“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t call you a slut again. I was talking about what happened last year and Dad heard.”
Whatever. I roll my eyes and Jax plants a hand on my arm. “Come on, Hays—give me this. I don’t apologize to just anyone.”
And I’d really prefer the avoidance route. “I’m late and need to change.”
Jax tilts his head and sort of grins. “Are you gonna make me do this?”
“I’m not making you do anything.”
I attempt to step past him and Jax falls to his knees. He stretches out his arms to create his massive wingspan. The pounding on the bags stop and guys yell and taunt Jax from around the gym. My eyes widen. He’s humiliating himself for me.
“Hear me out,” he says. “Otherwise, I’ll be following you around like this for the rest of the day.”
A few guys slip out of the locker room and I slide to the side to let them pass and motion with my chin for Jax to join me. He stands and the gym returns to routine.
“Of all the stories you could share with your dad, why share that?” I whisper.
His eyes narrow at the mention of his father. “I wasn’t sharing with him. I was outside, talking to Kaden, and I didn’t know he was around to hear.”
“You regularly bring up I’m a slut?”
“You’re not a slut. Look, you’re dating West and it’s bringing back bad memories. Kaden and I were talking because we’re both worried. You blocked us out when you dated Matt and you’re blocking us out again. Matt hurt you, Hays, and we don’t want to see you hurt again.”
I search his eyes, wishing I could ask what he knows. “Matt didn’t hurt me.”
“Every time you walk into this gym you go ghost white. That never happened before Matt. I don’t know what he did to you, but he did something. He killed a part of who you were and Kaden and I will be damned if West finishes you off.”
“West isn’t Matt.” He’s not. A shimmer of panic weaves through me. What if I’m making the same mistake twice?
The metal cage vibrates when Kaden beats his hand against it. “Let’s go, Jax.”
Jax shoves his headgear back on. “Just saying that history seems to be repeating itself. Think about it.”
Just crap.
The door to my grandfather’s office opens and out steps my father. Pure, utter joy skips into my bloodstream and my face aches with the smile. My dad came. This means he’s back and he’ll be okay and he’ll sleep again and he’ll smile again and he’ll be my dad. I don’t care about the job. I don’t care about the money. I care about my dad.
Dad gestures for me to join him and I’m hesitant as I head over. Any time with my father is like Christmas morning, but a vibration of nerves strings me out like a drug.
John offers a halfhearted smile and any type of smile from him scares the pee out of me. “Shut the door behind you.”
I do and sink into the chair across from John. Dad leans against the filing cabinet and stares at a large envelope on John’s desk. John picks it up, opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it while handing the envelope to me.
Nausea kicks in as I think of the million horrible things it could be, but none of them make sense until I see the return address: the University of Kentucky.
My hands shake and I inhale deeply. Large envelope. I got in. I was accepted.
“Congratulations.” There’s a heaviness in my Dad’s voice that catches my attention. The smile I hadn’t even known formed on my face fades.
“I picked up the mail today,” he continues. “I hope you don’t mind, I already opened it.”
I flip it over and slide my hand along the already unsealed flap. Mind? Yeah, I do, but I could never say anything to upset my father, so instead I empty out the contents.
While my father and John scrutinize my every movement, I scan through the mountains of papers and brochures, finding everything but one crucial item. “The financial aid?”
John fingers a paper on his desk. “Some grants, a small student loan, work-study, but no scholarship. I’m sorry.”
My ACT scores weren’t high enough. I suck at tests but rock it out in class. While my brain knew this would be the outcome, my heart didn’t. I nod and bite the inside of my mouth.
“I was accepted.” I try to lift my lips, but they tremble. Dammit, this should be a good moment.
“Haley,” starts John. “Your dad and I talked and I’m going to try to take out a loan—”
“You can’t,” I cut in. “You put everything into this gym and the heater just died.”
I’m not stupid. John doesn’t live in a camper because he thinks it’s cool. He, like everyone else, has made hard decisions to stay afloat. There’s no way he can handle more bills.
“It’s the only option,” says my dad.
“I’ll work two jobs or I’ll go to community college.” Though that also costs money I don’t possess. “I’ll find a way to save money, work for a year—”
“No!” Dad bangs his hand against the cabinet and I jump. My father has never been one to lose his patience, to lose his calm. “Not acceptable. You’ll take what we give you.”
“Dad—” I argue.
“I said no!” he shouts, then tears out of the office. The blinds on the window of the door sway when the door slams shut.
I look at John and my mouth grows slack. “What did I do?”
“It’s a hard position for a man to be in when he can’t care for his family, especially his daughter.”
“I don’t want him to worry about me. I can figure this out on my own.”
“That’s just it. He wants to provide for you and he sees how hard you’re working to take care of him.” He pauses. “He told me what happened last night. Your boyfriend almost cost you the roof over your head.”
I wilt and wish the earth would engulf me. “I know and I tried to apologize to Dad.”
“There it is. Right there. You shouldn’t be apologizing to him. It’s killing him. You’re his daughter. He’s your father. The roles at this point shouldn’t be reversed.”
“I promised to make it work with my uncle and I failed. This is my fault.”
“Your fault? Did you cost him the job? Did you force Maggie to get sick? Did you create the recession that caused half of those fighters out there to not be able to pay gym fees? There is no fault. There’s how life works. Your father’s having a hard time accepting the hand he’s been given. And you’ve chosen to roll over and play dead. I’m not sure which one of you is worse.”
We’re silent and the packet becomes a pregnant elephant on my lap. “I lost his meds.”
“That was a battle. Not the war. You used to have better perspective.”
For months I worried about being accepted into college and now I wish I would have never received the acceptance. I toss the paperwork to the floor. “How do I help him?”
“This is something he has to work out. In the meantime, you keep going forward.”
Forward. But I want to go back...back home, back when Dad had a job, back when there was hope. “I’m worried about him.”
John’s silent for a few seconds. “I am, too. I’m worried about all of you, your mom included. It’s a heavy burden on me that I can’t provide a proper home for my daughter.”
“Mom’s aunt Vi contacted her again. She wants us to move to California to live with her,” I say this to gauge his reaction. My great-aunt Vi is his sister-in-law, my grandmother’s sister. She and John hated each other, but she loved her sister and my mother.
“Your mom told me.” He glances away. “I told her she should consider it.”
“Mom wants to wait until Kaden and I graduate.” If I don’t win a scholarship by then, I could be moving with them. “Maybe Dad will do better in California.”
The grim set of his lips creates a crawling sensation along my skin. “What?”
“Your father’s in a bad place. He used to be a fighter, but I’m not sure he has fight left in him anymore.”
“He’s a fighter.” Even the best fighters have a rough time running uphill with weights on their backs. I just have to take a couple of those weights off. The first place to start is to win that scholarship. “I’ll spar. Today. Tomorrow. Whenever. In exchange, I need a letter from you for a scholarship and I also need you to train West.”
“I’ll train West if you agree to fight for me. Not spar.”
I can’t fight. “Then I’ll spar if you give me the letter and Jax and Kaden. Tell them they have to help me with West.”
John cracks a rare real grin. “Now we’re talking.”
Chapter 52
West
On the floor, I tighten the screw, then test the half door attached to the wall that, in theory, keeps people from behind the bar. Last night, somebody tore it off the hinges during a fight. Today: good as new. Satisfied, I sit back and observe the few people milling about. The same thought circles my mind: Is one of these guys my mom’s brother?
It’s Saturday and for the millionth time, I wish Haley had a cell. This whole only talking to her when I see her is too old-school for me. Last night I asked her if we were still a couple and she asked for time. Waiting until Monday at school to discover the answer is driving me insane.