Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance

by Lindsey Iler

  “Mr. Davenport?” Mr. Chambers growls, fire in his voice. He’s ready to burn me alive. His face reddens to match his voice. “Perhaps we should worry more about our own blood.”

  And there it is . . . the threat I’ve expected since I heard Mr. Chambers say a name I’d prefer never to hear again. I dip my chin, unwilling to give him another morsel of my energy and storm out of the office.

  In the entryway, Delaney and Ginger are leaning against the railing.

  “What did you do?” Delaney asks.

  “We had a nice conversation,” I lie, grabbing her hand and drawing her tight against me.

  Ginger watches us. She knows I was eavesdropping, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she grabs me in a hug.

  “Take care of her. Whatever the cost, don’t let her be swallowed up again.” Her words are sincere. Reality hits me hard when she lets me go, and tears are begging to fall from her aged eyes.

  “I got her.” I grab Ginger’s hand and squeeze it, hoping she understands how fiercely I’m fighting for Delaney.

  “We better get going,” Delaney announces.

  A loud crash comes from Mr. Chambers’ office. I like to imagine him feeling the walls closing in on him and his days numbered.

  “Get out of here,” Ginger instructs, rushing us to the door. We are barely outside when Mr. Chambers screams for her.

  The door slams behind us, the glass rattling with the building tension inside the walls. Once we are out of the driveway, I put my phone on the console between us.

  I tap a button on the steering wheel, waiting for the prompt to speak my request. Beep.

  “Call Marek’s cell,” I say, glancing at Delaney. She’s picking at her chipped nail polish.

  The phone rings five times, and he answers it on the sixth.

  “What’s up, Break?” Marek says. In the background, Palmer is demanding to have the phone. “Will you chill out, woman?”

  “I need you to call the gauntlet,” I explain. “Tomorrow night at eleven. I can’t do it myself because I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “Where at?”

  “Hollow Hills football field,” I answer, hating that I’m stooping to this level.

  “You sure about this?”

  “Tell Madison.” I hang up before he can try to convince me otherwise.

  I’m not sure what the connection is between Delaney’s family and mine, but I am certain the DuPonts are heavily involved in some way. Since I can’t control ours, there is one thing I can do. Tripp DuPont. If Delaney’s father hadn’t been so insistent on her dating Tripp, I wouldn’t think anything of it. But one reason a man would force a relationship on his daughter is connections with money.

  “Where are we going?” Delaney asks.

  “I need to go see my sisters,” I answer, numbly driving the roads like it’s a routine until we are out of the city limits.

  The trees pass by in a blur.

  “What happened?” I give her more silence than she likes. I can practically feel her seething. “Barrett Davenport, you need to tell me now, because your driving is kind of scaring me.” She smacks my hand. “When it comes to you, silence isn’t a good sign, so I’m going to need an explanation.”

  “Did you find anything?” I blatantly ignore her question, which pisses her off more.

  “I did, but let’s talk about what went down before we move onto it, shall we?” I glance over and see her arms crossed over her chest. She has one knee tucked on the seat, and she’s staring at me with expectant, trusting eyes.

  “I haven’t told you much about my father, have I?” I start off. Easing into this subject is the safest way to do this without letting my anger explode on the wrong person.

  “All I know is he treated your mom pretty poorly.”

  “Poorly is an understatement. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. He’s all but given my aunt custody of my sisters, but he’s asking to see them again.”

  “Why, after all this time?”

  “I’m not sure, but as I get closer to graduating, I have a lot of decisions to make about my mom’s foundation.”

  “What’s her foundation?”

  “The Davenport Foundation,” I say, remembering the excitement and pride she had for the work she did. “The public has no idea that the woman who fought so hard for women and children in dire situations, was living her own.”

  “She helped domestic violence victims?”

  “That, and any young girl who found herself in a peculiar situation.” I nod, remembering the blood, sweat, and tears she’d put into her work. “We had a revolving door of young women who needed a safety net. It was never a big surprise to sit across from a stranger during the holidays because Mom couldn’t help herself. She had a giving heart.”

  “My guess is your father didn’t like it?” Delaney grabs my hand. I look down at her small fingers mingled with mine. There’s so much faith that I won’t hurt her in that small move.

  “He hated it, resented her for it.”

  “Is that why the abuse started?”

  “No, that was his excuse, a reason to justify it in his own head, by placing the blame on my mom for laying more stress on his plate.”

  “So, what does your father have to do with what happened in my father’s office?” Delaney asks.

  There’s the big question, the one I’ve had since I heard his name trickle from Mr. Chambers’ mouth. I slow to a stop at the fork in the road and slide the gear shift into park. Leaning my head against the headrest, I stare out the windshield. The road is dark. Light shines down through the sky-high trees, exposing the moon’s presence.

  My eyes close. I hope I’m wrong but know damn well I’m not. My neck rolls, and once I’m facing her, I slowly open them, exposing me to the hurt on her face.

  “Our fathers are in business together,” I say. “Whatever the game is, my mom’s foundation is mixed up in it.”

  “Tell me that’s not true,” she says, assuming my own worries.

  “Your dad said his name. He was talking on the phone, Delaney. He threatened my sisters.”

  “My father?” She clutches at her shirt, discomfort invading her body. “He threatened your sisters?”

  “In fewer words, but yes. He told me to worry about my own blood and a little less about you.”

  “What does that mean?” Delaney’s eyebrows scrunch together.

  “My father’s after the foundation. My Aunt Emily told me at my last visit. I’m not so sure as to why. It doesn’t bring in much money, but I assumed it was because of me. I’m next in line to take over. When my mother passed, the board voted for someone to take over until I was ready, if I ever wanted to be ready. My aunt’s been running it, but it’s not hers, or at least she doesn’t feel like it is.”

  “Are you going to?” Delaney asks. “Take over?”

  “There’s one thing I need to happen, and that’s for the foundation to run smoothly until my sisters are older. It’s theirs, their rightful place, and I’ll protect that, even if it means I need to step in until they’re ready.”

  “Does your dad have the ability to steal it out from under you?”

  “I’m sure he believes he does.” I grip the gear shift, slide it down to drive, and press on the gas pedal to finish the drive to my aunt’s house.

  When the house comes into view, Delaney’s eyes widen. “This is where you grew up?”

  “We all grew up like this.” I laugh, parking and killing the engine.

  Delaney shuts the passenger door and gawks. “Yeah, no, it’s not about the size. It’s straight out of a storybook.” Her eyes glisten with wonder.

  I lean against the hood and stare at the same house Delaney’s seeing.

  A beautiful story is waiting to be told within these walls. Man, I miss my mom.

  “She was right.” Delaney wraps her hands around my waist, making me realize I’ve said it out loud.

  “That’s what she said when she first showed me the house.” I shake my
head, suddenly overcome with grief.

  “It’s okay to miss her.” She kisses the underside of my chin. “Now, you plan on introducing me to your sisters or what?”

  I’ve never had a girlfriend, not like this. Hell, Delaney and I haven’t even had the conversation, but as we walk up to the house, her hand in mine, that’s what this feels like.

  The door swings open, and Charlie appears, her hands on her hips and an attitude tweaking at the corner of her mouth.

  “What are you doing here? When we said to come back, we didn’t mean this soon.”

  “Very funny.” I walk past her and Delaney follows. Before I make it very far, skinny arms wrap around my waist, holding on for dear life. Her little face presses into my spine. “You okay?” I grab her tightly bound hands on my stomach, spin around, and duck down to her height.

  “Dad wants to see us,” she says, tears forming in her eyes. I clutch her to my chest. “We don’t have to go, do we?”

  I caress her hair, trying to calm her. “I’ll figure it out, okay?” I promise, knowing I will never let anything happen to her. She won’t know the pain I did.

  Aunt Emily enters the foyer, watching Charlie in my arms. Her eyes shift behind me to Delaney, a stranger in her home.

  In typical Delaney fashion, she circles Charlie and me, offering her hand to my aunt. “I’m Delaney Chambers, Breaker’s”— she pauses for a split second— “I’m his girlfriend.”

  I grin, tightening my lips, making them practically disappear. Charlie must see the amusement in my eyes because she giggles.

  “Breaker has a girlfriend. Breaker has a girlfriend,” Charlie singsongs.

  “Wait, Breaker has a girlfriend?” Tatum comes down the stairs. Her twin sense must have been on high alert. “Are you okay, Charlie?”

  “Dad stuff,” Charlie answers and releases her hold on me. She squares her shoulders, acting tougher than she is.

  “That’s why I’m here, Aunt Emily. Can we talk?” I ask her.

  “Sure, honey. Why don’t you girls take Delaney into the den and try not to embarrass your big brother, huh?”

  Side by side, Tatum and Charlie walk out of the room. I kiss Delaney on the cheek. “I won’t be long.”

  “Take your time.” She smiles and follows the girls.

  “She’s pretty,” Aunt Emily says.

  “She’s far beyond pretty.” I gaze in the direction she’d disappeared. My Aunt Emily is grinning from ear to ear. “What?”

  “Nothing. I never thought I’d see the day.” She chuckles, heading through the foyer, straight for the kitchen.

  “What are you getting at?” I trail behind her and jump up on the island, picking at the friendship bread warm from the oven. The gooey cinnamon dough is delicious.

  “Come on, Breaker. You know what I mean. You may be at that school, but I’m fully aware of who you are. People talk.”

  “Please elaborate.” I pop another piece of candied bread into my mouth.

  “What happened with that Weston girl,” she starts. “You don’t exactly toe the line with morally correct behavior, and neither do any of the kids at your school. We, as the adults, are to blame. We’ve thrust you into this cruel lifestyle, where greed and power reign over all. It’s no wonder you sometimes do things that are corrupt.”

  “Aunt Emily.” I beg out her name, hoping she understands my worry in her belief in me.

  “No, it’s okay, Breaker, because deep down I know who you are. You’re the boy who stands up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. You’re protective to a fault to those who have earned that special kind of loyalty, and those that haven’t, well, they deserve their fate.”

  “Like my father?” I inquire.

  “If it’s his time to pay, then yes.” She shrugs, nonchalantly. She’s never been a fan of my father. She once told me she’d warned my mother of the type of man she had decided to marry. Unfortunately, sometimes the ones that love us most see things we aren’t willing to see ourselves. For my mother, it’s too late.

  “When’s the meeting with the girls and him?” My palms start to sweat, and tension laces up and down my arms. The very thought of that man sitting across from them, rips at places inside of me.

  “Two days.” Her mouth drops open like she wants to say something else, then her shoulders slump in defeat. “I couldn’t stop it from happening. I tried.”

  “The courts are playing in his favor.”

  “Technically, he has every right to see them. In the court’s eyes, he has full legal rights to them, Breaker. I have them because he gave them up.”

  “That has to be worth something.” My anger grows, and unable to sit still, I jump down from the counter and pace in front of the large window facing the rear of the property. “Right? He can’t bail on them and suddenly decide to reinsert himself into their lives as if nothing happened. He can’t, can he?”

  “Breaker, when it comes to families, the legal system is difficult.”

  “But they’re yours. She would have wanted them with you where she knew they are safest!” I yell. The tightness in my chest aches harshly. I clutch at the pain, trying to regulate my breathing, but there’s no hope.

  “Take a deep breath, Breaker. It’s going to be okay.”

  “What if he wants to take them?”

  “My guess is it has nothing to do with them, and everything to do with you.” She clenches her teeth tight before explaining. “He knows you would never let them see him alone.”

  He’d be right about that. I have no intentions of letting him waltz into their lives as if our past isn’t completely wrapped up in our present.

  Scenarios and explanations run through my mind. I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen my father since my mother’s funeral. He was next to me, clutching my shoulders as they lowered her into the ground. Calum Davenport is a professional at looking the part for everyone on the inside. As I watched the casket move lower and lower, I stood idly by, knowing he had been the catalyst for her death.

  “He’s after the foundation, and I think it has something to do with Delaney’s dad.”

  “What makes you believe that? Let’s not start making assumptions without proof,” she warns. “We don’t want to jump to conclusions, Breaker. He’ll do everything in his power to discredit you and those around you.”

  “Earlier today, when we were at the Chambers’ house, I overheard Mr. Chambers say Calum during a phone conversation,” I explain.

  “Because you heard your father’s name, doesn’t mean it’s him.” She’s trying to lessen the destruction. It’s what she’s always done. She’s a master of this.

  “Mr. Chambers mentioned a foundation,” I say, solidifying the proof I have.

  Aunt Emily walks around the kitchen, not uttering a single word. She takes out skillets and pans, followed by ingredients. Her lips move as if she’s having a silent conversation. Is she trying to figure out what to say to me, or trying to collect her own thoughts?

  “Mr. Chambers and your father . . .” She looks up from the mixture of ricotta cheese and green leafy herbs she’s stirring.

  “What, Aunt Emily?” I place my hand over hers, stopping her from having any distraction but the one I’m trying to create. “What’s the link? What am I missing? Because all year, I’ve felt like something has been off, something hidden out of sight. Pull back the curtain if you can, please, because I’m drowning.”

  “You probably won’t remember this because you were too young. This was far before the twins came, but we took a family vacation to the cabin in the woods. There was a lake.”

  “Oookaaay.” I draw out the word, uncertain what the cabin has to do with anything.

  “Well, it was our family and two other families who had children your age,” Aunt Emily explains.

  “Who?” I shake my head, confused.

  “The DuPonts and the Chambers.”

  “They were friends with our family?”

  “More like business associates,”
Aunt Emily clarifies.

  “What does this have to do with Mom’s foundation and what’s going on?”

  “During that vacation, your mom came to me with some startling information. She wasn’t sure if she was right, but you know your mom. She worried so much, so she dug a little more.”

  “What information?”

  “They were using all three businesses to conduct their business.”

  “The sex trafficking?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “How did you know?”

  “Dixon is sort of a genius, and he dug up the reasoning behind Delaney’s father wanting to buy DuPont’s business.”

  “A transfer of power,” Aunt Emily whispers.

  “It seems like Tripp, his son, is involved, too.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me, honestly.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Not exactly. On that trip, your mom told me that if anything happened to her, to know that it wasn’t because of some freak accident or suicide.”

  “What are you saying, Aunt Emily?”

  “Your mother didn’t kill herself, Breaker. Your mother was shoved off that bridge.”

  “By who?”

  “By the one with the most to lose. Gary Chambers.”

  “No one believed me when I said someone was on the bridge that night.”

  “I know.”

  “But you knew.”

  “Not exactly. I know your mom believed if she ended up hurt, it was them who did it.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything, tell the police?”

  “Because your mom knew if I did, there would be consequences. She wanted to protect you three.”

  “So much good that did, because I’m stuck inside of their twisted little world.” I clutch my head in my hand, rubbing the tension building inside my skull.

  “Your security started to unravel with the disappearance of that Weston girl. Palmer coming into your life only brought you closer. Delaney was the final straw.”

  “Her dad killed my mom. How am I supposed to process that? How do I walk out of this kitchen and look at her without any resentment or anger?”

  “That girl had nothing to do with what happened to your mom. Place your anger where it’s deserved, Breaker,” Aunt Emily scolds. “All that girl ever did was be born into a family of greed. You two have that in common.”