by Cathryn Fox
We might be in fourth quarter, fourth down, a do-or-die situation, but we’ve come so damn far that if we can make the touchdown and get the one point conversion, I know Tanner can kick the ball for the win. I’d been working with him one on one for weeks, honing his raw talent enough that he can do this with his eyes closed. Lincoln might have come here expecting a win, but we sure as hell showed them what we’ve got.
Standing restlessly beside me, Coach is shifting from one foot to the other, fisting and relaxing his hands. “You think Jared can do this?” he asks, talking about the new play I’d just given them—one where I moved Jared from fullback to tailback to help with the defense. I glance at him, see the new fire in his eyes, one that was missing when I’d first stepped foot in his school and offered my services.
“He’s got this, Coach,” I say and check the stands. Scouts are watching and I want our boys to perform at their peak tonight. A few of them have a good chance at getting out of this hellhole and into college to make a better life for themselves and their families. As I scan the crowd, I get a glimpse of my little brother talking to a Phantom, and my blood burns hot. What the ever-loving fuck is he doing? Seeing red, I make a move toward him, but Coach puts his hand on my arm.
“Where you going?”
I scrub my chin. I don’t want to walk off the field and disappoint Coach when we’re this close to a win, but so help me, if Lucas is up to no good, I’m going to fucking kill him. I look at Coach, then my gaze tracks back to where I spotted Lucas. This time I find him climbing the bleachers with a buddy of his and finding a seat. He gives me a nod and a smile when he sees me, and I exhale, feeling a measure of comfort that he seems to be happy, and not in any sort of trouble. Maybe the exchange with the Phantom had to do with the service bay and needing bike work done.
Sara comes running up to her father. “Hey Dad, good luck,” she squeals.
He gives her a hug and a big knot of guilt sits in the pit of my stomach. He’s a good man, a good father, and I should have honored my promise to him, but now is not the time to be thinking about that. Not when our team is about to complete the last play of the night—of the season. At least I might be able to do right by Coach by giving him the win he’s been after for so long.
“Tyler,” Sara says, greeting me politely before taking a seat on the bleachers next to her mother. I smile at Mariam, and she smiles back. It’s easy to see where Sara gets her good looks. My mother said all us boys look like our dad, prick that he is. Still though, we all resemble one another, even though I think Lucas is far prettier than Alex or me. But I can’t think about that right now because the team is taking up position.
I toss a piece of gum into my mouth and chew hard enough to hurt my jaw as I pace the sideline, Coach tight on my heels. Jesus, I’m more nervous now then when I was playing all those years ago. Parents are cheering from the stands, and I exchange a look with Coach. I catch something in his eyes, something that resembles pride. We both nod, no words needed to say what we’re feeling, and I stare back out over the field, my throat a little tighter than it was before.
The QB calls the play and Tanner goes wide. The next thing I know, the ball is in the air. Tanner is running like a son of a bitch to get it, the monster linebacker about to plow him down, when out of nowhere, Jared sacks the guy, clearing the field for Tanner. The crowd goes nuts, but the loudest voice is Jared’s father, the cop I talked to after my bike had been stolen. I zero in on him, and when he looks my way, his thumbs up, I nod and smile. I do another quick scan of the crowd. The whole town has come out. I spot Cassie, my coworker, and Kaitlyn, along with some guy I don’t know. Even my mom and Gracie are in the crowd. I can’t help but think this is my chance to win back the trust of all those I disappointed. With my eyes back on the field, Jared makes a touchdown, then does a little victory dance.
“Yes,” I hiss under my breath, and beside me Coach lets out a whoop, then pats me on the back.
“Nice play,” he says. “Now Tanner has to make the conversion for the win.”
“He’s got this.” I shove my hands into my jeans. “Tanner,” I call out. He tugs on his helmet and turns my way. “You good?”
“Good, Coach,” he calls back and my heart is racing so goddamn fast I think I might break a rib. Winning this will mean so much. Not just for the kids and Coach, but it will go a long way in rebuilding the relationship between Coach and me. He took a risk by letting me on his team, and when I came back here, it was with the intention of never letting anyone down again.
The crowd goes quiet, a dull hum as the ball is lined up and Tanner prepares to take his kick.
“You got this, kid,” I say under my breath as his foot connects with the ball and it easily flies through the goal posts. Beside me, Coach makes a noise and for a minute I think he’s crying. I turn to him, but he averts my gaze. The team goes crazy, picking Tanner up and carrying him around. Mariam and Sara run up to us and my knuckles brush Sara’s as she waits to hug her dad.
My heart hammers when she sneaks me a look, the pride I see in her eyes taking me back to so long ago. She flicks her long hair back and I catch her sweet vanilla scent. Jesus, I fucking love her so much.
“Congratulations, Tyler,” she says.
“Thanks. The boys played great.”
“What are you guys doing to celebrate?” she asks, a twinkle in her eye that says she has ideas of her own.
I shrug and make eye contact with her father. He’s so excited about the win, he’s unaware of the tension between Sara and me. “Grab a beer? Nachos?”
“That sounds like a great plan,” Coach says. “How about we head to Lou’s?”
“Lou’s it is,” I say, as the boys rush the field toward us.
“Why don’t you both join us?” Coach says to his wife and daughter.
Sara nods. “Sounds like fun.”
The next thing I know, I’m being lifted in the air, the team tossing me around and cheering. Coach is laughing and holding his hands up when they try it with him. They shout and chant Collins Cheetahs as they carry me and by the time they let me down, Sara and Miriam have disappeared. I scan the crowd, disappointment taking up residence in my gut. But I do console myself with the knowledge that after our celebration at Lou’s, Sara and I will have our own private celebration at home.
Coach and I follow the team into the locker room, and he gives the boys a talk, congratulating them on their win and telling them not to party too hard tonight. They all laugh as he makes his way outside to talk to a few of the scouts. I give out handshakes and hugs to the guys, and slip out to let them continue with their celebration. I can imagine it’s going to be one hell of a party tonight.
I make my way to my car, and drive to Lou’s. I step inside and find Sara and Miriam at the table, in deep conversation. Sara is frowning, and Miriam looks sad.
“Ah, everything okay?” I ask.
“We just talking about Aunt Sandra,” Sara says and gestures to the other side of the booth. “I already ordered.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s slowly recovering,” Miriam, says, the sadness on her face expanding and I wonder if there is something else going on.
“If I didn’t have a big test to study for this weekend, I’d go with you to see her,” Sara says.
“No worries, honey,” Miriam says, and puts her hand over Sara’s. “Your aunt understands, and she wants you to get your degree.”
The beers and nachos arrive just as Coach is making his way inside, half the team’s parents following along behind him. His smile lights the place up as he saunters over and sits beside me, and across from his wife.
He pats me on the back. “Well done, son.”
Son.
The nacho I’m trying to swallow catches in my throat. Coach has not called me son…well, since I was taken away. My gaze collides with Sara, and holds. Clearly she’s picked up on the sentiment too.
Coach takes a sip of his beer. “Just like old times,” he says,
referring to our after-game get together when I played for him and dated his daughter.
Honest to God, sitting here with these three people, laughing and carrying on like the past never happened, is too good to be true.
I remind myself of the old saying: When it’s too good to be true…it probably is.
“Except you wouldn’t let me have beer back then,” I manage to say past a tight throat.
Everyone laughs, then Coach says, “I’m pretty sure it didn’t stop you.”
We fall into conversation but are interrupted every few minutes as parents and friends want to congratulate us. Before I know it, the night is late and Miriam is covering her yawn with her hand.
“We should get going,” she says to Coach.
“I suppose so.” He rubs his stomach, and then climbs from the booth. Across from him Miriam scoots out of her seat, leaving Sara and me still sitting across from one another.
“You coming, Sara?” her father asks.
She glances around the room. “No, I think I’ll hang out for a bit, play a game of pool.” Coach is about to say something when she says, “I’m a big girl, Dad. I can get home safely.”
His gaze goes to mine. “I’ll be sure she does,” I assure him, a small reminder that he’d asked me to look out for her and have every intention of doing just that.
He stands there a bit longer, like there’s a war going on inside him. I suppose there is. Does he leave his daughter with me, or force her to go with him? Like he said, watching over her and touching her are two different things.
“Come on,” Miriam says. “It’s still early. Let the kids stay and have some fun.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Mariam blows Sara a kiss and drags a reluctant Coach out the door. I catch Sara’s frown as she watches them go.
“What’s up?”
“Mom and I were talking about Aunt Sandra when you came in.”
“Yeah, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mom, but Sandra really isn’t doing well. She has a lovely little house in Indiana, a place where you can raise chickens. It’s not too far from the city center, either. Dad loves it there, and, since Uncle Leroy died a few years back and Sandra never had any kids of her own, she willed them both the house. They could go there now, after the school year ends if they wanted to. Dad can retire any time.”
“But they won’t go...” I say and let my voice trail off as my mind races with all the reasons keeping them here. Mainly, Sara.
“No, not if I’m still living here,” she says, confirming my suspicions.
I slide my hand across the booth and take hers into mine. I brush my thumb over her soft skin. “Do you love what you do at the bank?”
She snorts. “Not really. But I am finally completing my business degree. It was the push I needed.”
“Then what’s keeping you here, Sara? Why don’t you go with them, start over?” I say, despite the chaos in my stomach. I hate the thoughts of Sara leaving. Of never seeing her again, but I need her to do what’s best for her, which is why I agreed to this affair. Once she gets me out of her system, she can start fresh, and why not do it in a city that isn’t plagued with violence? I’d feel much better knowing she was living in a good place—even though it will gut me to watch her go.
“You want me to go?”
I shrug. “It’s not that I want you to go, it’s just that it sounds like a nice place and you always wanted out of here.”
“So did you,” she says.
I want to blurt out, let’s go together, but I bite my tongue. She asked for a bit of time with me, not a future, no matter how much I want that.
“Yeah, but it’s not too late for you, Sara. You don’t belong here.”
“Is it too late for you?” she asks.
I let her hand go and she slowly drags it back and places it on her lap, her big brown eyes latched on mine, searching, seeking answers. “You need to do what’s best for you. I’m a convicted felon and don’t factor in to that.”
Her face goes pale at that reminder, and she glances down at her hands in her lap. A slow second later, her head lifts.
“Ty.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to go home.”
So do I. Except there is no place I’ll ever be able to call home, not without Sara in it.
16
Sara
Sara
The end of November, and Thanksgiving weekend is upon us, which means I have no choice but to break out my winter jacket. I reach into my closet, and reluctantly grab my white down-filled parka. As I shrug into it, I glance at my clock, and the overnight bag I have packed on my living room floor.
There is a part of me that can’t believe Ty and I are driving to New York tonight to play tourist for the next few days before we return Sunday for dinner at his mother’s house. Yet there is another part of me that can totally understand my last minute decision to take him up on the offer. He’s an addiction I can’t seem to shake, but after this weekend, I’m hoping I’ll be able to do just that.
The truth is, up until yesterday, I hadn’t planned to go. No, I had every intention of having dinner with Mom and Dad tomorrow, and discussing Aunt Sandra’s house in Indiana and how we should proceed. But Aunt Sandra took a bad spell and they decided to spend the holidays with her. They’d wanted me to come, of course, but I politely declined. I begged off with the excuse that I had too much schoolwork to do. Not a total lie, I do have my books packed, although I have no idea when I’ll find the time to open them. Next weekend I’ll be past a few hard exams and can make the trip to Indiana to spend some alone time with my aunt.
When Gracie found out my folks would be out of town and I’d be spending Thanksgiving alone, she insisted I have dinner with her family come Sunday. It was just last month I said I wouldn’t be able to make it—had zero intentions of ever trying. Yet so much has changed since I began this journey of healing with Tyler. Which is why I’m gifting myself with this one last intimate escape with him, hoping deep in my gut that I manage to overdose on him and come Monday morning, I’ll have the strength to walk away without the need to look back.
My door opens and I turn to see Tyler walk in like he owns the place. He’s grinning as he shoves the key I’d finally given him into the front pocket of his low slung jeans. The smile that curls his beautiful, kissable lips when his gaze lands on me, damn near shatters me.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his eyes bright and alive like he’s five again and Santa just arrived. I put that look on his face last night when I finally agreed to this trip. But I sense that he knows this is a turning point for us too, that this weekend is about closure. After all, he was the one who suggested I leave with my folks.
He crosses the room, and his familiar scent of man and leather fills my senses. His head dips and he brushes his lips over mine, light enough to make me want more, but firm enough to let me know he’s ravenous for me.
“All set?” he asks, when he breaks the kiss.
I stifle a yawn, and groan. “I’m ready, but not looking forward to a long night of driving.”
“I can drive the whole way and you can get some sleep. I don’t mind.”
“No,” I say. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to be awake when you are.” He nods in understanding. “What did you tell your mom?”
“That I was going away with a friend.” A shrug and then, “Not a lie.”
My heart beats a little faster. This affair was supposed to be kept under wraps. The last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt. “She knows, doesn’t she?”
“Hard not to, I guess.”
I give a slow shake of my head, and pray to God we all come out of this unscathed. “At least we’ve been able to keep this from my Dad.”
“I’m not sure we have, Sara,” he says, and touches my cheek. “One look at us and…you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He bends and grabs my bag, and I scoop my purse off my ta
ble. “We better hit the road if we want to grab a few hours sleep before the parade starts.” We step into the hall, and I lock up tight behind us. “I’ve never been to the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade before,” I say as I follow him outside. The wind bites at me, and he drags me to him and puts his arm around my body to warm me as we make our way to his car.
“Same.”
“I think it’s going to be fun.”
“You’re still up for the skating on the rink at Rockefeller?” he teases as he opens my car door for me.
I roll my eyes at him. “I fell once, Ty. Once!” I shoot back, my mind racing to the time we both went skating when we were at Penn State and I landed, with an undignified thud I might add, on my ass. “What about you, you still up for a tour of the Empire State Building?”
He cringes at the reminder of his fear of heights. “Touché,” he says and closes the door.
He puts my bag into the trunk and climbs in beside me. I look at him, waiting for him to start the car, but he goes quiet for a moment, and stares straight ahead at the dark road like he’s lost in thought. I’m about to ask if he’s okay, when he turns to me, slides his hand around my head and drags my mouth to his for a deep, yet tender kiss.
I have no idea what’s going through his head, but when he breaks the contact, my heart nearly breaks right along with it. He turns the ignition over and I try to settle in for the long night ahead. Ty turns the radio down as I nestle into the seat beside him, but I have no intention of drifting off to sleep. I need to make these last days with him count.
We fall into an easy conversation for the ride, and watch the signs fly by as we cut across states. My lids grow heavy, but I suck in a few deep breaths and force myself to stay awake. The hours tick by, and I unfortunately find myself dozing off. A car horn wakes me fully, and when I blink and look around at the increasingly heavier traffic, it’s clear we’re approaching Manhattan. We’re well into the wee hours of the morning, and the city is still alive around us as he pulls his car up to our hotel. Ty wanted to make all the arrangements for the trip, and I certainly didn’t think we’d be staying at such a posh place. I read the sign. Hilton Midtown.
