by Callie Rae
He scratches the top of his head and then squats down next to me. “Are you okay?”
I nod and continue to stare at him warily.
He jumps a bit as he holds his hand out. “Sorry. You’re probably wondering who I am.”
I nod again.
“I’m Detective Cruise. Are you Fallon?” He gives up on trying to shake my hand and retracts his own back to his side.
I nod again.
“Uh, yeah, so I’m running the investigation on your accident. I wanted to come by and get a follow-up statement, but it looks like you might be, er, preoccupied.”
“I already gave my statement at the hospital.”
“Yeah, I’m aware. It’s just a standard follow-up. I need to clear up a few things and then I can stick the file in the pile of closed cases.”
He gives me a smirk, one that just doesn’t feel quite right. I continue to stare at him, unwilling to say much more than what I’ve already said—especially with my gut telling me that something is off.
“Right.”
He reaches into his coat opening, and I tense until I see the small white card he pulls out.
“Oh, sorry. I just wanted to give you my card. Give me a call when you can come down to the station, yeah?”
I nod again.
He places the card on the grass next to me. “Would you like some help getting back into your chair?”
I nod my head. I grab the card and then manage to push myself up onto my good leg. He reaches over, pulling my chair closer so I can drop into it.
“There you are. I look forward to talking to you.”
He turns and walks back to his black unmarked vehicle. The only thing telling me his car is official is the light on the dashboard visible through the front glass.
I look down at the card.
Grayson Cruise. Detective. Cherry Creek Police Department.
Chapter 11
Fallon
I just want to be alone. Being around others quickly becomes overwhelming. Since my mom announced that this was my room, I've all but barricaded myself in here. Where it's safe. I only leave when the therapist gets here. She makes me stand at the kitchen sink for way too long, strengthening my leg.
They cleared me to go back to school next week, but I can’t fathom the idea of being around people. I’ve been acting like it’s not sneaking up on me. Like it’s not real. It’s my coping mechanism for everything right now. If I pretend it doesn't exist, it might go away.
Like this crack in my soul. If I pretend it doesn't hurt, then it might stop killing me slowly from the inside out.
A knock sounds at my door before it slowly creaks open. Catherine’s head pops in, and she scans the room until she finds me lying on the bed listening to music on my headphones.
I lift my head up and push back the headphones on one side. That's all the acknowledgement she’s going to get out of me.
“Hi, dear. The boys have a game tonight. I thought maybe you would like to go? Your mom is coming with us, and it might be good for you to get out and be around your friends.” Her smile is weak, but expectant all the same. "You know, like a test drive before you go back to school."
I look at her a moment longer and drop my head back to the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Pretend it doesn't exist.
“I think the boys might like to see you there.”
I wince. Cason said something the other night about the game. He didn’t ask me to come, but I could tell he wanted a bit of normalcy back into his life. Part of that normalcy would be me going to their games like I always did prior to my accident. But he was too afraid to push me any harder. He probably feels guilty for leaving me in my room stuck in my chair.
The accident.
I sigh.
Marcus.
I wince further as I remember the havoc I’ve caused in their lives. I turn my head to look over at Catherine, who still looks slightly hopeful.
“I’ll go,” I sigh out.
The school parking lot is packed as usual. The whole student body comes to support the basketball team. Hell, the whole town comes to support their team. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. I am not ready for this. This is normal and I can't do it because of what—
Parts of me died along with Marcus. I’m damaged goods, and everyone is going to see it the second they look at me, like it’s written on my forehead.
I keep rolling next to my mom and Catherine. We enter through the gym doors, and I spot Cason almost immediately. He’s warming up and when he sees me, and his eyes widen in shock. He had no idea that I would be here. Maybe I read him wrong. I don't usually, but everything is different now. I might have.
“Did they know we were coming?” I ask my mom and Catherine as they walk beside me.
My mom smiles. “No. We thought we might surprise them.”
Cason runs over to us to give Catherine a kiss on her head and my mom a hug.
“Where’s Jesse?” Catherine asks, looking over to the team running through drills.
“Uh, he…he’s not playing tonight. Coach didn’t want to tire him out since the state championship is coming up.”
The lie rolls so easily off his tongue. He eyes me as he speaks, and he knows. He knows I know he’s lying.
Nothing is real anymore. It's all a lie. It's all survival.
It's all falling apart.
“He didn’t tell me that earlier when I called,” Catherine says. “Oh, well. At least I get to see one of my boys play tonight.”
She pats him on the cheek. She and my mom head towards the bleachers to find a spot that can accommodate my chair. I start to follow, but Cason stops me.
“Fallon, wait.”
“You keep lying for him. You’ve seen my worst and all I get is your lies?” I snap through my teeth.
I regrip my wheels and begin to roll away. I hear him hiss, and the next thing I know, my chair stops.
"Cason, let go," I growl out.
The edges of my vision begin to narrow as rage pulses through me. I push on my wheels, trying to loosen his grip and get away.
“You’re right. And right now, this is my worst. But this? This is something you need to speak with him about. He quit ball, Fallon.”
This gets my attention, and I stop trying to get away from him.
He lets go and I roll an inch. I look over to him as he begins to back away. He holds up his hands, then turns and runs back to his team. The rage has left me as quickly as it flared, and I instantly become very tired. My body sags.
Jesse quit ball.
Jesse loves basketball. His dream has always been to play in college. Jesse wouldn’t quit unless…
Unless he felt he had to. Unless he’s protecting someone he loves. That's Jesse's only motivation for everything in his life.
He'll never fucking learn.
Chapter 12
Jesse
I temporarily quit playing ball. Tonight is the first time I’m not playing in a game since I started at Cherry Creek. It isn’t a big game. Not like state or anything. At least, that’s what I'm telling myself to get through this.
It’s a necessity. I have to play it safe with James. He needs to feel like I’m all in.
I told Coach I needed some time to figure shit out with Fallon being home. He didn’t call me on my bullshit, but Coach isn’t stupid. He knows something else is going on. He knows bigger things are at stake here. But he understood enough to let me walk away.
James has me on a project to help increase the amount of shipments coming in. He’s tasked me with figuring out how to get more containers on the barge to increase our profits. The end game for him is always money. I need to pitch him my ideas in the morning, which leaves me stuck at a desk late into the night instead of experiencing my senior year like I should be.
Who the fuck am I kidding? Senior year has been a shitshow right from the start. My life is a bad fucking joke.
I stayed late at the office tonight so I can run over a few mo
re things before I show him what I’ve come up with. But James is smart. He'll know if I half-ass my work, and that would both embarrass and anger him. He'll take that out on the people I care about, which means I can't afford to be sloppy, even when I don't really give a shit about the work.
It's strange that he wants to increase shipments coming in when they’ve already increased once this year. He didn't lose profits, but it didn't increase significantly enough to warrant another investment and increase so soon. He's been teaching me this shit since I was a kid, and this goes against every business practice he's ever taught me.
I look over the paperwork again but can’t find the container specs I need to pull in the idea. I know James has some in a file in his office, so I decide to grab them. No one’s here this late anyway, and James is usually working in his office by this time. He can get away with drinking his Scotch there.
I walk down the dimly-lit hallway, almost to the corner that leads to my father’s office, when I hear voices.
I’d thought I was alone. I’d watched the last person walk out the door and no one has come in since. Something's up.
I flatten myself against the wall as much as I can as listen. No one should be here. And guessing by the deep baritone voice, whoever this is, it’s definitely not Suzy from Accounting.
The voices get louder, sounding heated, so I take a moment to peek around the wall.
James's office door is open, and I have a direct line of sight to the front of his desk. His brown dress shoes are propped on top, with one foot shaking. But that's definitely not the interesting part of this scenario.
Two men are standing in front of James's desk dressed in black pants, black jackets, and white t-shirts. I have no doubt these are Vic’s guys standing in my father’s office. They have to be. The real question is what the fuck they’re doing here. They had no business being in there. I slip into a nearby office to get a little bit closer and hopefully hear what they are saying.
I peek through a slit in the door and that’s when I see him clearly. One of the men is the guard from the warehouse on the day of Fallon's accident. My hands begin to shake. My blood start to boil and my mind races through all the possible scenarios about why my father would have Vic's men in his office.
And then I hear it—the answer to all my questions.
“You were supposed to get rid of the problem, not make it worse,” James sneers. “Where is Vic? Why is he sending his goons instead of meeting me himself?”
The guy I don’t recognize responds. “We didn’t know the boy would get off track. And Vic just buried his nephew. He's in mourning.”
“Don’t give me that ‘in mourning’ bullshit. He hasn’t spoken to his sister in years, and he didn’t give a shit about his nephew,” James says. “Bringing them here was a mistake, and Vic can’t afford any more mistakes. You tell him if anything else goes wrong, I will drain every asset he owns. You got that?”
Silence follows his question, but someone must have accepted the threat because I hear footsteps coming down the hall. I slink back into the dark room, letting it camouflage me from their view as they pass by my door.
I don't need to hear more. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll lose all control and confront him. That won't help any of us. But one thing is sure: the man in that room is no longer my father. He's dead to me, and soon I will free everyone I love from his grasp.
I loosen my tie even further to take away the feeling of suffocation around my throat and breathe deep.
I always knew he was a heartless fucker, but I never realized he was a monster.
FALLON
The stands are packed. Our moms sit in the front row behind the team since I can't climb.
It doesn’t matter. The moment I found my way to my seat, I knew shit wasn’t going to be okay. I’m watching a game without the star player in the middle of a gym containing more people than I can count. I can feel the stares on me and hear the whispers. People don't hide it very well; I doubt they’re even trying. I can only wonder what they’re saying. What they think happened.
It’s not like Jesse would've given them a whole lot to go off. I’m sure Elizabeth has plenty to say. I’d bet any rumors I hear would lead me back to her.
Tingles start at the base of my neck. They spread until they wrap around my throat, making the air feel much thicker than I know it really is. My vision clouds, leaving me in a room that is more like a dream than reality. It tunnels and swims in and out of focus. I can hardly focus on the game or the people. It's like I've detached from myself.
That’s when I see it: the blur of a small child heading out through the gym doors. I’m not sure if it's me or if it’s my panic induced by the game that I never wanted to be a part of. But every single cell in my body is urging me to get out. To follow that child. To do it now.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” I need to maneuver out of my spot as best I can without worrying everyone around me.
“I’ll help you,” my mom offers and begins to stand.
“No,” I say quickly. “No, I can do it.”
I roll my chair out a little and wince. My hands are sore from pushing myself around. I regrip and push again.
“You sure?” my mom asks.
“Yes.” I breathe out once more and begin slowly pushing down the court.
My eyes are focused on the doors because I know if I look at anything else, I may lose my shit in front of the entire school. They have enough fodder for the gossip mill right now; I don't want to give them more.
Only a little bit farther, Fallon. You can do this, just like in the hospital.
I feel the tingle in my hands as my breathing comes faster. I try to speed up to get through the doors quicker, but I can hear the Jeopardy theme song in my head counting down and it doesn’t feel like I’m going to make it.
I push harder, rolling from the momentum and not my hands.
Three.
Two.
Almost.
I reach the open doorway and roll through, rounding the corner down the hallway and dropping my head back onto the chair. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. The panic subsides now that I'm away from the crowd.
I pull a shaky hand through my hair. My heart begins to settle as my breathing calms. I open my eyes and look around for the small child I saw come this way. The halls are empty and quiet except for my steady breaths.
I know I saw her. Where is she?
“Fallon?” The voice is that of a traitor, and I immediately turn my head toward it. “Are you okay? Are you looking for someone?”
I look Mira over. She looks tired. Miserable. Her eyes are puffy, like she’s been crying. Good. She deserves all of it. She deserves every bad thing that comes her way.
“What the hell do you want?” I wrinkle my nose at the stench of bitch.
“N-nothing, I was just in the bathroom.” She points to the bathroom door behind her. “Do you need help?”
“From you? Don’t you think you’ve helped enough already?” My palms begin to sweat.
She interrupted my waning panic only to make it worse than before.
“Helped? What did …” she mumbles as her eyebrows scrunch together.
I sit straighter and push my chair forward. “Please. Spare me the bullshit. Like you weren’t in on your precious boyfriend’s fucked-up plans. Do me a favor and drop dead. Both of you.”
I turn away, starting back toward the gym doors. It’s the last place I want to go, but if I stay here any longer, I’ll have to make a choice. Her or me.
“Jordan? Is that why?” Mira says in confusion.
Her act is quite brilliant; I almost believe her.
“Fallon, wait!”
“What the fuck do you want, Mira?” I grip the wheels tighter.
“Jesse, he—he asked me about Jordan. I didn’t know what he was talking about. Did Jordan … did Jordan do that?”
I turn my head back to her as she points toward my chair.
I look at her agai
n, more closely this time. There is real terror in her eyes, like she’s just realized how much of a monster her boyfriend truly is.
“He might as well have tried to kill me.”
Her hand covers her mouth as she gasps and tears begin to fall from her eyes. “I didn’t know, Fallon. I swear. I drove Narni home that night. I haven’t heard from Jordan since then. I thought he ghosted me.”
The fact that she didn't even second-guess my words tells me more than she realizes. Either she knew what he did, or she knew what he was capable of.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as she takes a step toward me.
I roll away from her.
“I want to believe you. I really do. But you have no idea what I’ve been through.” I swallow hard, hesitant to share anything more with her.
She nods her head. I glance through the doorway just as the crowd cheers, and I sigh.
“You were out here to get away from the game, huh?” she asks quietly.
I nod without looking at her. I’m definitely not going to tell her I came out here chasing what I think might possibly be the ghost of my dead daughter.
“Do you want to get out of here? I can take you home,” she says.
I turn back to her and study her face. She seems sincere, but I’m still wary of her intentions. I mean, her boyfriend did set me up to die.
“It’s just a ride,” she says. “Figured I’d offer since I’m not heading back in there.”
“You’re not here with anyone?” I ask, tilting my head in confusion.
She looks at the door and says quietly, “They won’t notice I’m gone.”
I consider her for a moment longer, realizing she was here alone. No one would notice her leaving because no one even knew she was here. Is that what happened to her after Jesse bombarded his way into my life?
“I could use a ride, but I’m not going home.”
She nods as I begin rolling my way toward the nearest exit.
It takes me a minute to get situated in her mom's silver SUV. She tosses my chair in the very back. I get strapped in, and once I do, Mira looks at me.
