I decline the call with a swipe of my finger and silence the phone before closing my eyes and letting sleep pull me under again.
Six a.m.
Trish clings to me in her sleep, her hand wrapped around my arm.
I hear people talking downstairs, then the sound of footsteps up the stairs and coming down the hall.
The bedroom door opens slowly, and Chris walks through, wincing when his eyes land on me. "I thought you might be here." His eyes flick to Trish and back to me, and he shakes his head.
"How'd you know?"
"Pictures on Facebook of you two all over each other."
Facebook. Which means everyone's going to know I spent my night with Trish. Mia's going to know.
I expect a lecture, or at the very least that look of disappointment Chris has mastered so well. He finds my shoes on the floor and tosses them onto my chest.
"Come on. We've gotta go."
I sit up and wince when the movement sends pain jackhammering through my head. "Where?"
"To the hospital." His eyes scan my face, and even hungover and miserable, I recognize the grief in his eyes. "There was an accident."
My gut lurches. "Mia?"
"Brogan." He swallows and shifts his eyes to the wall. "It's not good."
I hop out of bed and slide on my shoes. This doesn't feel real and I'm not sure it is, but I follow Chris wordlessly to the door.
Trish rolls over in bed. "Arrow? Where are you going?"
"He'll call you," Chris says. "Come on."
My feet aren't steady under me. My brain is a bunch of floating pieces in my skull. With every step down the stairs, I almost anticipate the floor falling out from under me. I'll fall and then I'll wake up.
Brogan. It's not good.
We hit the base of the stairs, and I turn instinctively toward the TV. Coach is on the couch, staring at the screen, transfixed.
"One man dead and another critically injured this morning after a hit-and-run accident on Deadman's Curve."
I turn to Chris, and he nods. "Dead?" I ask.
"Mia's brother didn't make it," he whispers. "Brogan . . . we don't know about Brogan yet."
Coach turns away from the TV and his eyes lock on mine like he's trying to tell me something.
"Sorry about showing up at your door at this hour, sir," Chris says, his Texas accent thicker this morning. It does that when he's tired.
Coach inclines his chin. "Arrow will meet you outside, son. I need to talk to him for a minute."
Chris cuts his eyes to me.
"I'll only be a sec," I promise.
He nods and closes the door behind him as he leaves.
"Police are investigating, trying to find the owner of the dark SUV responsible for the accident," the woman on the TV says. "If you know anyone, please call the anonymous tip line listed on the bottom of your screen."
Coach stands in front of me, and I get that out-of-body feeling again. Like nothing is happening as it should and everything is fragmented. "You got here before midnight, and you snuck into Trish's room."
I blink at him. "What?"
"If anyone asks. You got here before midnight and snuck into Trish's room to be with her."
"How did I get here?"
"You drove."
"The police will arrive any minute. I hit a deer at the end of the drive this morning." He shakes his head. "Stupid, really, but I was distracted because I saw your Mustang in the driveway and I knew you were with my daughter. Just went out for a drive to clear my head, and the stupid deer ran in front of me."
"You've had too much to drink."
"I have to find someone who can drive the Cherokee back to your dad's."
Trish grinning against my mouth. "And then you know where to find me."
Trish pressing her lips to my cheek, lifting her phone, and snapping another picture.
The ground shifts under me. "Coach?"
"Tell me you understand."
I shake my head. "What happened?"
"You're a good kid." His eyes fill with tears, and I've never seen him like this. Not when I took our team to the state championships. Not when his wife died. Never. This is a man who doesn't cry. "Everyone makes mistakes, and I won't let this one destroy your life. Let me fix it."
Out front, I hear the pop of gravel spitting out from under tires.
"If I-" I try to swallow, but I can't. There's too much fear in my throat. Too much confusion and horror.
"No, Arrow. It's done. It's taken care of."
Footfalls sound on the front porch, and then three sharp knocks at the door.
Coach swipes at his eyes. "It's done. Go to the hospital. Brogan needs you." He crosses to the door and pulls it open. "Thanks for coming out," he tells the officer. "Just saw on the news what happened last night."
The officer waves a hand. "Not much we can do about that."
"You know what Mendez was like," Coach says. "Makes you wonder if it wasn't just a matter of time before one of his rivals took him out."
"Just too bad Barrett had to be collateral damage." The officer shakes his head somberly. "Where's the deer?"
"Put her in the garage. Hope you don't mind. She's a beaut. Hate for her to go to waste." With one final look at me over his shoulder, Coach leaves, taking the officer to the garage.
When I find my way to Chris's car, my insides are trembling and I can't make them stop. I'm so afraid the truth is written all over my face and Chris will know, but he's in his own world.
I pull my phone from my pocket and see a dozen missed calls and texts. I punch the number for my voicemail and hold the phone to my ear.
She's crying. "Arrow, it's Mia. Something terrible happened. Brogan. My br-br-br- We're at the hospital. So sorry. So, so sorry."
"Oh, shit. Pull over."
Chris yanks his car to the shoulder, and I barely get the door open before I heave the contents of my stomach onto the ice-glazed grass.
When we get to the hospital, half the team and dozens of our friends fill the waiting room, but my eyes instantly pick Mia out of the crowd of faces. Her white dress is stained with blood and her face is pale.
"How did I get here?"
"You drove."
Her eyes lock on mine, and I want to cut myself open right there. Spill my guts onto the floor so I don't have to live with this pain and horror and ache inside me. Her brother is dead. Brogan might die.
"Everyone makes mistakes, and I won't let this one destroy your life."
I look away, find a seat, drop my head, and try to pray that this nightmare will end.
May, four months after the accident, the day after Brogan's funeral
My first thought when I wake up to a gun in my face is that the police have come and they're here to finally arrest me for what I did.
My second thought is that I never locked the door or activated the alarm last night. I was on my way down to do it when I came into Mia's room.
"Get the fuck away from my daughter."
The gun shakes. It's no more than an inch, maybe two, from my face, but I can't bring myself to confirm that it's Mia's father on the other end. I can't get my eyes off the barrel of the gun that is way too fucking close to Mia's head.
Slowly, I release her, sit up in bed, and raise my hands, never taking my eyes from the barrel of the gun.
"Daddy?" Mia sits up beside me. "Daddy, put that down!"
"They told me-down at the bar-they told me my daughter was living with the Woodisons. They told me, and I told them they were fucking liars."
"Daddy, put the gun down."
"He took my daughter. He took my daughter from me and made her into a liar. You said you were living with Bailey."
I stand, keeping my hands raised by my head, palms out. I have the distant thought that I'm glad we put on clothes before we fell asleep, minimal as they are. Mia's in a T-shirt, and I'm in my boxer briefs. "Mr. Mendez, this is between you and me. Let's go downstairs. We'll make some coffee."
His hand shakes harder, and the scent of whiskey is so potent it rolls off him. "I don't want your fucking coffee. You can't talk your way out of this."
"Daddy!" Mia says.
He sniffs and clears his throat. "They told me my daughter was living with the Woodisons, and I told them they were liars." He swings on her, the gun going with him.
She gasps to find it pointed at her head. "Go ahead," she says, her voice hard now. "I know I'm no use to you anyway. But killing me won't bring Nic back."
"Don't you dare speak my son's name to me. You're here, whoring yourself like your mother did."
"Daddy-"
"They think they can take whatever they want just 'cause they have all the money, but you let them."