by Celia Aaron
Cordy’s grip tightened on mine. “From what he’s told me, yes.”
“Mom, say what you came to say. Stop playing games.”
She leaned back, her eyes never leaving Cordy’s face. “I’d rather discuss family business without an audience.”
“She’s staying. You may as well spit it out.” I hadn’t come this far with Cordy to turn my back on her. Either my mother would accept both of us or neither.
Mom huffed. “Trent, you are already treading on thin ice. I suggest you don’t push me any farther than—”
“Mom, I’m never going to marry Carlotta.” My voice was devoid of the usual anger I carried over this subject. Instead, it was matter of fact. “I don’t want to see her, much less take her on a date. I choose Cordy. I should have chosen her two years ago, but you got your way then. You aren’t getting it now.”
“I don’t think you understand your situation.” She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her fist. “If you decide to take up with this coal town girl, this apartment?” She looked around with a dramatic sweep of her head. “Gone. Your trust fund? Gone. Your connections from the Carrington family name? Gone.”
Cordy shifted, discomfort in every move. “I don’t think I should stay—”
“Yes, you should.” I stood and pulled her up with me. “I want you to hear this.”
Staring down at my mother, I realized how much she’d changed in just a few short years. Her hair was whiter and her body thinner. Despite her age, she still had the same iron in her spine. She never bent for anyone, and I didn’t expect her to change for me. Problem was, I was my mother’s son. The same iron running through her was also part of my makeup. I hadn’t realized it until my father died, but I was just as strong as she was. “This is it, Mom. Either you accept us and make an effort to get to know Cordy, or you and I are done.”
Mom stood, too, hell in her dark eyes. “I don’t need to get to know her, Trent. I already do! How many women do you think chased after your father? Plenty, I can tell you. And they weren’t after him. They were after his name, his money.” She pointed a bony finger at Cordy. “This girl is no different. She comes from nothing. You’re a golden ticket to her. Your name, your future, your chance at the NFL, all the money—don’t be stupid.” Her voice rose with each venomous word. “A climber, an opportunist, that’s all she is. Why can’t you see that?”
“It’s time for you to go.” I walked to the front door, Cordy at my side.
“Trent, I’m warning you. If you do this, there is no going back. I won’t stand for this kind of disobedience. If your father was alive—”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this!” I snapped. “He actually cared about what I wanted. The only reason he went along with you two years ago was because the cancer had made him too sick to fight. You took advantage of that.” I hurled the most hurtful words I could find. “He was the only thing that ever made you bearable. I don’t know how he stood you for as long as he did. He was warm and vibrant, but even he couldn’t survive you.”
“Trent.” Cordy squeezed my arm and shook her head. “Don’t.”
It was too late. I’d already said what I wanted.
Mom gave me a look so wounded—her dark eyes open wide, showing me both her shock and grief—that regret washed over me.
But the damage was done. I thought if I finally stood up to her and got back at her for making me choose Carlotta two years ago, I’d feel lighter, as if I’d put the past to rights. Instead, the weight of what I’d said crushed me. I’d gone too far.
“Mom, look—”
“No.” She tilted her chin up, though I’d seen the rare sparkle of tears in her eyes. “You’ve said quite enough. You can keep the apartment until you graduate. Other than that, we’re finished.”
She snatched her bag and left, slamming the door behind her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CORDY
MY STOMACH TWISTED INTO knots as I stared at my brunch. Last night had been a mess, and given that Landon was nowhere to be seen in the caf, this morning didn’t look to be much better. I put my elbows on the table and cradled my head in my hands.
Trent had been quiet after the scene with his mother. I could tell he was hurting, but he kept trying to put on a brave front about it. We sat and watched football for the rest of the day, but his gaze kept wandering. He was lost in his thoughts, and I couldn’t do anything to bring him back.
His mother had been just as unpleasant as I’d expected. What I hadn’t expected was Trent’s reaction. She’d snubbed me, sure. But Trent took his response a lot further. Though his mom and I weren’t on a good footing, I pitied her. The sorrow in her eyes at his words was almost palpable. Something was broken between them, and I hoped there was some way it could be repaired.
I scrubbed my temples with my palms, fatigue washing over me. Trent had tossed and turned most of the night, keeping me awake. The familiar sounds of the caf were some comfort, at least. Friendly voices, laughter, and chatter wafted to me from the cliques scattered around the dining area.
The loneliness at my table made me realize I should have tried harder to get to Landon. A month without him felt like a piece of me was missing.
I sighed and looked up, hoping to find him sitting across from me with his signature smirk. He wasn’t there, and my food had grown cold as I waited. Either Ellie hadn’t asked him to meet me, or he refused to show. I pulled my phone out and texted him—another in a long list of unanswered missives.
Landon, please come and meet me. I miss you.
My phone remained silent as I stared at it, willing Landon to reply. I picked at my waffle for a few more minutes, then downed my orange juice. My phone beeped. I grabbed it so fast I fumbled it.
Are you a family member?
I gawked at the phone, beyond confused. Had Landon changed his number and not told me? I texted back.
What? This is Cordy Baxter.
A few moments after I hit “send,” my phone rang. Landon was calling.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Baxter?” A man’s voice, and definitely not Landon’s.
Fear trickled down my spine like ice water. “Yes, who is this? Why do you have Landon’s phone?”
“This is Detective Monroe from Billingsley PD. Are you friends with Landon Garnet?”
Panic rose inside me like floodwaters. “Why do you have his phone? Is he okay? What’s going on?”
“He’s okay. A runner found him near his dorm. He’d been beaten pretty badly. He’s still out, under sedation until he recovers a bit. I’m here with him at Mother of Mercy.”
All the blood drained from my face. “Oh my God. What happened?” I rose and snatched my bag before darting out of the caf.
“We don’t know. Someone jumped him, it seems. Does he have any enemies you know of?”
I ran across the quad, heading for Hope Hall and my car. “I can’t think of anyone, no. He’s a nice guy. Everyone likes him.”
“His parents said the same. They’re getting on a plane and heading down right now. Do you know of anyone else I could ask?”
“Ellie maybe. She’s my roommate. They’ve been dating, I think.” My lungs hurt and my eyes watered, but I ran as fast as I could, not caring that I was panting into the phone.
“I’ll call her next. I was going through his contacts when you texted.”
“What room is he in?”
“Three twenty-three.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I hung up, topped the hill, and started the downward stride to my car. Then I hit Trent’s speed dial. I explained everything to him as I made it to my car.
“Come to my apartment. We’ll go together.”
“I have to get to him.” I couldn’t think for the icy grip of fear on my heart.
“Cordy, with the way you sound, you might get into a wreck driving there. I’ll come get you.”
“No time.” I cranked the engine.
“Then come
here first. It’s on the way.”
“I—”
“I’ll be downstairs waiting. Be careful.”
“Okay.” I gunned it down University and made it to Trent’s place in under five minutes.
He was waiting outside as promised. I got out and ran around to the passenger side as he slid into the driver’s seat. He drove even faster than I did, but I wasn’t afraid.
Wiping a tear from my cheek, he asked, “They have any suspects?”
“No. When he wakes up—” I choked on a sob.
“Baby.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “He’s going to be fine.”
I took a deep calming breath as Trent blew through a red light when there was no cross traffic. “He’ll wake up, and then he can tell us who.”
My phone rang, and I jumped. It was Ellie.
“Have you heard?” Her voice had the same edge of panic as mine.
“I’m on the way there now.”
“Me too. I’m just leaving campus.”
“Shit.” I could’ve picked her up at Hope Hall, but I wasn’t thinking straight.
“What?”
“Nothing. Do you know who it was?”
“No idea. He had beef with his last roommate, I think, but he’s gone.”
“Yeah, he’s in California now.” I shook my head and tried to focus on suspects. “Maybe a boyfriend of one of his girls?”
“He’s only been seeing me the last few weeks.” She sniffled.
“Maybe one of them found out about a past hookup or something?”
“Cordy, I have to concentrate. My eyes keep watering, and driving is hard.”
“Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you there.” We hung up, and I chewed my lip as Trent raced into the hospital parking lot.
I jumped out and hurried through the front door. He led me to the elevator, and I felt like I was back in West Virginia, waiting on bad news about my father. This time it was Landon. My legs felt weak, and I leaned on Trent. He wrapped a strong arm around me and held me as we rode the elevator to Landon’s floor.
My steps quickened as we approached his room. My breath caught in my throat, and I would have fallen if Trent hadn’t pulled me to him. Landon’s face was covered in purple and dark gray bruises. Both eyes were swollen shut. Gauze was wrapped around his chest, black and blue skin peeking out from beneath the white fabric.
A man stood at the foot of the bed, his hair salt and pepper and his demeanor no-nonsense.
“Ms. Baxter?”
“Y-yes.” I walked to Landon and took his limp hand.
“I’m Detective Monroe. We spoke on the phone. And this is?” He must have been speaking to Trent. All I could see was Landon’s battered face.
“Trent Carrington. I’m Cordy’s boyfriend.”
“Quarterback, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mind if I take a look at your hands?”
“Sure, I guess.” Trent didn’t sound so sure.
I heard the shuffle of feet as I stroked Landon’s sandy hair off his forehead. His breathing was even and steady. I cried silent tears and clasped his hand between mine.
Trent held his hands out for the detective. “What are you looking for?”
“These look fine.” Detective Monroe cleared his throat. “Whoever did this to Landon will have some signs on them. Busted knuckles, for starters. Yours are clean.”
“Wait, you thought I—”
“I’ve heard you and Landon had a little dustup over Ms. Baxter. I had to check. I’m sure you understand.”
“I guess.” Trent stood behind me, his hand on my shoulder.
“It’s fine.” I didn’t look at them. “Trent would never do something like that.” But I knew someone who would. Nausea washed over me. “You need to talk to Ethan Granger. He and Landon got into a scuffle at the field a few weeks ago.”
“Over what?”
“Me.” I couldn’t look away from his battered face. Guilt covered me like a fine layer of soot. If Ethan had done this, I had no doubt it was to get at me somehow.
“I’ll check in with him. Thanks.”
“No other suspects?” Trent asked.
“I was hoping Landon would wake up and give me a name. Problem is, he doesn’t have any defensive wounds. His knuckles are fine. I suspect he was jumped from behind and didn’t have a chance to fight off his attacker. They took his wallet. Left his phone. We’ll know more as the day goes along. I’ve sent some uniforms over to his dorm to ask if anyone saw or heard anything.” His phone chirped. “Excuse me for a moment.” He stepped out, and we were left with Landon.
“He’s going to be all right.” Trent rubbed my upper arms. “He’s a tough guy.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know enough.” He kissed the crown of my head.
We sat in silence for a while, the sound of Landon’s breathing and random words from Detective Monroe’s conversation in the hall, the only sounds.
“What’s he saying?” I tried to cock my ear to listen.
“Not sure. I think it’s on another case.”
“Oh.” I stroked Landon’s hand. “Hey, Landon. Can you hear me?” I kept my words soft, though I was desperate for him to wake. An irrational fear that he wouldn’t settled in my stomach. “Landon?”
He stirred, his eyelashes fluttering until his eyes opened into swollen slits, then closed again. He tried to shift in the bed. A groan rasped from his throat, and he opened his eyes as far as he could again.
“Fuhyoulookat?” His words slurred from his busted lips.
Relief washed over me. “Landon, you’re in the hospital. Someone hurt you. Do you remember?” I leaned closer, trying to find the color of his eyes beneath the dark, swollen skin.
“Water.”
“I’m on it.” Trent hustled from the room.
Landon closed his eyes and gave my fingers a weak squeeze.
“I’m so sorry.” I kissed the back of his hand. “But there’s a detective here. He’s going to arrest whoever did this to you.”
Trent returned with a pitcher and a small white Styrofoam cup. “Here.” He poured a cup and slid a straw into it before handing it to me.
I put the straw to Landon’s lips. He managed to get a few good draws before coughing. Water dribbled to his chin. I wiped it with my sleeve and gave him more until he signaled he was finished. Trent took the cup, and I scooted closer to my friend.
He winced as he turned toward me.
“Who?” I burned with the need for retribution against whoever had done this to him.
“I didn’t see him.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Tackled me from behind, then everything went black. Woke up here.”
“Any clue who would do it? You piss anyone off lately?”
He tried to smirk, but his swollen lips wouldn’t cooperate. “Always.”
“Anyone bad enough to want to hurt you?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes closed. “I’m tired.”
“It’s the drugs.” I squeezed his fingers.
Loud footsteps in the hallway had us both turning toward the door. Ellie burst in and rushed to Landon’s bedside.
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God.”
Trent backed up so she had room to sit with Landon. “The detective said he’s going to be okay.”
Ellie sank down on the other side of the bed and carefully took Landon’s left hand. The one with the IV in it. She leaned up and kissed his mottled forehead. The movement was almost too intimate, and I felt as if I was intruding.
“Landon.” Ellie’s voice was soft.
He turned toward her, his face wrenching into a pained mask as he did so. She ghosted her lips across his and settled back at his side as he fell into a peaceful sleep.
Ellie wiped her eyes. “Do they know who did it?”
“No. Landon woke up for a few minutes and talked, but he didn’t see who hit him. He just remembers being tackled and then waking up here.”
“Why?�
�� The question caught in her throat.
“They don’t know.”
She ran her hand down his chest and inspected the bruises on both sets of ribs. “Jesus Christ. They could have killed him.”
“He’s going to be okay.” I said it mechanically, because I didn’t feel it. Looking at him in the bed, so weak and helpless, made worry creep into my veins and rage at whoever had hurt him bubble in my mind.
Trent gently tugged me to my feet. “Let’s give them a minute.”
I resisted his attempt to pull me from the room. I couldn’t leave Landon like this.
Ellie didn’t look up. “I’ve got him. I’ll call when he wakes up again.”
I stared at him, willing him to recover. Ellie ran her fingertips across his forehead, an intimate touch that reassured me. He was in good hands.
“I’ll stay with him.” Her voice was soft.
“Come on.” Trent steadied me with a strong arm and walked me from the room.
In the hallway, Detective Monroe leaned against the wall and texted furiously.
“Ethan?” I hugged myself.
He paused and shook his head. “I spoke to him briefly. He has an alibi for last night. His roommate vouched for him. But I’ve got a uniform checking into it all the same. I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.”
“Thanks, Detective.” Trent led me away and out of the hospital.
I was in a daze as I got into the car. If it wasn’t Ethan, then I was out of ideas. Did the theft of Landon’s wallet mean it was just a random act of violence? If so, why had the thief beaten him so badly? I had no answers, just a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I hadn’t realized we’d parked in front of Trent’s apartment until he opened his door. Then he walked around and opened mine. I climbed out.
“Come upstairs and decompress.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.” He took my hand and led me to the elevator. “And this plus dealing with my mother would put anyone on edge.”
I snuggled into his side, breathing in his familiar scent as we rode up to his floor. He scooped me up into his arms.
“I can walk.” Even as I said it, I threw my arms around his neck.
