“No.”
West continues to tread on areas of my life where I’ve never allowed anyone. I stop and so does he. “Will you go wait for me in the car?”
“Are you cold, Haley? Because I’m cold. I’m going with or we can stay here and freeze to death. Either way, we’re together.”
It’s cold enough that my wet hair is forming into icicles. “You are so high-maintenance.”
The parking-lot lamp behind him creates a shadow along his face, but that smile is hard to miss. I’m irritated with him and I want to stay irritated with him, but those types of smiles make it hard to stay mad at him for long.
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” he asks.
My mouth gapes. “I am not high-maintenance.”
He rocks his eyebrows. “I’m messing with you. For real, it’s cold, so let’s move.”
“Will you stay here? Just one second. I swear I’ll never be out of your sight.”
In a sweeping motion, he waves his hand for me to continue.
The blacktop beneath my feet crackles as it gives way to gravel and, with West a safe distance away, I approach the tiny camper and knock on the door. The muted and distorted sound of a crowd roaring fades away. John’s always watching a fight—for entertainment, for training, for scouting, for tips on how to beat an upcoming opponent.
The entire vehicle shakes as John opens the door. He’s in the same clothes as usual, a T-shirt and nylon athletic pants. He rubs his eyes as if waking from a deep sleep. “You’re done?”
“We’re done,” I say. “I forgot to get the keys from you so you’ll need to lock up.”
John grabs his coat. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Thanks, but West will do it.”
He peers over my shoulder. “I’ll lock up after I finish watching this tape.”
Nerves cause a flash freeze in my bloodstream. “What about my uncle?” I’ve never come in this late before. Jax and Kaden have, sometimes they roll in later, but never me.
“I talked to him and he knows you’re training. I’ll warn you, he’s not happy, but he’ll let you in. You’ve got to be there by eleven on a school night and midnight on the weekend.”
I shift, suddenly consumed with the urge to run and meet curfew. “It’s eleven now. When were you going to tell me?” Anytime this week could have helped.
“I would have come and gotten you by eleven-thirty and taken you home.”
I assess sleepy “Grandpa.” “Uh-huh.”
The old man cracks a rare grin. “Go on before you do miss curfew.”
I hesitate. “Jax and Kaden weren’t here tonight.”
“They weren’t.”
“But they train at the gym every night.” I know because I’ve been stuck at the hellhole house without them. John cocks a hip against the doorframe, waiting for me to catch up, and it doesn’t take long for the synapses in my brain to fire. “They say they’re training and then they go out.”
“Good night, Haley.” He shuts the door. Jax and Kaden had a way out and they didn’t include me. My insides drop to my frozen toes. Oh, my God, they must seriously hate me.
I say nothing as I pass West.
“Is that his other office?”
“No.” It’s where he lives.
West unlocks the passenger-side door and holds it open for me. “You okay?”
He searches my face and the sympathy screams he knows the answer. I slide into the seat and a few seconds later, he joins me. West revs the engine, blasts the heater and angles the vents at me. It’s a sweet gesture. One that makes me sort of regret not dating fighters.
Thinking of Kaden and Jax and all their secrets, I kick my shoes off and curl into a tight ball in the seat. How did everything become so screwed up?
“It’ll get warmer in a second.” West pulls out of the parking lot and heads to my uncle’s.
He assumes I’m cold. I’m always cold, but I’m trying to hold myself together. Sure, Jax and Kaden weren’t happy with me, but to not tell me John would cover for us...
I’m like an injured antelope abandoned by the herd, but I guess I asked for it. Somewhere between dating Matt and leaving fighting, I became the stray left for my uncle to devour.
My uncle never touches me. He doesn’t have to. His words, his voice, his glares... They have a way of clawing past my skin, becoming a toxic layer along my bones and creeping into my bloodstream. You’re worthless, he once told me. You’re weak and you’re worthless.
I’m not. My throat tightens and I rest my temple on the window. At least, I don’t think I am.
Too fast, West eases in front of my uncle’s. Sometimes I expect a black mist to surround the house, an indication of the evil inside. Even if there was, where else would I go?
I turn to say goodbye to West when the light of the streetlamp flickers on and something shiny draws my attention from the backseat. Two gym bags rest on the floorboards. Both are open and clothes poke out of the openings. His schoolbooks and notebooks litter the backseat.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been living out of your car?”
No response, and the weight of my words crushes us both. Wind hits the SUV. A storm front is blowing in tonight, bringing ice, snow and plummeting temperatures. “You can’t stay out here tonight. You’re staying with me.”
Chapter 30
West
The thought hits me as I’m halfway up the trellis that this is the first time I’ve snuck into a girl’s room and oddly enough, it isn’t to hook up.
I’m too heavy for the rotting wood, so I work quickly and quietly up the tangle of decaying vines. Haley left the window open and I climb in, shut it behind me, then slide off my coat. I straighten and swallow the curse when pain shoots through the top of my head. I’m too damn tall for the ceiling.
Haley was drill-sergeant strict on her orders of no noise. She threw out a lot of instructions and the wide-eyed fear on her face kept me from asking questions. The girl was serious. Very serious. With temperatures threatening to drop below zero and wind chills in the negative double digits, I wasn’t in the position to play.
A lamp on the floor highlights a portion of the cramped attic. Most of the space is filled with varying sizes of cardboard boxes heaped one on top of the other. A fake Christmas tree with tinsel still hanging from the branches is shoved between the wall and a collapsed pile of mounted deer heads.
On the floor next to my feet is a blow-up mattress with a blue daisy-printed comforter. Haley’s backpack leans against the mattress and an old green chair appears to serve as her dresser as piles of her clothes are stacked neatly upon it. I catch sight of black underwear and a bra. Both have a layer of lace along the seam and damn if I don’t go hard.
The door on the other side of the attic creeps open. I duck into the shadows, then reappear when Haley enters with a plate and cup in hand. She uses a foot to close the door with a snap and her hips sway as she crosses the space to reach me.
Without meeting my eyes, she rests the plateful of food and the cup on the floor next to a clock radio. “It’s not much, but I’ve got a heater and walls.”
“It’s great.” It’s great she’s obviously breaking rules to give me a place to crash.
Haley realigns the comforter and fluffs the lone pillow. “This isn’t my house. It’s my uncle’s. We’re staying here for a bit. I used to have a room, like a real room with stuff, but, you know, this is temporary...”
She continues in the same forced cheery tone as she refolds a couple of shirts and her cheeks turn red when she spots the same underwear set. Haley rattles on about temporary and how they’ll have a real home again soon and after she strategically plants a pair of jeans over her private garments, I snag a finger through one of her belt loops and drag her closer.
Haley stops midsentence and her dark eyes widen. Her fingers grasp another pair of jeans she was in the process of refolding. If it weren’t for the damn things, her body would be touching mine. “I don’t care. I live in a car. You live in an attic. There’s no judgment here.”
She sags and, for a few seconds, Haley is the most pliant she’s been since I met her. I take advantage of it by letting my hands form to her hips and nudge her in my direction. She allows it, releases the jeans and drops her forehead to my shoulder. “We live with my uncle—Jax’s dad. We lost our home six months ago.”
My hands move up her back and I engulf her into my body. Haley answers by wrapping her arms around my waist. Through my shirt, I can sense her cold fingers, but the rest of her is warm. Extremely warm. She relaxes into me and lays her cheek against my chest.
There’s a peace in this moment—a settling in my soul. Like I’ve been searching for home and finally found it. Tired of fighting the urge, I run my fingers through the ends of her silky hair. “It’s okay.” We’re okay.
“It’s not,” she whispers. “Living here isn’t okay.”
We stay like that, holding each other. I think of Isaiah at the hospital the night Rachel was hurt. His two friends held him up and I wonder if that’s how Haley and I would look. Am I holding her together as much as she’s keeping me from falling apart?