Spinning Out(The Blackhawk Boy #1)(59)

I don't know what Coach is telling them. I don't know if he's throwing  me under the bus or trying to take the blame himself-lie and say he was  driving the car. But it doesn't matter. If he's turning himself in, it  means I get to finally tell the truth without his fate weighing on my  conscience.                       
       
           



       

I turn off my car and squeeze my eyes shut. I should have done this sooner. I should have insisted.

I swallow hard, pocket my keys, and climb out.

When I step into the station, the officer who arrested me for possession looks up from his desk.

"You're supposed to be on house arrest," he says.

Not far away, Coach stands with another officer, who's pointing to the back hallway.

"I'm here to turn myself in," I say.

"No, you're not," Coach says. "You can't confess to a crime you didn't commit."

"Just because I don't remember-"

The doors to the station burst open, and Mia and Bailey rush in.

"You weren't driving!" Mia shouts.

Bailey nods frantically, and Trish steps through the doors and stands at  my side. She's a mess, her eyes red, her face wet with tears, her hands  full of tissues.

"They're telling the truth," Trish says. Her voice shakes, but she stands firm.

"Don't try to protect me," I say.

Trish squeezes my arm. "You never drove that night, Arrow. You weren't  behind the wheel even once after you started drinking. You were passed  out in the passenger seat." She steps forward and wraps her arms around  her waist. She meets the eyes of the officer standing by me. "I was the  one driving." She turns to me, her face falling. "I'm sorry I let you  believe that it was your fault."

"Trish." I shake my head. "You didn't-" I look to Coach, who's avoiding  my gaze. "I was in the driver's seat. When you woke me up. When you  found me in your yard . . ."

He lifts his eyes to mine, and I see the truth right there. "I moved you to the driver's seat," he says.

That doesn't make any sense. If he was trying to protect me, why would  he put me there? None of this makes any sense. "You were trying to  protect me. Right?"

Trish squeezes my arm again, hard. "He was trying to protect me, Arrow. I was driving, and he was trying to protect me."

I'm frozen, but I feel as if I'm falling. Even when things were at their  worst, when it felt like the whole fucking world was constructed to  ruin me, my one constant was that at least there was Coach-someone who,  right or wrong, loved me enough to take drastic actions to protect me.

Trish looks at the officer, takes a breath, and says, "I'm here to turn  myself in for the hit-and-run accident that killed Nicholas Mendez and  Brogan Barrett. My father covered it up and made Arrow think he did it,  but I was the one driving the car."





"I can't imagine what you're feeling right now," Bailey says, as we pull  into our old trailer park. "Because personally, I feel like I've been  sucked dry. What a fucking insane day."

"No kidding." I scroll through the dozens of group texts between Bailey,  me, and the guys on the team. The responses to everything that went  down today run the gamut from anger toward Arrow for months of silence,  to pity for me, to some rather unpleasant suggestions as to what Coach's  punishment should be.

After the officers took Arrow, Trish, and Coach back for questioning,  Mason and Chris showed up at the station to give their statements about  seeing Trish drive the Cherokee, and Bailey and I were told to leave. I  didn't want to, but Bailey reminded me that my dad might like to know  the truth about what happened that night.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she says as she parks the car. "And today just got a little more interesting."

I pull my eyes away from my phone and follow her gaze to the front steps  of Dad's trailer. When I see her standing there, my heart squeezes so  hard in my chest it brings tears to my eyes.

"Do you want to leave?" Bailey asks. "Because you've had a shit day, and  you don't need to deal with this right now. I can tear out of here and  hide you at my apartment until she leaves." She puts her hand on the  gearshift, ready to pop the car into reverse.

Mom's eyes meet mine, and she gives a soft smile. Her hair is swept off  her shoulders and tied at the back of her neck. Standing there in her  yellow tank top and frayed jeans, it's as if she never left.

To this day, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and despite  all the anger and resentment I've directed her way in the last six  years, there's no one I'd rather see right now.

"It's fine," I tell Bailey. "I'll talk to her."

Bailey frowns, grumbles something under her breath about masochism, and  reaches across me to open my door. "I'll be at Mom's trailer if you need  me, okay?"                       
       
           



       

I nod. "Love you, Bail."

"Love you, Mee," she whispers.

I close the car door and head for my mother.

Mom tucks her hands in her pockets as I walk forward. "Hi, Princess  Mia," she says. She comes down the steps and worries her bottom lip  between her teeth just like I know I do when I'm nervous.

I don't reply in any way but to wrap my arms around her and hug her  tight. Because sometimes a girl needs her mom. "I missed you."

I know it's a silly thing to say when she was here in January for Nic's  funeral. It's probably a little weird that in all the times I've seen or  talked with her since she left when I was fifteen, this is the first  time I've said it. Maybe it's not a fair thing to say when she tried to  convince me to come back to Arizona with her and I refused, but after  what I've been through in the months since the accident, I just need her  to know.

"I miss you every day," she says, stroking my hair. "Your father tells  me you're going to BHU next fall. He said you're the smartest girl in  town."

I chuckle against her shoulder. That's my father. Everything in hyperbole. I pull back so I can look at her. "Why are you here?"

"Your father called me." Her smile falls away. "He told me he has a  drinking problem, and he wanted a loan to check himself into an  in-patient rehabilitation program. He said he wanted to do it for you."

"I could have given him the money," I say, looking over her shoulder to the dark and quiet trailer. Is he already gone?

"It was the least I could do, Mia." She swallows hard. "How long has he  been like this? I suspected when I saw him at Nic's funeral, but we were  all a mess and I . . ." She shakes her head. "Why didn't you tell me he  was drinking? I would have come home."

"Nic and I thought we could handle it." It didn't seem like a secret at  the time, just something she didn't need to know. Or maybe part of me  felt like I was punishing her by not sharing the details of our lives  and keeping her in the dark about the hardest parts. I didn't want to  need her after she left us so easily, and neither did Nic. "You didn't  want to be here, so we didn't tell you anything that would make you feel  like you needed to come back."

Her face crumples like tissue paper. "Baby . . ." She closes her eyes and composes herself.

I wait until she opens her eyes before I speak again. "I know about your affair with Uriah Woodison."

She folds her arms, and I recognize the defensive stance. I'm just like  her. "I didn't want you to know." She drops her gaze to the ground and  digs the toe of her white sneaker in the dirt.

"I needed you." I'm surprised to hear myself admit it and more surprised  to hear my voice crack on the admission. It's been years, and I made  it. I survived my teen years without my mom to wipe away my tears and  hold my hand. It shouldn't matter anymore. But it does. "Why did you  leave?"

She lifts her head and studies me. "I wanted you to be better than I  was. Uriah, he wanted me to stay in town. He said he'd take care of us  if I left your father, but he was still a married man, and you know what  people would say." She drops her arms from around her waist and turns  her palms up in a shrug. "I was ashamed and thought the best penance was  to leave. You wouldn't have to be the daughter of the whore. You were  always so smart. I didn't want my mistakes to follow you."

They did. Even when she was gone, they were here, haunting me. They were  the reason I didn't give Arrow a chance that first day we met. They  were the reason I got back together with Brogan when it should have been  over. The reason I couldn't admit to myself that I loved Arrow. But I  don't tell her any of that, because I know it will hurt her, and  sometimes love means keeping secrets.