.
I walk into the building with my hands shaking. My mind scrambles for a solution where I don’t throw the game. The closer I get to the locker room, the more I debate my options. I promised Coach I would make him proud. If I play like I did in the Greenville game, Coach will know something is up. But I can’t tell him either. He’ll have Ray removed from the stadium, and doing so would only serve to anger Ray more, and he’ll be sitting next to my family.
I squeeze my temples. I can’t call the cops. It would be Ray’s word against mine. Although Sam has some dirt on him, it’s not enough to bury him with. Otherwise, I would’ve already taken action. Ray is smart. I’ll give him that. He waited until the last minute to dump this on me so I wouldn’t have time to involve the cops or Coach or anyone.
I could tell Coach to bench me. But then he’ll ask questions, which will escalate into pissing off Ray. I can’t risk Phoebe’s or Mom’s or Emily’s life.
I can make it look like I’m having a bad day. After all, fans have seen me play like shit before.
* * *
The team is buzzing with chatter as we pile into the locker room at halftime.
I plant myself on the bench, my mind stuck on what to do. Throw the game or not throw the game. I know Ray means what he says, but I’m still struggling with my decision.
Carter drops down beside me, his blond hair stuck to his head thanks to his helmet. “Nice job out there,” he says. “We should win this too.”
We’re up by six points, and we still have the second half to play. But six points is nothing in football. One touchdown and our opponents are right back in the game.
“You’ve been quiet,” Carter says. “What’s on your mind?”
I shrug. “I’m good.”
“Pfft.” He knocks into me with his shoulder. “The last time I saw that brooding look on your ugly mug was in Greenville.”
I have to hand it to Carter for being perceptive.
The chatter is so loud I don’t hear when Sam comes into the locker room.
I jump to my feet. “How did you get past security?”
He rolls his blue eyes. “I’ve got connections.” He points to the door. “Can I talk to you for a minute outside?”
The coaches are busy talking strategy and Coach Parker won’t give us a speech for a few minutes. So I follow Sam into the hall and around a corner.
Once we’re safely away from prying ears, lines dent his forehead. “Ray Diaz is sitting next to your mom.”
I mash my lips together, grinding my back teeth. “I heard. You should go. Make sure they’re okay.” He can’t do much, but I feel better if he’s with them.
“Why is he here?” Sam asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Don’t ask me to tell you, because the less you know, the better.”
I can almost see the wheels churning in Sam’s head. Then his eyes pop wide. “Ray wants you to throw the game? That’s the favor he’s collecting?” His voice is low. I’m not surprised Sam has jumped to the right conclusion. He’s smart as a tack.
I nod.
“Don’t, man. You’ve come so far with Coach. Don’t screw this up.”
“He’s threatened to hurt Phoebe and Emily.”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, wringing his hands together.
“I have to do this. I’m not risking their lives.” I would die before I let anyone hurt them. I don’t care if I go to jail. I don’t care about football. They are what matter most.
He reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Play your game. Throw a bad pass. Make it look like you’re trying, but don’t throw it away.”
I feel the deep crease form in between my eyebrows.
“I have an idea,” Sam says with confidence.
“Sam,” I warn. “Don’t do something stupid to risk your life.”
“Adam, when are you going to understand that I have your back? I will never let anyone hurt you or your family.”
I gulp over the lump in my throat. I know Sam has that file on Ray. But I’m not sure that’ll keep Ray from hurting Phoebe and Emily.
“Do not throw the game.” He repeats, drilling a look at me. “Promise me.” I slowly nod, and his eyes warn me to trust him, but he jogs off before I can probe him further.
I want to stop him from doing something reckless. But Sam never does anything without thinking through every detail and the consequences. Even when put on the spot like this. I hope I don’t regret it, but I’m going to trust my buddy.
Since the second half started, I’ve been a ball of nerves. I can’t say I’ve played well, but I haven’t played like crap like I did during the
Greenville game.
Coach takes a timeout. “Adam, what is wrong with you?! Did you not see Carter wide open for the pass?”
“Sorry, I’m not feeling well.” Not a lie. The nausea has been eating at my stomach lining since Ray threatened me and my family. “I’ll get it together.”
“You better.” Coach glares at me. “Two minutes left in the game. We’re up by a field goal, and we have the ball. So, the game is ours to lose.”
What he means is don’t throw an interception or fumble the ball.
“Get your asses out there, and show me how proud I am of all of you,” Coach shouts.
He won’t be proud of me anymore when he finds out why I’m so distracted. I plan on telling him at some point after I know Ray isn’t going to follow through on his threat.
I steal a look in the stands behind our benches. Phoebe waves excitedly. Mom smiles, and I notice Sam and Mom have switched seats. Sam is sitting next to Ray now.
Sam bows his head, his lips moving, as Ray listens to him.
“Miller,” Coach barks.
I snap to and jog onto the field. The crowd is electric, clapping and whistling and shouting and stomping their feet.
I feel their energy as we get into position. Unless I deliberately screw up, we’ll win. Then what? Ray has full reign to do his worst on my family. I want to trust Sam, but what can he do? He can’t stop Ray. Sam’s a computer genius. Ray’s a thug. And in this situation, Ray has more power and strength over Sam.
I call out, “Set. Red twenty. Red twenty. Hike.”
Once the ball is snapped, I seek out Carter who’s ready to receive the pass on this play, and he’s wide-open. I’m ready to release the ball when one of the linebackers rushes me, knocking me to the ground, and the ball falls out of my hand.
The linebacker picks up the ball and starts running for the end zone.
I want him to score that touchdown. And silently I egg him on. The play was clean, and I did nothing deliberate to fuck it up. If we lose, and I’ve done nothing illegal, then Ray gets what he wants and he’ll leave my loved ones alone.