Interference

by Sophia Henry

  Indie winced. “What do you mean he won’t let me? I can leave if I want.”

  Everything in my gut told me to shut the fuck up and apologize to her, but I couldn’t. I needed to live my life. And she had to live hers based on what was really best for her: being close to her family.

  “Have you ever considered moving?” I asked. “Away from your mom and your brother?”

  “No, but—”

  I interrupted her. “They rely on you.”

  “They can get along without me.”

  “But can you get along without them?”

  “Yes. That’s why I’ve been working for the last three years. Finishing high school, putting myself through college, saving up money.” Indie closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts out. “But this isn’t about any of them. It’s about us. Yes, I have baggage. So do you.”

  “You’re right. And my baggage has shaped how I see things. I won’t make the decisions for Holden that someone else made for me.”

  “You aren’t making the decision. I am.” She pointed to herself. “That’s my job as his mother.”

  “Do you think you’re making a good one? Bringing me into his life when I have bigger ambitions? Ambitions that will take me away from this town, one way or another.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. And it killed me. Because it was such an asshole thing to throw at her.

  “I thought I was making a good decision by bringing him into a stable relationship and another wonderful family. I thought I could have a life with you.” Indie’s voice quavered and a tear slid down her cheek.

  “If we stay together, you would have to move, because I won’t stay here. It was never my plan to live the rest of my life in this town. It served a purpose, to further my career. That’s it. I’m not giving up my life goals.”

  Indie’s eyes flashed with anger and I knew I’d hit her where it hurt. “Why is it so easy for men to cause so much destruction and leave it all behind?” Indie mumbled, a bitter jab at me and how much I resembled Tim at that moment.

  But I couldn’t react. I had to be strong for both of us. “Destroying you was never my intention. I’m trying to think about the big picture for everyone involved. And I won’t be the guy who breaks up a family.”

  “Oh my god!” Indie lifted her arms between us, her fingers curled as if she wanted to shake me or hit me. “There’s no family to break up!”

  “I won’t be the one to take Holden away from the people who love him, or ruin his shot at building a relationship with his father. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your choice!” she yelled. “It’s my choice. It’s in Holden’s best interest to stay away from Tim. You’re the one I want in Holden’s life. I want us to be a family.”

  “I’m not his father!” When I said the words, the full impact hit me just as hard as they hit Indie. The words stuck in my throat, but I had to continue. I had to be the dick, so she understood. “We’re not looking for the same things in life right now.”

  In an instant, Indie’s entire demeanor flipped from confusion and anger to indifference.

  “I’m glad you showed me your true colors, Jason. Good thing this”—Indie waved her hand in the air between us—“wasn’t anything, anyway. We were just having fun, right?”

  Though I never expected Indie to use my own words against me, her well-timed recollection made it easier for me to be a jerk.

  I nodded, swallowing thickly, not sure I could respond out loud. “Yeah, it’s been fun.”

  “Have a nice life back in Detroit, you fucking coward.” Indie spun around and walked away.

  I waited, watching intently for that moment everyone talks about. That slight hesitation when she’ll turn around one last time before she leaves. The unspoken universal sign for me to run after her and tell her I’m an idiot and I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about and we can work it out together.

  I watched her car retreat until it turned onto Fincher Road, out of sight.

  She never looked back.

  Chapter 26

  Indie

  After five books, three songs, and one episode of Dora the Explorer, Holden finally fell asleep. I almost passed out next to him in his tiny toddler bed, but I had a massive amount of work to do, so I rolled off the edge and army-crawled to the door.

  Under normal circumstances, I don’t wait until he falls asleep, but I had to make sure he’d drifted off, because the paper I had to write counted for half of my grade—and it was due tomorrow. After Jason dumped me, I couldn’t even think about my class work.

  All I wanted to do was climb back into bed and cry, or lie on the couch and zombify myself binge-watching episodes of The Walking Dead. But I knew I’d never get my paper done if I had the TV blaring in the background. Sheriff Rick was too damn hot to ignore.

  Actually, watching The Walking Dead probably wasn’t a good idea, since Rick Grimes reminded me of Jason. Except they didn’t look alike at all. And Jason didn’t seem so ruthless.

  At least not at first.

  Not until he said all those horrible things about me not making good decisions for my son. And about how he would never give up his life goals for me. Just like Tim had said when he accepted his football scholarship and moved to Western State without giving me and Holden a second thought.

  What about my life goals? Why did people assume my only life goal was to raise a kid? Like I couldn’t be anything more than a mother.

  Why wouldn’t Jason talk to me about moving to Detroit? We’d been dating for only four months, but I thought we’d gotten pretty serious. We’d planned a dual-family trip for next month. Did that freak him out? Was I expecting too much of him?

  He never even asked me about the future. I couldn’t leave Bridgeland now, in the last year of my bachelor’s degree, but I could after I graduated. Tim left Holden for three years. I’m pretty sure I could move to Detroit. It was only two hours away, not another freaking state.

  Jason was finding excuses. He didn’t want us as his family. Just like my dad didn’t want us as his family.

  Fuckers.

  Does a relationship even matter in the grand scheme of life, anyway? Did I need someone to be tied to until the day I die? I already had that, in the form of a kid. Holden would receive my pauper’s fortune. I didn’t need to split it into thirds.

  My dreams of finding Mr. Right and having a huge wedding seemed stupid when I thought about marriage on a deeper level. People change. It’s inevitable.

  Did I really want to be part of a couple who got annoyed with each other for stupid reasons? What if we got sick of each other and had absolutely nothing to talk about? What if I realized he chews with his mouth open and chomps his gum like a cow eating cud? What if he got too comfortable in the relationship, stopped working out, started having pastries and coffee with the boys every morning, and ended up with a big-ass donut gut?

  Okay, those were shallow examples.

  What if he got shot and killed trying to save a class of first graders from a fucked-up kid with an automatic weapon?

  I’d be stuck in the same position as I’m in right now. Heartbroken and alone. And I’d still have to stay strong for my son.

  I closed my eyes as tears welled up. Since Holden was sleeping and no one else was home, all I wanted to do was curl up in a corner and cry.

  To avoid passing the couch, I wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. A bottle of Pepsi glowed under the top light, the caramel-colored, caffeinated nourishment beckoning me. I grabbed it and shuffled to the kitchen table.

  “Time to get to work,” I told myself, and flipped open my laptop.

  Suddenly the door burst open.

  “Thanks a lot, Indie!” Damien yelled, slamming the door shut and dropping his hockey bag with a thump as it hit the kitchen floor.

  “What did I do?” I lowered the Pepsi bottle I’d brought to my lips, before taking a drink.

  “You and Coach Taylor aren’t dating anymore,
eh?”

  “I…no…we—” I stopped and scowled at him. “How is that your business?”

  “Well, it was my business when you started dating him because I had to deal with a whole lot of guys talking shit about being the coach’s pet. It’s fine. I get it. I dealt with it because I’d never seen you so happy.”

  Well, that part surprised me. I didn’t think Damien gave my happiness a second thought while he was with his friends. I set my drink on the table and settled back into my chair, letting my brother continue his rant.

  “And I can take the stupid shit from my friends, ya know? You’re my sister and I’ve had to listen to them fucking lust over you my entire life, but it really pisses me off when my fucking coach takes his frustration with you”—Damien pointed at me—“out on me.” He flipped the direction of his finger and tapped his own chest.

  “What does that mean?”

  “He sat me! Fucking sat me! Didn’t even dress me for the game.” Damien curled his fingers into air quotes. “ ‘Healthy scratch.’ He’s being a complete douche because of you!”

  “Are you saying I should date him again so you can play?” I asked dryly.

  “That’s not the point, Indie! I’ve never been sat in my life. Sure, I’ve gotten benched for doing something stupid or selfish, but I’ve never been a healthy scratch. It’s complete bullshit!” Damien yelled.

  I leaned forward. “Can you please keep your voice down? Holden just fell asleep.”

  “Of course, Queen Linden.” Damien slid to one knee and bent at the waist, sweeping one arm across his body with a flourish. “What else can I do for you?” When he straightened, he mumbled, “It’s all about you all the damn time.”

  He bent down to grab his hockey bag and bolted from the room, knocking into the fridge with his shoulder on his way out.

  Any other time I would have laughed when he hit the fridge. Damien didn’t blow up much, and when he did, the release of his pent-up emotions was usually epic.

  But this time I couldn’t blame his outburst on the usual, simple, high school drama. Because this time it was my fault. Literally, my fault.

  I rested an elbow on the table and rubbed my forehead with my palm. No matter what I did, I couldn’t win. I’m always ruining someone or something.

  Ruining Tim’s football career—and life, evidently—by getting pregnant and keeping the kid.

  Ruining Jason’s life by trying to trap him in a stupid little farm town he despises.

  Ruining my brother’s entire adolescence by making him feel like he had to help take care of my son.

  It sounds so selfish, when all I’m trying to do is give Holden the best life I possibly can.

  I’m probably ruining that, too.

  Chapter 27

  Jason

  I glanced over my shoulder, across the dimly lit room, and found Indie immediately. I’d never felt such a connection to anyone before. I had no way to explain how I could spot her anywhere, even through the tangled trees of a lush forest in the middle of the night. Every time I looked at her, she glowed as if she’d just drunk some kind of solution that made her light up from the inside.

  On a regular day, Indie’s natural beauty blew my mind, whether she wore her Peak City uniform—a maroon polo shirt and khaki pants—or the old T-shirts and soft sweats she threw on to slug around her house. But her outfit tonight pierced my heart. An electric-blue dress that wrapped around every beautiful curve of her chest and torso, and flared out at her waist to skim her legs as she walked.

  Fuck me.

  I turned back to the bar and set my eyes and my thoughts on my beer. Examining the amber liquid beat obsessing over my memories of being with her. How amazing her strong, slim legs felt wrapped around my hips. Or how every time those limbs tightened against me in fear that I’d drop her, I’d almost blown my load before I even got inside her.

  Because that’s how much she affected me. Every squeeze set my senses on fire. Every touch made my skin tingle.

  Unable to stop myself, I turned around again. The dress cinched her slender waist, but my eyes traveled up to the deep V in front and the soft skin the plunging neckline revealed. The memory of listening to her heartbeat while curled up against her sleeping body would haunt my dreams for a few weeks. Or years. Or maybe my entire fucking lifetime.

  How could I have let her go?

  Because I couldn’t stay in Bridgeland. I couldn’t take Tim Antonio threatening me to stay away from his son. I couldn’t get in the way of Holden getting to know his dad. I couldn’t admit that I’m acting like a complete fucking coward, just like Indie said.

  I watched as a large male slung his python-like arm across her shoulders. Her body stiffened and the radiance she emitted dimmed. Why would she be with someone who sucked away the warm glow of who she was?

  A girl at the end of the bar called out to Indie and they both turned around. I stared, waiting to get a glimpse of the guy clutching her to him like he owned her.

  What the fuck?

  I rose to my feet, knocking my barstool to the floor in my anger and haste. The douchebag with his arm around the women I loved was Tim.

  “Hey, man, you okay?” The bartender’s words broke into my thoughts and saved me from putting my fist into Tim’s ugly, square jaw.

  Why the fuck would she get back together with him?

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I told the bartender as I bent down to pick up the barstool I’d knocked to the floor. When I straightened, I made the mistake of glancing at Indie one last time.

  This time, she was looking my way. Our eyes locked.

  I couldn’t look at her and not want her. I couldn’t see her and not regret what I gave up.

  I should have left the bar. I should have left the situation alone. I should have left her alone.

  But I’ve always done what I should. Hell, I uphold the laws that force others to do what they should.

  Jealousy, lust, and the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream made me rush to Indie. “Are you back together with him?”

  Instead of letting Indie speak, Tone stepped in front of her. His massive body blocked her from my sight. “That’s none of your business.” He balled his fists at his side. “Now fuck off and leave us alone.”

  Pure rage flashed through me, more rage than I’d ever felt in my life. So much rage I couldn’t even look at Linden.

  I wanted to punch Tim Antonio, the deadbeat, piece-of-shit dad who didn’t give a flying fuck about his kid. I wanted to slam my pistol against his face. I wanted to jump on his massive back and twist his thick neck until it snapped.

  Instead, I rushed through the crowd, shouldering through innocent bystanders to get out of the bar as fast as possible. I didn’t stop to apologize. Didn’t stop to see if I’d knocked anyone on their ass. Just bolted through and slammed my palms against the door.

  Once I stepped outside, I took a deep breath. The thick, humid air didn’t do anything to lessen the anger that had taken over my body. I smashed my fist into the nearest inanimate object, which happened to be a tree.

  “Fucking stupid,” I mumbled, shaking my wrist. Pieces of skin stuck to the bark where my knuckles had scraped. Blood beaded on the surface when I flexed my fingers to get the feeling back. I dragged my hand across my jeans, smearing crimson into the fabric. The blood bubbled back immediately. I kicked the bottom of the tree.

  That’ll teach it to make me bleed when it’s supposed to accept my idiotic punches.

  Fuck fuck fuck. I trudged to my car before I got into an all-out brawl with the elm or pine. Whatever the fuck kind of tree it was.

  Then I stopped, knowing I shouldn’t—couldn’t—drive right now, and started walking toward the street. I’d had only a few beers, but in my current state of mind, my driving had the potential to be erratic. Stained jeans and a bleeding hand wouldn’t help my case if I were pulled over, either.

  Streetlights felt like interrogation-room spotlights, pointing out everything I’d ever done wrong. Why cou
ldn’t I have been honest with Indie?

  Instead of being a fucking idiot and saying that we were just having fun. Instead of telling her we didn’t have a future because she was stuck in Bridgeland. Instead of acting like I should have any say in the choices she made.

  But it wasn’t even about Indie.

  It was about me. And my issues.

  A biological mom and an ex-girlfriend who both played a pivotal part in fucking with my head. In making relationships next to impossible.

  My relationship with Heather had been comfortable and easy. She never asked for more than I wanted to give. And when she broke up with me, it wasn’t because I couldn’t commit. Heather said she wouldn’t move to Bridgeland with me because she couldn’t make that kind of commitment to a cop. Something about the danger of the job, and not wanting to get a call saying I’d been killed while on duty. Pretty intense—not to mention morbid—thoughts for someone who’d spent two years dating a criminal justice major who’d always intended to become a cop.

  Why would she waste our time if she knew we never had a future?

  Which was exactly what Indie had said to me when she told me about her son. Yet I pursued the relationship and I led her on.

  Indie knew the dangers of my job. She had to, because she’s the type of person who thinks about things before making decisions that involve her son. But I pushed her away and broke her heart.

  Indie. The girl who made me laugh and busted my balls. The girl who inspired me with her strength and determination to give her son the best life she could give him. The girl who made me realize that my own biological mother gave me up for adoption because she loved me and wanted me to have a better life than she could give me herself.

  I fucked her over by telling her I didn’t want to stay in Bridgeland to be with her, and sending her back into the arms of her immature, arrogant ex.

  The image of Tim Antonio’s thick arm sliding across Indie’s shoulders flashed through my mind and I stopped walking.