“God, no. A few weeks after it happened, I got in to see the doctor for a check-up. Everything was fine.”
“Okay, good.” Relief seeps through his voice. “So, where does Kyle fit into all this?”
“He was adopted when he was a baby, his mother killed herself when he was only three months old. It happened to her too, I guess she couldn’t handle what had happened to her anymore.” I take a deep breath. “The man that raped his mother… was Nicholas Payn, his real father.”
My dad’s face looks at me in horror. “What?”
I nod, regretfully. “Kyle knew all along, that Nicholas was his father, and he never told me. I found out from his dad earlier and confronted him about it. He’s been lying to me all along.”
“Jesus Christ. That’s one hell of a coincidence.” He shakes his head in disbelief, trying to come to terms with what I’ve told him. He breathes out heavily. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend to like the guy, because I don’t… but I can understand why he didn’t tell you, the same reason I didn’t tell you about the money, and the gambling, the same reason you waited four years to tell me… you were scared.”
I was scared. In fact, I was terrified. Terrified that if I came out and said anything that he would come back.
Remember, I know where you live now, I won’t hesitate to come back here for round two.
There’s a frantic pounding on the front door. “Hayley? Hayley are you in there? Please, open the door, baby, I need to talk to you, to explain.”
Kyle.
Chapter 38
Kyle
I jump out of the car outside her father’s house and race up the driveway.
“Hayley? Hayley are you in there? Please, open the door, baby, I need to talk to you, to explain,” I shout, practically banging down the door.
The light in the living room is on so I know someone’s home.
“Hayley, please, baby, I’m begging you, just let me explain, please,” I beg.
The door swings open and her father stands there, his face hard and serious, his eyes red as if he’s been crying. “She’s not here.”
“Mr Roberts, I know you hate me, but I love your daughter and I need to talk to her.”
“She’s not here,” he repeats slowly.
My eyes flick to the sideboard in the hallway, the purse that Hayley brought with her to the casino tonight lying on top. “Then what is her purse doing behind you?”
He exhales deeply. “She doesn’t want to see you, Kyle, so I suggest you leave.”
I sigh heavily in defeat. “Then will you give her a message?” I ask.
His face doesn’t change, he just stands in the doorway with a vacant expression.
“Can you please tell her that I’m sorry, that I fucked up, that I will do anything I can to make it right. Tell her that I love her, more than anything in this world and that I need her to understand why I did it.” My voice cracks.
I hear a sob from the living room.
Hayley.
“Hayley? Baby, I love you. Please let me explain, I’m begging you.”
She steps out from the doorway behind her father, she looks as bad as I feel. Her hair is matted and wild, her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, dark circles have formed under her eyes. Her beautiful dress from tonight, crumpled and creased.
“Please just go, Kyle.” Her voice is low and worn out, like she’s too tired to speak.
I can’t bear to see her like this.
I did this to her.
Me.
“Hayley…” I whisper in a plea.
“Kyle, if you really love me, then leave me alone.”
I stand there, unable to move.
She turns and heads back into the living room, just as her father closes the door on me.
I look up at the sky, fighting back the tears that burn in my eyes.
She looked so sad.
So deflated.
So broken.
I did that to her.
I broke her.
I slam my palm into the side of the house I frustration, exhaling slowly.
I turn back towards my car. When I reach for my door, I take one last look at her house, her silhouette at the living room window, watching me. When she sees that I’ve spotted her, she backs away, disappearing further into the house.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Gwen.
She’s not here, Aaron hasn’t heard from her either. Any luck?
I text back.
She’s at her dad’s, she doesn’t want to see me.
Before she can reply, I switch off my phone and shove it back inside my pocket.
I climb into my car and rest my head forward on the steering wheel.
I’ve lost her.
I’ve lost the only person I’ve ever truly loved.
She hates me.
I can’t blame her, I hate me.
I hurt her, like I always knew I would.I hurt her, like I was always afraid I would.
∞∞∞
I arrive back in my apartment, my dad is long gone.
I throw my keys onto the kitchen counter and pull a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard before traipsing across to the couch. I slump into the chair, drinking directly from the bottle. I grit my teeth through the sharp burn of the liquid as it makes its way down my throat.
I sit staring at the blank screen of the TV, as I neck the entire bottle of Jack.
The silence is deafening.
The large empty space is suffocating, it feels like the walls are closing in on me.
An overwhelming feeling of unease and anxiety slowly rises its way up inside me, it’s as if I'm trapped in a glass box and the water level is rising with no way of escape.
My vision begins to blur.
Is it the drink or the tears that are now leaking from my eyes, soaking my shirt and my pants?
I think it’s both.
I stumble my way back into the kitchen to grab another bottle, only there’s none anywhere. I check every place I can think of to no avail. I slam the cupboard doors shut as hard as I can, one of them so hard it comes off its hinges. I pick it up and smash it against the countertop, little pieces of wood splintering across the kitchen floor. I turn to the crockery and the glasses that lie on the draining board, they too get smashed.
Before I know it, I’m sat on the floor, leaning against the front of the fridge in my kitchen, the entire floor around me is littered with broken glass, splintered pieces of wood and pottery, it looks as if a shrapnel bomb has gone off.
I wish it had.
I pull my knees up under my chin and cry like a baby.
I cry for the mother that I never knew, the one that was stolen from me when I was three months old. I cry for what that bastard did to her, how she felt she couldn’t go on living with the memories of what happened to her.
I cry for the girl I love, how I lied to her, kept the worst secret possible from her and abused her trust. How I hurt her.
I cry for me, the stupid selfish bastard who destroyed the only good thing in his sad pathetic life. I cry for the future I used to see so clearly, but now she’s gone, it fades away just like a dream.
My front door opens, and the sound of footsteps draw closer.
“Hayley?”
I look up to find my mom and my dad staring down at me, their eyes wide in shock at the state of my apartment, and me.
“Oh, Kyle,” my mom gasps.
“Come on.” My dad steps towards me and pulls me up on to my feet and walks me to the sofa.
I fall back against the cushions as my mom perches on the couch next to me, she places her hand on my knee comfortingly.
“You’re father told me everything, Kyle, I’m so sorry.”
I look up at my dad. “Everything?”
He nods regretfully. “Everything,” he confirms.
“So, mom, how does it feel to know I’m the spawn of a rapist?”
My mom gasps, holding back a cry. “Kyle.”
; Fuck. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What happened with Hayley, did you find her?” my dad asks.
“Yeah, I found her, and she wants fuck all to do with me, can’t say that I blame her.” My head falls back against the cushions, exhaling deeply.
“Why did you keep it from her, Kyle. She had a right to know don’t you think?” my mom says softly.
“You don’t think I know that? I kept it from her to protect her, to save hurting her, and look how that panned out. Look, I’m really not in the mood for talking, I just lost the only good thing in my life and it’s all my fault, so could you please leave so I can carry on feeling sorry for myself?”
My dad sighs, shaking his head. “Come on, honey.” He holds his hand out for my mom, she reluctantly takes it. He hangs back and tells her to head out and that he’ll catch up. He turns to me.
“Straighten yourself out, Kyle, pull it together, you’re not doing yourself any good acting like this, you’re no good to anyone like this. Now, I’ve never known you give up on anything in your life and you’re about to give up on that wonderful girl? That girl that has had such a profound change on you, I’ve never seen you as happy as you are when you’re with her. Don’t give up on her.” With that, he walk out the door, leaving me alone to wallow in my self-pity.
Chapter 39
Kyle
“Wake up, asshole.” I'm in bed, my face buried in the pillows, I’m being shoved repeatedly in the shoulder. “Wake the fuck up, man.”
Luke.
“What the fuck?” I grumble half asleep, refusing to open my eyes.
“This is ridiculous.”
After my party of one a couple of nights ago, in which I drank myself into oblivion, drowning myself in as much alcohol I could find and bottles and cutlery went flying, my head feels like it’s going to explode, like a weight is pressing down on it.
I haven’t left my bed all day, didn’t bother going into the office. Hell, I can call in sick too, I’m the boss, I can do whatever the fuck I like. Work is the least of my problems right now.
I just lay here wallowing in my own self-pity, slowly begin pulled into the huge empty void inside me, where my heart used to be.
The void that she left when she walked out on me, taking my heart with her.
The void that I created all by myself.
“Get lost, Luke. Not in the mood.”
“Tough shit. Get out of bed, right now.”
The pounding in my head is getting worse, his voice is not helping.
“No.” I roll over onto my side, facing away from my brother.
“Kyle!” he shouts.
“Fuck, could you be any louder?”
“Jesus, Christ,” he huffs, walking away, finally getting the message.
I begin to drift back off into a deep sleep when a torrent of freezing cold-water cascades over me, soaking me, and the bed.
I jump up off the bed and onto my feet. “What the fuck?” I bellow. Luke stands there, empty tumbler in hand. I give him a warning look, he stares me down. “Let me guess, dad sent you to come straighten me out?”
“No, I’m here for me. I’m not leaving you, Kyle. You're my brother and I love you. You need to snap out of this.”
“I’m quite happy doing what I'm doing.”
“What? It’s three in the fucking afternoon and you’re here, still in bed, feeling sorry for yourself when you have absolutely no right to.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, fuck you, Kyle. I know exactly what happened between you and Hayley, what you did, dad told me everything, I mean, Christ, no wonder she ran out of here, I don’t blame her.”
Her beautiful face flashes in my mind, I wince as the pain floods in.
Sure, the drink dulled the pain, but it didn’t make it disappear, it only postponed it, at some point it was going to come back and bite me in the ass, and I deserve it.
I deserve every shred of pain for what I did.
For how I hurt her.
I sit back onto the bed, my forearms resting on my thighs. “I love her, Luke.” My voice cracks.
He sits himself down next to me and lets out a sigh. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
“I did it to protect her, the truth was only going to hurt her.”
“And instead, lying to her about it and having to find out about it from dad probably hurt more than it would have coming from you.”
“I know. At the time it felt like the best thing to do.” I breathe in deeply. “Is she alright? Have you heard anything from Gwen?”
“Spoke to Gwen, she didn’t really say much, other than that Hayley’s real sad, cut up about everything.”
She’s sad.
My body aches for her, to hold her, to kiss her, to comfort her.
“Does she… um… does she miss me at all?”
“What the fuck do you think? She’s completely in love with you, we’ve all seen the way she looks at you, how she acts around you, I’d say if she wasn’t missing your sorry ass, then she’s the best damn actress on the planet.”
“I need to get her back, Luke,” I say, my voice coming off desperate. “I need her.”
He looks me in the eye, a small smile curving up in the corner of his mouth. “Right, come on, get showered and dressed, dickhead.”
“Pretty sure you already gave me a shower just now, asshole.” I fight back a smile, shaking my head.
I love my brother.
Technically, not my brother, but that’s how we were raised.
No matter the situation, my brother is always there to show me what an asshole I am.
“Then go get another shower, prick. Time to go get your girl.”
Chapter 40
Hayley
There’s a light knock at my bedroom door and Aaron pokes his head around the door.
“Hey.” He smiles sympathetically, his voice soft and soothing. “Front door was unlocked, hope it's okay.”
“Of course, come in.” I drop the pile of clothes I was in the middle of folding down next to me on the bed.
My dad left earlier to go to his group session, leaving me home alone, which really isn’t the best thing right now, so I’ve spent all day cleaning and tidying my room, anything to stay busy, anything to keep my mind from wandering to Kyle, but It’s impossible. Whether it’s a song on the radio that reminds me of him, or just a single memory, my heart lurches, my insides squeezing painfully.
It’s been two days, and it still feels as fresh and raw as it did that night, like a wound that won’t heal, even just a little bit.
I can’t remember where I heard it, probably in some book or something, 'It’s better to have loved and lost, than to not have loved at all.’
Bullshit.
If I hadn’t have fallen in love with him, then I wouldn’t feel like this, I wouldn’t feel this pain. This heartbreak. But then I think of all the good times we had together, do I really wish I could go back to the beginning and start over, erasing all of those happy memories to save me this heartache?
No, but sometimes it feels like it would be easier if I did, that it would be easier to have not met him at all. Why does it hurt so much?
My head is pounding, my eyes heavy from crying and lack of sleep, thoughts of Kyle filling my head, keeping me wide awake.
I’m not the only one who’s hurting, though. Kyle is too. I saw it. I’m haunted by one image every time I close my eyes, the image of Kyle falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face, the hurt and anguish on his face. The look of a man utterly defeated.
As much as I wanted to pound his chest with my fists, I wanted to wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck.
I should hate him, I want to hate him, but I don’t. After everything that’s happened, I can’t seem to make myself hate him. The reality of it is, I still love him. I’ll always love him, which makes it hurt all the more. It would be so much simpler if I could simply just hate him.
Aaron makes his way
over to the bed and perches next to me, his hand squeezing my knee gently. “How are you?”
The Game Page 22
