The Debt

by Tyler King

  In the years I’d known him, I’d never understood Tom. Not really. He didn’t talk about himself or his life before Hadley. I wasn’t even clear on how he came to be her godfather. But since the day the state brought the two together, he’d fashioned his life around hers. With that in common, we got along fine.

  When my ammo was spent, I cleared my weapon and returned the rental to the checkout cage. No matter that I had never been arrested, everyone in the shop gave me the eye like I might steal something or load up a semiautomatic rifle and go on a merry spree.

  Fuckers.

  “Is Hadley meeting us for dinner?” Tom asked as we headed to the parking lot.

  He leaned against his pickup truck dressed in the same green flannel jacket that I was pretty sure he wore the day I met him.

  “I mentioned it, but she had plans with Andre.”

  “He’s not a big fan of yours from what I hear. You two had some kind of run-in at the house the other day.”

  “Hadley and I had one of our spats. We worked it out.”

  “He’s not a bad guy, Josh. Maybe you could put more trust in Hadley’s judge of character.”

  His phone rang twice before mine buzzed in my pocket. Hadley’s number lit up the screen.

  “Hey,” I answered. “Are your ears burning?”

  “Don’t freak out. I’m fine.”

  My entire body went rigid with panic as my pulse accelerated and my breath lodged in my throat. “What happened? Where are you?”

  “Calm down. I’m at the hospital. We were in an accident.”

  My head snapped around to glance at Tom’s concerned expression. “Hadley—”

  “Are you still with Tom?”

  “Yeah,” I choked out. “He’s right here.”

  “I assume they called him.”

  “Hadley was in an accident,” I told him.

  “One more time: I’m okay. I told them I didn’t need treatment, but they shoved me in a room anyway.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I gotta go,” she said. “The nurse is yelling at me.”

  Then the line went dead.

  I was halfway in my car before I yelled out the open door to Tom. “I’m heading to the hospital. She says she’s okay.”

  My tires were squealing out of the parking lot before I was sure he’d heard me.

  * * *

  I didn’t have time to contemplate or obsess over the worst-case scenario. I considered only the distance between the other vehicles’ taillights and my front end, my velocity as I turned the corner toward the ER entrance, and making sure to turn off the engine and take the keys before I ditched my car in the pickup lane.

  I dared anyone to tow me or slap a ticket on my windshield.

  Despite Hadley’s reassurance that she was physically unharmed, I knew she had to be suffering. Her parents had been killed in a car accident. I couldn’t begin to imagine the fear she must have experienced in those first uncertain seconds of impact. I needed something to destroy. I craved a target that I could punish for putting her through such a horrific ordeal.

  She never talked about her parents. Neither of us had ever spent much time mourning our pasts once we had been given a second chance with our adopted families. However, that didn’t mean she’d forgotten.

  When I found her, Hadley was sitting sideways on the exam bed with her head bent over her phone. I lunged at her before she noticed me enter and wrapped my arms around her back with her hands trapped between us. Just the feeling of her against my body released all of the tension from my muscles. I breathed her in, exhaling in relief.

  “Hi there,” she laughed against my shoulder. “Miss me?”

  “Are you okay?” I didn’t move an inch, even as she wrestled her arms free to hug me back.

  “I told you, I’m fine. A bump on the head and some bruising from the seat belt. No biggie.” Her fingers gripped my back, curling the fabric of my T-shirt in her hands. “I knew you’d overreact.”

  I pulled away, taking her face between my hands to look her over. “Did they check you for a concussion? Are you in pain? Did they give you anything? What about an X-ray? I can call Simon. You know that sometimes symptoms don’t—”

  “Josh. Relax.” She smiled as she grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands down to her lap. “There are actual doctors who work here and know what they’re doing. Said I’m good to go once my ride got here.”

  I pushed her hair off her face, feeling around the side of her head until she winced at the raised bump. It wasn’t that bad.

  “A couple deputies came by to get my statement for the report. I haven’t seen Andre since they brought him in.”

  “What happened?” I held both her hands in mine, amazed that she seemed so calm and unaffected.

  “It wasn’t his fault. We hit a patch of slick road. He was going a little fast, but—”

  “Hey, Hadley.”

  Andre’s voice snapped me upright.

  Hadley’s eyes lifted to look over my shoulder and then darted back to mine. “Josh, don’t.”

  “I can’t let this one go.”

  I charged at Andre standing in the doorway. Shoved him against the wall. “You could have killed her!”

  “Back off.”

  “Fuck you. Do you have any idea what you’ve put her through?”

  “Stop, Josh. Please. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Me?” He pushed my shoulder. “You treat her like garbage. Always have.”

  “You don’t know shit. I’m the one who’s been here for her every day. Her entire fucking life, it’s been me. You’re no one.”

  “Josh, enough.” Hadley wrapped her hand around my bicep and tried to tug me back. “It was just an accident.”

  “Don’t defend him.” Andre pulled at her, putting himself between us. “You don’t need this guy. He’s a train wreck.”

  In that moment, for a brief mad-rage second, I didn’t want to hurt him. I wanted to dismember him. I wanted to destroy the thing that threatened to take Hadley away from me. Not because he had her affection, but because something so simple as riding in a car with him could have stolen her from me forever. And then what the fuck was I supposed to do?

  “I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her. You can’t even keep her safe for one fucking day. Her parents died in a car crash, and you—”

  Andre cut a look at Hadley. She wouldn’t look at either of us, her eyes on the floor. I knew that face.

  “I guess you don’t know her as well as you think you do,” he said.

  “Hadley?”

  “Go wait with Tom.”

  * * *

  On the ride home, I took care to drive at least five under the speed limit. For miles I bit my tongue while Hadley stared at the side of my face.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “No.”

  One hand gripped the steering wheel while the other held tight to the stick shift.

  The revelation that she’d misled me for so many years about her parents’ deaths felt like a betrayal. I knew every scar on her body and how it got there. She knew the disgusting truth of my past. How the fuck had she lied to me about this? And she had lied.

  Giving it some thought, I distinctly remembered asking years ago if she had kept a picture of her parents. She took me into the den at Tom’s house—we were maybe ten or eleven at the time—and showed me one that he had framed. That was when Hadley told me with a straight face that they had died in a car crash. As the conversation replayed in my head, I felt the bitterness rise within me.

  “Josh...”

  “What’s to talk about?”

  “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I don’t even remember—”

  “I do. I remember everything, Hadley. You were my best friend.”

  “Hey.” She turned in her seat, taking on a defiant tone. “The one has nothing to do with the other. We were kids and I lied. I’m sorry.”

  She remembered just fine.

  “Fo
rget it.” I tongued my lip ring, my shoulders tense as I kept my eyes on the dark road ahead.

  “I can’t forget it if you’re going to be pissy all night. I don’t get why this is such a big deal. Just let it go. Please.”

  “The thing is, I don’t think I can.”

  “So that’s the way it is?” she asked. “The past two days, everything we said the other night, none of it means anything now? Perfect. I should have known.”

  I pulled into the driveway and shut off the car.

  “Everyone knew but me, right? Tom obviously knew, and I’m betting Simon did as well. You’ve lied to me for years, Hadley. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

  I got out of the car and slammed the door. Once inside, I went for the kitchen and the bottle of Advil. The nausea was back, competing with my pounding headache, and the corners of my vision grew dark and fuzzy.

  “You are such a hypocrite,” Hadley shouted from the foyer as she slammed the front door. “You’re the one who shut me out. You’re the one who stopped talking to your best friend.”

  “That’s not the same thing.” I rounded on her, glaring down at those dark eyes so full of fire. “Don’t go there.”

  “Why not?” She shoved my chest. “I think that’s exactly where this needs to go. Let’s have it out. Right now. You ran from me without a word. You want honesty? Fine. You first.”

  “I’m not having this discussion.” I turned my back on her, walking away.

  My hands shook with anxiety. Sweat gathered at the base of my neck. My chest tightened, my stomach rolling with the memory of that night as it forced itself to the surface.

  “Don’t you walk away from me,” she yelled. “Josh!”

  I took the stairs two at a time until I reached my bedroom. I closed the door behind me, collapsing on the bed as my pulse raced. My skin crawled, palms sweaty. My clothes felt too tight, like the shirt collar was suffocating me. In a rush, I tugged and peeled at the fabric until I sat in my boxers. It still wasn’t good enough.

  In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped under the spray before the water warmed. It didn’t matter; I barely felt the temperature either way. One hand pressed to the tiles, I worked to get my breathing under control as I concentrated on pushing back against the images behind my clenched eyelids.

  Turning my back on Hadley yet again was not the best course of action, not on a night I had come so close to losing her. Sure, she wasn’t hurt in the crash, but a foot to the left or an inch to the right and maybe things would have been different. Nevertheless, I couldn’t face her while my body succumbed to the torture of my mind.

  For this very reason, I had never tried to explain. I had never bothered to make excuses. I had shut her out. No matter how much I loved her, I was never going to be well enough to be with her. Of course she deserved the truth. I owed her that much. But it was my inability to give it to her that made me a selfish bastard.

  I hung my head under the pelting water until my fingers pruned up. After toweling off and dressing in a pair of lounge pants, I picked up the phone to call my dad.

  “Josh, hello.”

  His voice was even, but I detected a stern note buried inside his usual tenor. I sighed, falling on my futon. She’d gotten to him first.

  “Just tell me one thing. Did you know?”

  “I did. I also advised her some time ago to tell you the truth.”

  “And she didn’t.”

  “You can hardly crucify her for it. I understand your disappointment, but she has a right to protect herself.”

  “From me?”

  “Whatever Hadley’s reason for holding on to this secret, you have to respect her boundaries. I would think you could empathize.”

  “Don’t do that. It’s not the same thing. She knows everything about me. Not wanting to talk about the past and lying about it are two different things.”

  “So they are.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  There was a long pause. My father expelled a breath.

  “Forget I asked. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.”

  I couldn’t put my father in the middle of this. He loved me, but he loved her as well. Asking him to betray her trust just compounded the problem. However, another question occurred to me. Cryptic warnings had been lobbed my way over the past few weeks. If a change were imminent, Hadley would have informed my father.

  “Is Hadley moving out?”

  “Son, I think you should speak to her. Now that you’ve calmed down.”

  “She is.” I sank back against the futon, the implied admission slamming into me. “When? Why now?”

  “Josh—”

  “She’s been planning this for a while and hasn’t said a word of it to me. What, was she just going to gather up her stuff one afternoon? I would come home to a note on the kitchen counter with her keys left behind?”

  “I sincerely doubt—”

  “Damn it! Dad, please. Tell me the truth.”

  “She’s applied for a transfer to Emerson next semester to finish her degree.”

  My chest collapsed. I couldn’t breathe. I’d finally done it. Years of pushing her away, and she’d finally had enough. The past two days hadn’t meant anything. She was planning to leave me behind whether I had apologized or not.

  “Josh?”

  “Good. No, that’s good. She should have gone in the first place. I’ll apply for a transfer to Columbia and move to New York with you. We can sell the house—”

  “We’re not selling the house. That was never the plan.”

  “Fine. Whatever. It doesn’t make a difference. I put my life on hold to accommodate her. If Hadley’s ready to get on with her life, then so am I.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Come again?”

  “Don’t start with me, Josh. You’ve dragged this out long enough and we’ve indulged your behavior until now. Take the night to sleep on it if you must, but tomorrow I want you to sit down with that girl and work out your differences. Tell her the truth, son. I’m not giving you another option.”

  “Why would you say that? You know—”

  “I do know. And because I love you and hate to see you in pain, I’ve tolerated your refusal to repair your relationship with Hadley. I watched you turn your back on the girl who brought us together and the woman who has been there for you every day since.”

  “Seriously?” I launched to my feet, at a loss for how this conversation had turned. “I gave up Columbia to stay here and babysit her because Hadley was going to throw her whole life down the drain when she turned down Emerson. I should have moved to New York with you. You’re the only family I have left.”

  “She stayed behind for you.”

  That stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “Hadley didn’t turn down Emerson because she was too afraid to move to Boston. She stayed behind because I told her you didn’t want to leave the band or the house where your mother died.”

  My mind filed through dozens of old conversations. The day I wrote my rejection letter to Columbia. Yelling at Hadley about ruining her life. Sitting down with the dean when I accepted my invitation to the university on the stipulation that they accept Hadley as well.

  “It was all bullshit,” I muttered under my breath. “You set us up.”

  “I did what I thought was best for you.”

  “You lied to me! What right do you think you have?”

  “You’re my son! Goddammit, Josh. You’re my son and you’ve carried this demon long enough. If it weren’t for that girl, I’d have nothing. No one. I love you with all my heart, but losing your mother destroyed me. There will never be another woman. I put my heart in the ground with my wife, and there it will remain. I’ll never be whole again. I’ll never be a complete person without her. I miss her every second of every day.

  “I’ve done you a disservice. I should have put a stop to this nonsense sooner. Your mother wouldn’t have let it get this far, but that’s why she was the better of us all. You’ve
always been an impulsive and prideful person, but this time it has carried on too long. You’re hurting yourself. The two of you need each other. You won’t be whole without her.”

  When I opened my eyes and finally took a breath, I found myself on the floor. My entire body shook and my head pounded.

  “Dad...”

  “I love you,” he said. “You’re all I have left. I will always do everything in my power to protect you and see that you are happy. Please, Josh. Don’t let her get away. You know as well as I do that she doesn’t want to leave.”

  “What can I say? It’s been so long.”

  “Start at the beginning and just tell her the truth. Hadley will understand if you fill in the blanks. Trust her. She wanted to be there for you then and she will be again. You just have to let her.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying to muster up the same confidence that my father so ardently held.

  “I’ll try, but—”

  “Take the first step. That’s the hardest part.”

  Chapter 17

  My father’s words echoed in my mind long after the call ended. In the dark, I sat on the floor with my back to the foot of the bed, eyes closed, face buried in my hands. The persistent headache that had plagued me for days returned, joined by the anxiety crawling under my skin and nausea turning my stomach.

  I thought about going downstairs. I imagined the vacant black piano sitting almost invisible in the dark. Tugging at the roots of my hair, I watched myself take slow, tentative steps inside. Still far enough from the piano that I couldn’t quite reach it, I pictured a younger version of myself sitting at the keys.

  Beside me, my mother walked in and took a seat at the bench. She smiled while I played, brushing my messy hair off my forehead with gentle fingers. With an audience, I sat up straighter to assume a proper posture. My fingers traveled the keys. Carmen knew the tune well—I’d written it for her—and hummed along with the melody. She had the sweetest voice, a delicate and angelic soprano.

  But the lighting changed. Where once it was daylight, the clouds coalesced around the house to shutter the sun and leave behind a gray wash. Her song transitioned. I sat taller, older. Carmen’s skin turned pale. Glancing at her, I saw the discomfort in her unfocused eyes. Her hand reached out to grab mine from the keys.