by Jill Kemerer
As soon as the gratitude washed over him, fury erupted from his chest.
Wyatt might be all right, but that kid had a lot of explaining to do.
Drew strode, shoulders back, head high, out onto the field. The air had been full of shouting and laughing, but silence landed as the boys saw him. They parted like the Red Sea. Wyatt met Drew’s eyes, and Drew recognized the fear in them.
Good. He should be afraid. Very afraid.
He gripped Wyatt’s shoulder. “Come on. We’re going home.”
Wyatt had to jog to keep up with him on the way back to the parking lot. Drew didn’t care. Kept a tight hold on his shoulder until they reached the truck. Wyatt was the first one inside. The windows were down, but the sticky heat remained. Drew knew better than to drive with this much anger boiling inside his body, so he took a moment to get his breathing back to normal.
He faced Wyatt. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, his chin dropping to his chest.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Wyatt. What were you thinking? You know we’ve been worried about all the photographers and reporters coming into town. We thought you might have been kidnapped. Lauren’s scared out of her mind.” He needed to call her. He pointed at Wyatt. “Don’t move.”
After hopping out of the truck, he walked a short distance away and called her. This time she picked up.
“What? Do you have news? There’s no sign of him—”
His heart ached at how upset she sounded. “Lauren, I found him.”
“Is he okay?”
“Perfectly fine. For the moment. Tony tipped me off. Some of the kids play football behind the middle school, and that’s where I found him.”
“The middle school?”
“Don’t worry. I’m handling it. The chief gave me the rest of the night off, so why don’t you go home and I’ll stop by your apartment later.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I am, too.” He hung up and texted Tony to let the guys at the station know he’d found Wyatt. He slipped the phone in his pocket and marched back to the truck. Slammed the door behind him.
“Start from the beginning.” His jaw felt wired shut it was so tight.
“I didn’t think—”
“You got that right. You didn’t think. Didn’t think about anyone but yourself. Lauren has been frantic with worry. I’ve been all over town, trying not to picture you lying in a ditch or being held against your will.”
Wyatt shrank into himself. “I’m sorry.” His tone shifted to a whine.
“Well, I hope you mean it, because you’re going to be sorry before the day is over. Now tell me what happened.” His words chopped like a knife, and he made no effort to soften them. He’d been too easy on Wyatt and look what had happened.
“Levi texted me that he wanted me to be on his team today.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Wyatt glanced over. “I told him I couldn’t.”
“That’s funny. Here you are. What changed?” He waved his hand toward the field.
He shrugged.
“Tell. Me. How. You. Got. Here.”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” His voice rose. “He kept saying it would be fun. Lauren was busy with her interview, so I didn’t think you’d care.”
Drew clasped his hands so tightly his fingernails almost drew blood. “You didn’t think I’d care, did you? What gave you that impression? Your dad doesn’t want you playing football.”
“He’s not here!”
“But I am.” Drew jabbed his thumb into his chest. “Don’t you think I care about you?”
“Well, yeah, but...”
“But what? Look, Wyatt, I’m sorry your dad is in jail. You’re not the only one who misses him. But it doesn’t change facts. He’s still your dad, and I’m your fill-in dad until he gets out. You might not like my rules, but you will obey them. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he whispered.
“I love you, and you scared me. You scared Lauren, too. We aren’t keeping you from having friends. If you want to spend time with Levi, we’ll have him over.”
“You won’t let me hang out with him,” he muttered.
“Is that right?” Drew clenched his jaw. “I don’t recall you asking me to.”
“That’s because you won’t let me play football!”
Drew counted to three. His temper had already surged to nuclear levels, and he needed to bring it down. “Let me get this straight. The only way you can hang out with him is if you play football?”
“Pretty much.”
“So he doesn’t want to ride bikes, go to the beach, get ice cream? He will only hang out with you on the football field?”
Wyatt shrugged again.
“I think you’re making excuses. If it’s true this kid won’t be friends with you unless you’re playing football, than he’s not a very good friend.” Drew started the truck up. “When we get home, you’re going to your room. I have a lot to think about, and you will be punished. How did you get here, anyhow?”
“I climbed out the window and rode my bike.”
“Well, you’d better go get it. I’ll put it in the back of the truck.” Drew waited for Wyatt to wheel his bike over, and, after putting it in the truck, Drew drove home.
As they passed houses and fields, he thought about his childhood. How he’d yell to his mom he was playing with his friends. She’d yell out, “Be back before dinner.” And he would. He’d grown up in a subdivision outside town. He and his buddies would ride around and shoot hoops in one another’s driveways. Just like Wyatt, they’d ride over to the football fields and throw the ball around. His mom never cared.
Maybe he’d come down too hard on Wyatt.
But Drew’s childhood had taken place in different times. His father hadn’t been a celebrity. Plus, Drew had never snuck out.
Drew stole a peek at Wyatt. The kid had that lost look again, the one he’d worn for months before moving here.
Had he been too hard on Wyatt? Not hard enough? Who knew? He needed a crash course in raising a ten-year-old who happened to be the son of an incarcerated football player. He had no idea how to parent this kid.
Had he given him the impression he could do whatever he wanted? He didn’t want Wyatt to become the same entitled jerk he’d been in high school. Or was Wyatt lashing out at his dad’s rule? He seemed to be trying to fit in with kids his age. But that didn’t mean he could sneak out and play football when it had been forbidden.
Drew drove down Main Street. He’d have to figure out how to deal with Wyatt, but he also needed to check on Lauren. She’d been an emotional wreck on the phone. Drew turned into the parking lot behind her building.
“Don’t make me see Lauren now.” Wyatt cowered under his seat belt.
“You owe her an apology.”
Wyatt looked ready to cry. “I’ll tell her I’m sorry, Uncle Drew. But...but please let me do it tomorrow.” Tears slipped down his pale cheeks.
Drew almost refused, but he couldn’t. Wyatt seemed to be teetering on the same emotional edge as Lauren had earlier. Maybe it would be better for all of them if Drew smoothed things out with Lauren before bringing Wyatt over. With a loud sigh, he nodded. “First thing tomorrow. But I need to make sure she’s okay. She was very upset earlier.”
He didn’t trust Wyatt to leave him alone in the truck right now. If Lauren’s parents were home, they might not mind watching the kid for him while he checked on her. Unlike Wyatt, he couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
* * *
Lauren swiped the hair from her eyes and slid another shirt off the hanger. With jerky hands, she folded it and shoved it into the suitcase on her bed. Zingo found a seat on top of the jeans she�
��d stacked inside the suitcase.
She’d messed up. Always messing up. And it had taken another bad phone call to acknowledge what she’d known for months.
She wasn’t cut out for helping kids.
Not Wyatt.
Not Treyvon.
Not Jay.
And not any of the high school kids, either. She’d been stupid to even consider it. And Principal Gilbert would regret it if she hired her.
She’d put herself and her needs first today, and Wyatt had paid the price. Her throat constricted for the fiftieth time since discovering Wyatt was missing. Her fault.
All her fault.
It wouldn’t happen again.
And what about Drew? He’d depended on her, and she’d let him down. Visions of him smiling over coffee, eating breakfast together, the way he’d looked at her before kissing her—he deserved someone better. Not an imposter like her.
She’d known she was falling for him, but it wasn’t until she’d called him to tell him about Wyatt missing that she knew she’d gone and done it.
She’d fallen in love with him.
And she’d broken his trust and not guarded Wyatt.
The fact that Wyatt was okay had made her collapse in the chair and thank the good Lord, but what if he had been kidnapped? Or drowned? Or any other awful thing? She would never have been able to forgive herself.
She had to get out of Drew’s life. She loved him too much to disappoint him again. When he’d called her to let her know Wyatt was safe, she’d told him she was sorry. His reply had thrust a knife in her gut. “I am, too.”
Of course he was. Sorry he hadn’t listened to her all those weeks ago when she’d told him point-blank she wasn’t the person for the job. She crushed a blouse between her hands. She’d been trying to overcome her failures her entire life. She’d learned at a young age she had to be good. Or else.
Look at what it had gotten her. No stability in her early years, made fun of constantly during high school, head in the clouds with visions of saving people in college and years and years of heartache in Chicago.
Now this.
A knock sounded at her front door. She wadded up the blouse and scurried down the hall. Drew stood in the doorway.
Fall into his arms. Let him hold you. Let him tell you everything will be all right.
She did none of those things. Instead she pivoted and strode back to the bedroom with him at her heels. Carefully folding the blouse, she braced herself for what he was about to tell her.
“What in the world is going on?” He skewered her with his brown eyes.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re leaving.”
“Ding, ding. You win the prize.”
“Why?”
“I think we both know I can’t do this anymore.”
His eyes darkened to almost black. He looked like the warrior he was born to be. A rescuer. A leader. A hero.
But heroes saved the good guys, and she couldn’t bear to keep up this charade another minute. She’d been trying to be good for almost thirty years. It was time to throw in the towel.
She’d never be good enough for Drew.
Chapter Twelve
Drew took in the half-filled suitcase on the bed, the cat sitting inside it, hangers on the floor and dresser drawers open. The room looked ransacked. She sure was in a hurry to get out of there. Out of his life.
Pain stabbed his heart, and in that instant he knew. He loved her.
He loved this woman who brought sunshine to his days, who’d coaxed Wyatt out of his protective shell, who cared about everyone more than she did herself.
He loved her, and she was leaving.
“Where are you going?” He knew whatever she was about to say was going to make him bleed. His mind sped to the morning his college football coach had called him into the office and told him he’d been cut from the team. It had been the worst day of his life.
Until today.
Didn’t Lauren know this would destroy him?
He needed her. Wyatt needed her.
He shouldn’t have let himself fall in love with her. She’d always been too good for him. He didn’t deserve her, and he knew it. She must have finally realized it, too.
“I don’t know where. Away.” She set the blouse next to Zingo and returned to the closet.
She didn’t know where she was going? Sounded like she was escaping.
Escaping him. He didn’t blame her. He’d pushed and pushed her to help him with Wyatt, even after he knew it would be hard on her. Always thinking of himself.
“Wyatt’s with your parents,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “I hope that’s okay. I thought I’d better talk to you before bringing him over.”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “Mom and Dad are good in situations like this.”
He took the sweatshirt out of her hands. “Can we talk?”
“What is there to say?”
Was she being serious? His heart was thumping about a thousand beats per minute. “Let’s go to the living room. I can’t think with you packing.”
She nodded, leading the way, sitting on the edge of the couch, ready to spring up at any moment.
She looked fragile. His agitation subsided, replaced with calm. “Lauren, what’s going on?”
“I messed up.” Her words tumbled out quickly, nervously. She sounded about ready to cry. “The interview took too long, and I knew something was going on with Wyatt. I knew it. Ever since visiting Chase, he’s been acting secretive. I should have kept an eye on him. I should have rescheduled the interview for another time. I failed you. I failed him.”
“What? That’s crazy. This wasn’t your fault.” Drew moved to sit next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.
She jerked away, standing. “It is. I can’t do this anymore. You’re going to have to find another babysitter. I’m calling the principal and withdrawing my application. I’m not cut out for working with kids.”
His heart was already black and blue, and she’d only said a few words. How could he convince her to stay?
“Go back in there and unpack your suitcase. Wyatt is fine. He snuck out and rode his bike to the middle school because...well, I don’t entirely know why, but I do know it had nothing to do with you.”
She whirled to him, eyes stricken. “It has everything to do with me. I’ve been trained to look for signs, and all the signs were there, Drew. Sullen, scared, secretive. Spending too much time on that stupid iPod. I knew he was up to something, but I didn’t want to believe it. I can’t help anyone until I get my head out of the clouds. You think a parent is going to forgive me when I miss the signs their daughter was suicidal? No. It doesn’t work that way.” She hugged her arms around her waist.
He wanted to cup her face in his hands and make her look in his eyes and tell her he loved her and how much she meant to him. But she was ready to shatter. So he stayed put.
“There is nothing to forgive, Lauren. You give people hope. I don’t want you to be anyone but exactly who you are.”
“You say that, but you don’t know me, Drew. You don’t.” Her eyes flashed silver. “I’ve never been who everyone thought I was. I’m the daughter of a drug addict and a murderer.”
“You’re the daughter of the King. God Himself.”
She shook her head as if she didn’t want to hear it. “Remember that duffel bag I told you about? What I didn’t tell you is that I pulled a knife on a kid to get it back when I was six years old. Six! What six-year-old threatens someone with a knife? That foster home knew enough to get rid of me.”
Each word landed like lead in his gut. He could picture her, a beautiful little girl. His entire being revolted at what she’d been through. He closed the distance between t
hem.
“No six-year-old should have to defend her property herself. You should have had a mom and dad to protect you.”
“I did. Later.” The anguish gripping her face sent waves of pain through his chest. “They made me feel like I was good enough, but I’m not. I’m just not. I’m never going to be.” Her shoulders sagged. She looked drained.
Drew gently took her in his arms. He kissed the hair next to her ear and held her, but she didn’t hold him back.
“You’re too good, Lauren. You want to help everyone. I don’t know why you think you’re such a failure. You’re everything to me.”
She stepped back. “Don’t say that. I’m not. You can’t depend on me. I’ll let you down the same way I let everyone down.”
“You wouldn’t. You don’t.” How could he break through this crust of guilt encased around her heart? “I told you a while back I’m here for you. No matter what. That hasn’t changed. I...I promise.” He almost said the words I love you, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
“I don’t want your promise. I want to be alone.” The finality in her tone and the tremors in her arms concerned him. He was getting nowhere with her. He didn’t want to make it worse.
“I’ll let you be alone for now, Lauren, but I keep my promises. Wyatt had a choice today. He chose to do the wrong thing. Those kids you’re so upset about in Chicago? They had a choice, too. The older one could have said no to the gang. The younger could have stayed in his house where he belonged.”
“I should have—”
He raised his hand to cut her off. “You know what? You have a choice, too. You can give up on all that’s good about you, all that you bring to the world to make it better, or you can accept that life stinks sometimes, and you can keep trying. But I can’t force you.”
“Please go,” she whispered.
Did his promise mean nothing to her? Did he mean nothing to her?
