For the Save (Playing for Keeps #4) Read online

  He’d said the word “Ben.” I held my breath as I continued listening.

  “He and his dad were fighting. Like really going at it. I couldn’t make out much of what they were saying, but his dad was really angry.” He ran a hand through his hair. Holden was staring at him enraptured. They didn’t even notice me. It made my skin crawl that my family was fodder for this kind of gossip. “I mean, it might mean something or it might not. I’m not sure. But it did happen two days before Ben’s death.”

  The room spun around me, the walls bending and curving. I closed my eyes in an attempt to stay upright. I couldn’t believe Sawyer had never told me this. And why was he telling Holden?

  It all hit me like a ton of bricks, and a small gasp escaped through my lips. I brought my hand up, smothering my mouth with my palm. But it was too late. Sawyer and Holden had heard me. They whipped their heads in my direction. When Sawyer’s gaze locked with mine, he knew I’d heard him. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with a vehement shake of my head. Then I spun around and fled toward the doors.

  CHAPTER 14

  Sawyer

  Damn it, she was running away again.

  Why had I said anything to Holden? I should’ve kept my mouth shut. She’d finally stopped running, and she was beginning to trust me. Now I’d screwed it all up. I guess I felt like I needed to get it off my chest. Besides, I wanted Holden’s opinion on when or if I should share it with Addison. Although, it didn’t matter now. She knew all right. The problem was that I wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive me for the way she found out. Telling her was already a risk, but at least I’d be in control. But now I’d lost all control over the situation.

  We reached the counter, but there was no way I could buy popcorn now. I threw Holden an apologetic look.

  “It’s okay, man,” he assured me. “I’ll take care of this. Go after her.”

  Nodding, I took off running. The minute I stepped outside cold air smacked me in the face. It was like a wake-up call. Like someone threw cold water on my face. She was standing a few feet away hugging herself, her face ravaged with pain. I never should’ve kept this from her. What was I thinking?

  “Addie,” I started as I stepped toward her.

  “Addison,” she corrected firmly.

  Shit. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  “So, it’s true.” Her lips trembled.

  This was not the way I wanted this to go down. She appeared so sad and vulnerable standing in front of me, her mouth quivering, her eyes shining. I wanted to take her in my arms, but I didn’t dare. “Yeah,” I spoke softly.

  “I don’t understand.” She scratched the top of her head. Id’ never seen her so lost, and that was saying something. “You saw my dad and brother fighting? Where?”

  “At a gas station. It was late and I was getting gas. They were at the pump opposite mine.”

  “What were they fighting about?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t hear what they said.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Betrayal flashed in her eyes.

  “At the time it just seemed like a typical father/son argument. I didn’t even give it a second thought. It wasn’t until I got to know you that I realized it might mean something.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  I swallowed hard. It was a legitimate question. But I wasn’t sure I had a legitimate answer. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “That worked out well,” she muttered.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “My dad’s gone. Did you know that?”

  I nodded. She’d never told me what happened with her dad, but I knew he wasn’t around.

  She ran an agitated hand through her hair. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”

  Her words cut to my heart. I was losing her. “You still can.”

  “No, I can’t.” She shook her head. “I should’ve known better. I can’t trust anyone.”

  “Addison.” I reached for her, but she pushed my hand away.

  “You said you were different, Sawyer. But you’re just like all the rest of them.”

  “You know that’s not true.” I had to make her see she was wrong. The problem was, I didn’t know how to do that now.

  “You were talking about me behind my back. You were telling Holden my family secrets. How is that different?”

  It wasn’t. Not at all. I hung my head.

  “Take me home,” she said, then shook her head. “No, scratch that. I’ll find my own way.”

  “No.” I grabbed her wrist. “I’m not letting you do that. I’ll take you home.”

  Wriggling out of my grasp, she gave me a resigned nod. I shot a text to Holden to let him know what I was doing, and then I walked Addison to my van. My heart broke a little with every step. By the time we got inside it felt like the beginning of the end. It seemed surreal that moments ago the night had begun with promise. I had thought the night would help Addison heal. But instead it had succeeding in hurting her more. I was so angry I wanted to ram my fist into something. Me and my big mouth. When would I learn?

  If only there was a rewind button for my life. I would definitely press it now. Too bad one didn’t exist.

  Addison kept her face turned away from me, staring out the side window as I drove. The silence was deafening. I racked my brain for something to say. Anything to make this better, but I didn’t know what. I’d already said I was sorry. Already explained my stupid reasoning. What more was there? I wasn’t a poet like Addison. Words didn’t come easily to me. I wished for some of her talent right now.

  But there was no way to drum up something I didn’t possess, and I was running out of time. We were nearing her street, and by the looks of things she wasn’t going to do any talking. Panic gripping me, I opened my mouth. I had to say something.

  “What I saw between your dad and brother might not have meant anything. That’s why I was talking to Holden. I was trying to do the right thing. I trust him, and I was getting his opinion on what I should do.” I stared forward, gripping the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles whitened.

  “It doesn’t matter to me why you did it,” Addison responded, staring out the window. The back of her head mocked me. I’d rather have her face me, no matter how angry she was. At least then I’d know I meant something to her. This felt like letting go. Like she didn’t even think I was worth looking at. “It only matters that you did.” Reaching up, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “My brother promised to always have my back, but he didn’t. He killed himself. My dad always told me he’d never leave. But after Ben died, he took off. Didn’t even say goodbye. He left while I was at school.” Her voice wavered. It killed me. I wanted to grab her hand and comfort her. But I kept my hands on the wheel, kept my distance. I knew it was what she wanted. And it was the least I could do for her now. “People’s words don’t mean shit to me anymore, Sawyer. It’s their actions that matter.”

  Her house came into view, and I turned my car guiding it up to the curb.

  “I was stupid. I got sucked in by your words.” She reached for the door handle, and my chest tightened. “But you showed your true colors tonight.” With quick movements she opened the passenger door.

  Before she could jump out, I latched onto her other arm. “Don’t say that.”

  “Let go of me.” She shook her arm until my fingers slipped from it. Her expression was hard, the same way it was when we met. The light was gone from her eyes. I could see the walls she’d built around herself. The ones I thought were starting to crumble. After she slid off the passenger seat, her eyes met mine briefly. “Good bye, Sawyer.”

  I couldn’t let her go. There was no way. After she slammed the door and started heading toward her house, I leapt out of the car and raced after her.

  “You can’t walk away from this, Addison,” I called out.

  She stiffened, but didn’t turn. “Go away.” Her voice sounded tired, sad. “Please.”
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  As much as it pained me, I knew pushing her anymore today was wrong. She was hurt, she was tired. I needed to respect her. I needed to give her space. Maybe when she had time to think, to clear her head, she’d come around.

  “I’ll go, but this isn’t over.”

  “Oh, trust me. It is.” A bitter laugh escaped through her lips as she jammed her key into the front door of her house.

  “It’s not, Addison. We have a connection.” I knew I should shut the hell up. Hadn’t I already gotten in trouble tonight because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut? Seriously, someone should wire the thing closed. But I couldn’t stop talking. I couldn’t bear the thought of her walking out of my life. Part of me wanted to say something to piss her off so bad that she’d come at me with guns blazing. That was something I could work with. Addison’s anger didn’t scare me. This Addison scared me. The one that was closed off. The one acting like she was too tired to fight me.

  “Correction. We had a connection.”

  “We still do,” I breathed out like a prayer. “Please, Addison, don’t go inside yet. I know you’re mad at me, but we can work this out.”

  “I’m not mad at you, Sawyer,” she said, and my spirits lifted a little. “Actually, I’m not anything at you anymore.”

  Her words hit their mark. I sagged under the weight of them. Stepping back, I pressed my lips together. Finally, I would shut up. There was nothing left to say after that. I’d let her go tonight. But if she thought I was giving up, she was sorely mistaken. Even if she wanted me to. Yes, I made a mistake, but I’d never intentionally hurt Addison. I cared about her, and I would do everything I could to prove that.

  I watched as she disappeared inside her house. Staring at it, I envisioned her inside, walking toward her room. My lips buzzed, remembering how she’d kissed me the last time we’d been inside. How she stared at me with hunger and passion. That day I had meant something to her, and I longed for that again.

  CHAPTER 15

  Addison

  Mom was asleep on the couch, her arms tucked up under her head. The television blared in the background, running the credits of a movie. An empty bottle of wine sat on the coffee table. I covered her with the quilt that was draped on the back of the couch and then turned off the TV. Silence enveloped me as I trudged down the hallway toward my room. Images of Sawyer flooded me when I stepped inside it. I saw him sitting on the edge of my bed wearing that lopsided smile of his. And I saw him holding me in his arms and looking tenderly into my eyes. Blinking, I shut my mind off to the memories. The last thing I needed was to get all sad and weepy over a boy.

  I knew it was a mistake from the get-go. This was my fault.

  There was no going back. And there was no use crying over spilled milk. That was a phrase my mom used to use all the time, and I never really understood it. I did now. What was done was done. And I had to accept that. But I wasn’t going to sit around and cry about it or dwell on it at all. I was going to do what I did best.

  Hold my head high and move on.

  Stripping off my clothes, I threw them in the hamper and replaced them with a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. I thought momentarily about tossing them in the trash, but decided against it. Sure, I’d never wear them again. Starting tomorrow it was back to ripped jeans and black t-shirts. But trashing the clothes wasn’t smart. I could probably exchange them at the thrift shop or something.

  Shuffling down the hall, I went into the bathroom and scrubbed the makeup off my face. Remembering how hard I’d worked to look perfect for tonight made me feel silly. I should’ve known it wouldn’t go well. I didn’t belong in that group. And to think, I was considering going back to my old look. That was never happening now. No, it was easier this way.

  I needed tough, aloof Addison. In fact, from now on I planned to never stray from her. My heart couldn’t take anymore, and she was good at protecting it. No more letting down my guard. That would only lead to heartache.

  Once my face was washed and hair was brushed, I slipped back into my room. But not before pausing in front of Ben’s. I thought over what Sawyer had said. What had Ben and my dad been arguing about days before his suicide? And why in public? Sawyer may have thought it wasn’t odd. He may have assumed it was a normal father/son argument, but that’s because he didn’t know my dad. He was the most private person in the world. Well, maybe not the world, but definitely the most private person I’d ever met. He hated public displays of anything. We never acted out in public if dad was around. He wouldn’t allow it. So whatever he and Ben were discussing, it had to have been bad for him to cause a scene in the middle of a gas station late at night?

  And what were they even doing there?

  My head spun with questions. The memory of the last time I’d seen Dad popped into my mind. It was the night before he left. He and Mom were fighting. It started out as low whispering coming from their bedroom, but pretty soon their voices rose to shouting. That’s what scared me, so I’d ventured out of my room and tip-toed down the hallway. Dad was talking so loudly it didn’t take much effort to figure out what he was saying. But none of it made sense to me. He was blaming Mom for Ben’s death. Saying that if she had parented differently none of it would have happened. It was so shocking. I’d only heard my parents fight a few times in my entire life, and never like that. Never had my dad spoken to my mom with such animosity or anger.

  Mom’s muffled cries reached my ears, and it was all too much. I scurried back to my room and hid under the covers. I fell into a fitful, restless sleep. And the next day while I was at school, Dad packed up his stuff and left. Mom told me she didn’t know where he went, but I suspected she did.

  Now I wondered if maybe she’d been telling the truth. If what Sawyer said was true, then Dad knew more about Ben’s death than he let on. Perhaps Dad was shifting blame onto Mom because he didn’t want to face his own culpability.

  All I knew was that I had to find out the truth. Lately I’d gotten so wrapped up in Sawyer that I’d given up my quest to find answers about Ben’s death. But that was done. Over. And now I needed to focus on what was important.

  And, trust me, that wasn’t a crush on some stupid boy.

  Once I had safely shut myself away in my room, I turned off my light and climbed into bed. Pressing my face into my pillow, I savored the coolness of it against my face. My comforter was soft and warm as it wrapped around my body. Closing my eyes, I longed for dreamless sleep. Longed to lose myself in it, for nothingness to envelop me. But it never came. Each time I started to feel my body drift off, Sawyer’s face came into view. Tossing and turning, I chased sleep, but never caught it. Finally, I gave up. With a groan, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I remembered the year my brother taped a picture of some swimsuit wearing supermodel to his bedroom ceiling after he got the idea from some TV show. He’d lie on his bed staring at it while practically drooling. I think it only lasted a couple of days until Mom saw it and made him take it down. I needed something like that. Not a picture of a half-naked woman, and definitely not a half-naked man. The last thing I needed was to get my mind on boys again. But it would be nice to have something to stare at, to keep me occupied. It was like how my pediatric dentist had fish stickers on the ceiling that you could focus on during a teeth cleaning. That’s what nighttime was like for me. A long, boring teeth cleaning. I lie here all night waiting for it to be over. Waiting for daylight to peek through the slats in the blinds, waiting for when I could climb out of bed and give up this ruse.

  Restless, I slipped out of bed and flicked on the wall switch. The room was bathed in bright yellow light. Sinking to the ground next to my backpack, I fished out a pen and my notebook. Then I made my way back over to my bed. If I couldn’t sleep, there was no point in continuing to try. And I was done with escaping to the cemetery. That wasn’t helping. Besides, it was cold tonight. I didn’t feel like braving the elements.

  Propping my pillow behind my back, I sat against it and opened my notebook to a blank p
age. Breathing deeply, I bent over the paper and started writing furiously, allowing the words to flow from my pen. Allowing my pain to spill from the ink. To drain from me and live on the page.

  Mom was no help at all. On Sunday morning I found her nursing her hangover with a gallon of coffee. She was hunched over the kitchen counter sucking it down like it was water and she’d returned from a week in the desert.

  “Rough night?” I hadn’t even spoken loudly, but she jumped and then grabbed her head in her hands. She could be in an anti-drinking ad right about now. When she faced me, I cringed. Mascara ringed her eyes and her hair was plastered to her scalp in curly tangles.

  “It was fine. How was yours?”

  My insides twisted, but I smiled. No way was I explaining what happened to Mom. Then she’d go all “mom” on me and want to talk things out, and I so wasn’t in the mood for that. In fact, I couldn’t think of any moment in my life when I was in the mood for that.

  “Fine,” I lied as I maneuvered around her to grab myself a cup of coffee. After pouring it, I leaned my back against the tile counter and faced Mom. “Hey,” I said, “did Dad say anything to you about him and Ben having an argument the week Ben died?”

  Mom appeared stricken, but then again she always looked that way when Ben was mentioned. “No. Why? Did they?”

  It was then that I realized Mom probably shouldn’t have been the first person I spoke to. Of course Dad didn’t share this with her. If he had she would’ve used this in her defense the night he was laying all the blame at her feet.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I guess I was just trying to figure out why Dad left.” This was one advantage to keeping secrets. Mom had no idea I heard she and Dad fighting that night. I’d never said a word.

  “Oh, honey.” Her face crumbled, causing panic to rise inside of me.

  I couldn’t do this with her right now. Shoving off the counter, I almost spilled my coffee in the process. But I had to get out of here fast before she wanted us to grieve together, before she tried to comfort me, and before she turned those sad puppy dog eyes on me. I set the cup down and hurried out of the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered, keeping my head down as I walked. “I’m fine. Really.”