Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“I don’t barely know her. She sits next to me in class.”
He starts, frowning heavily as he gives me a hard look, as if trying to figure me out. He never liked me hiring the P.I. back in November, but Dane and I both have access to our own money that Mama left to us. I insisted and insisted and threw in his face that it was my money and I could do whatever I wanted with it. That was a strained few days after we got back from the U2 concert after our police interviews and I told him what I was doing. He told me I was ridiculous, his face angry. He looked like he wanted to tussle with me, but that’s never been his style. I told him I didn’t give a shit what he thought. He wasn’t the one at that party. He wasn’t the one who left. Eventually, he came around to the idea because he thought it might help clear Dane and me if the police pressed us harder. They didn’t.
“I did pay for it.”
“Why?” His eyes search my face. “You can’t change what happened, and you had nothing to do with it.”
“I’m not trying to make up for what happened to her,” I say tightly. “Nothing can do that.”
But…
I want her to be happy.
And being with me won’t do that. The fact that she even wanted to kiss me blows my mind.
Changing directions, I say, “Dane keeps dreaming he was there in the woods with her.”
Dad pales and his mug clatters on the countertop. “What the hell?”
A long exhalation comes from me.
“Guilt?” he whispers.
I stare at him, refusing to answer that niggling question. “Regardless of the reason, don’t you think you need to stay home for a while?”
He nods, brushing my words away. “How are you? Football good? You hear from any scouts?”
Jesus. I wish he’d wake up and see what’s going on. “Season starts in one week. Home game. I’d like to see you there.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, son. I’m just…overwhelmed at work.”
Dane picks that moment to show up, stumbling into the kitchen from the same outside entrance I used. I hear the roar of Liam’s car as he pulls out.
“Dad! Hey! You came home!” He smirks as he leans against the counter. His jeans and gold Dragons shirt are rumpled. There’s a joint tucked behind his ear.
Dane’s flat eyes find mine, and I shrug. This is on you, dude. You knew Dad was arriving today.
“Late night?” Dad says tightly, eyeing him, lingering on his ear.
“I tried to tell you,” I murmur as I walk past Dad to grab milk for some cereal.
Dane sighs. “I’m standing right here, bro.”
“I wanted you to hear it, asshole,” I say. “Did you enjoy your night?” I pull out the rolled joint. I really don’t care about the pot. I’ve done my own dabbling on and off, but I dislike the lack of control.
He snatches it back. “Practically legal.”
“Not in Tennessee,” Dad mutters as he takes it from Dane. He rakes his gaze over his son, no doubt seeing the bloodshot eyes. “What did you do last night?”
He shrugs, shifting his eyes from me to Dad. “Liam had a shindig at his place.”
I bark out a laugh. A party I wasn’t invited to, not that I give a shit. “Who was there?”
Dane straightens, giving me a glare. “Most of the defensive guys, some girls from Hampton High. Very low-key.”
Yeah, I bet. I’ve been to Liam’s parties. He lives on a ten-acre estate in the boonies and his parents give him free rein to do whatever he wants out at the barn.
Dane eyes the kitchen stairwell that leads upstairs to the second floor. “I just want to crash.”
I look expectantly at Dad, hoping he’ll do something.
“Your curfew is midnight on weekends,” he says to Dane as he rubs his jaw. I think I see helplessness in his eyes. “Pull an all-nighter again, and you’re grounded. Your car is still in the shop, but once it gets out, you won’t get it back until I say so, got it? And I’ll take that phone away. Football season is here and you need to focus.”
“Didn’t know you cared so much,” he mutters.
A few moments tick by, the tension in the room ramping up.
Dad lets out a long sigh. “I do care, Dane. I’m going to take some time off. I just need to handle a few more meetings in New York—”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Dane says, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “Heard it all before.”
Anger blooms red on Dad’s face, his fists tightening. “I’m going to make an appointment with Dr. Forest for you.”
Dane slams down his water. “Fuck that. I’m not going to therapy.”
“You will,” Dad says. “I’m still your parent—”
“You don’t have a clue what I do!” Dane cries out. “I hate this empty fucking house and I hate you.” Those last words whimper off, his voice cracking in anger. He’s perilously close to tears, and his fists clench even as he eyes the stairwell again.