Chapter Twenty-One - Henry
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Henry
I’M NOT SURPRISED to see Kaitlyn in our parents’ living room, but I do a double take at the sight of both Walker brothers with short blond hair. Hell, I know they’re identical, but with the same haircut, they actually look identical. The giveaway is only one of them is awake, while the other is asleep at the end of the couch.
I let go of Mirabelle’s hand as Kaitlyn and Hunter’s heads turn in our direction.
She cares so much about Bailey, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue.
After that call with her parents, I didn’t expect Mirabelle to say much. She didn’t say anything for a while, but then she started explaining everything about Bailey since the fire. It suddenly made a lot more sense why we were going to pick Bailey up from school drunk.
Honestly? It hurts that this is the first I’m hearing about what’s going on. I’m sure as shit going to focus on that so I don’t conjure up the worst in my head for whatever happens with her parents when we get to the house.
I have a lot of questions for my sister, because I find it hard to believe she doesn’t know why Bailey’s acting out. She’s mentioned he’s been off, but I assumed it was a reaction to JJ going to school across the country and all the shit that’s happened between Mirabelle and her parents.
“Henry!” Kaitlyn darts toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. God, I can’t believe how tall she is.
“Why aren’t you in class, Kait?” I assumed Hunter was going to use the garage code to get in the house.
“Jerk, this is the part where you tell me how happy you are to see me.” She groans, hitting my arm as Hunter approaches Mirabelle, pulling her to the edge of the living room.
“You’re spending the whole weekend with me after your game Friday night,” I say, ruffling her hair to annoy her. Kaitlyn rolls her eyes, swatting my hand away, but she can’t resist smiling.
“Are you still coming to the game?” she asks, hope filling her tone, and I wouldn’t miss it for the fucking world.
“Yes, but you should probably get some homework done if you’re going to skip school.”
“Seriously?” Kaitlyn asks, and I nod. “I hoped you’d take me with you.”
I look back at Mirabelle, and she’s still talking quietly to Hunter. I can’t let her be the bad guy to Bailey again.
“Seriously. We’ll talk later, okay?” I promise, stepping away to take one for the team by being the one to approach Bailey.
I’d like to dump water on his head to wake him, but instead, I push his shoulder. Bailey swings an arm without opening his eyes. “Leave me alone,” he slurs.
“Henry, I can wake him up,” Mirabelle adds behind me, but this doesn’t need to fall on her shoulders.
“Bailey, get up,” I say, keeping my voice level.
“No. I’m sleeping.”
Now I don’t feel bad about shoving him harder, and his eyes flash open, anger and exhaust altering his youthful face. “We’re leaving. Get up.”
“Bailey, don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” Hunter says, and Bailey’s scowl deepens when he catches sight of Mirabelle.
“Why is she here?” he spits out, wobbling as he sits up. “I don’t want her here. Kaitlyn, I told you not to call her.” Excuse me? I know he’s not talking to my sister like that. Who the fuck is this kid?
“I didn’t call Mira,” Kaitlyn protests, and I bite my tongue.
“Then why the fuck is she here?”
Now I’m fucking over this. If I bite my tongue any harder, I’m going to bite it off . I grab his arm, pulling the lanky kid to his feet whether he likes it or not. I am so past polite. I look at Mirabelle who couldn’t hide the devastation on her face if she tried, and it breaks my heart. I clear my throat, finding my sister is grabbing her backpack, following my directions. I’ll check on her later, but school is important. It’ll hopefully take her mind off this shit for a little bit.
Hunter and Mirabelle wordlessly follow Bailey and me to where Mirabelle’s car sits in the driveway.
I have to remind myself that Bailey’s a kid— a stupid one —but still a kid. I can’t forget, or I’ll consider knocking his teeth out for how he spoke to Kaitlyn and Mirabelle.
I open the back door of her car for him, shaking my head. “She’s here because you’re her brother, and she loves you. She’s not the enemy. I don’t know who is, but I can sure as shit tell you it’s not Mirabelle.”
“You don’t know everything, Henry,” he says roughly, climbing into the car. I shut the door behind him, turning to look at Mirabelle in disbelief as Hunter walks around to get in. Mirabelle drags a hand over her face, shaking her head.
I follow my instincts, closing the gap between us to pull her into my arms. She sinks against me for a moment, and I’m at a loss. I feel slightly more grounded holding her, but I know we need to go. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shoved Bailey,” I say, but I’m not sorry. I’m just hoping I didn’t upset her more than the situation already did.
“Which time?” she asks, her voice muffled by my shirt.
Is this supposed to feel as natural as it does? I know I’m attracted to Mira, and I care about her, but what the hell does it mean if I breathe easier when I’m around her? If she makes me forget about all the pressure riding on my shoulders this season?
“I’m not sorry,” I admit, shoving those thoughts away as Mirabelle snorts, pulling back.
“You shouldn’t be, but I appreciate your help. I’m sure he would have put up a bigger fight if you weren’t here,” she says, and I open the door for her. “ Merci .” 22 Mirabelle offers me the barest of smiles. I’m starting to have a whole new appreciation for the French language.
“De rien.” 23
Bailey smells like he belongs in the basement of a fraternity house, but I’m hoping he doesn’t get sick before we get back to their house.
I glance in the rearview mirror, noting that Hunter and Bailey could not be further apart in the backseat. Obviously, they’re fighting about something, but whatever it is, it doesn’t make sense for Bailey to be so upset with Mirabelle.
“How’s soccer going, Bailey?” I ask, poking the bear. Bailey stays silent, but Mirabelle turns sharply to face me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, but I ignore her. This might be one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done, but Mirabelle isn’t going to get answers if he remains silent.
“I would think as a senior, you’d be getting plenty of playing time with how many scouts were at your games this summer. Have you started looking at schools?” I push further, and Hunter’s looking at me questioningly too. “Bailey?”
“I don’t know why you’re asking me about this when I know she told you I quit the team,” Bailey responds tightly.
“Why’d you quit? You’re really good.”
I mean it too. Bailey is really fucking good at soccer, and furthermore, he loves it. I remember Sebastian bragging about him last spring because Duke was looking into offering him a spot on their team, and they have one of the best programs in the country.
Mirabelle is shaking her head next to me, and I soften my voice. “B, we’re all worried about you. If you talk to us, then maybe we can help.”
“I don’t want your help. You don’t care about me. The only reason you’re saying you care is because you’re fucking my sister.”
I clench my jaw so tightly I’d be shocked if I didn’t crack a tooth. Mirabelle shifts in the passenger seat, and that’s when I notice she’s chewing on her nails again. I’ve noticed it’s something she does when she’s feeling out of control, and my patience is starting to run thin.
“Instead of ripping into Mira for doing nothing wrong, maybe you could say what you’re actually pissed about.”
Bailey’s head moves in the mirror, his eyes rimmed in red finding mine. “Maybe she did do something wrong. Have you ever thought about that, Henry? Perfect fucking Mirabelle who could walk on water. How could any of us ever live up to her?” Bailey mocks.
Perfect fucking Mirabelle? Is that what he thinks about her?
I’ve watched her run at a higher capacity over the last few days than any human should be capable of, but she does it with a smile. She doesn’t complain about it; she is desperate to prove she belongs.
“B, come on. That’s not true,” Hunter pipes in, and now I’m wondering if I should have asked Mirabelle to drive so I could have sat in the back seat with Bailey.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Why do there have to be sides?” Hunter asks, and Bailey falls silent once more.
This time, for Mirabelle’s sake, I let the conversation die completely. I turn the background music up higher, my heart aching at the sight of Mirabelle chewing her nails fucking bloody. I shouldn’t have pushed him, but I hoped he’d give me something other than whatever the hell he’s blaming her for.
I reach over to grab her hand in a smooth motion because I can’t stand the sight of her hurting, even if it’s self-inflicted, entwining her fingers with mine again to rest them on her thigh.
The faint squeeze she gives me eases the tightness in my chest, even though it should be climbing higher the closer we get to finally talking with her parents.
~
Thalia rushes to hug Mirabelle the second she steps out of the car while Sebastian hangs back on the front stairs. Bailey wavers, catching himself before he tips over after climbing out of the car.
“Bailey,” Sebastian says sharply, and I know all too well how it can cut through to the bone, flaying you open from the inside out. “Go to your room. Now .”
Bailey scoffs as Hunter hangs his head, lingering by me. I’m not sure I’m the safest person to stand by when it comes to being here. Bailey brushes past his father, disappearing into the house, and I’m shocked he doesn’t slam the front door behind him.
“Henry, why don’t we go out back and talk.” Sebastian’s dark eyes feel as if they can see right through me as my confidence wanes. It’s a statement, not a question up for debate.
“Okay,” I agree calmly, and Thalia gives me a warm smile, so drastically different from the last few occasions we’ve been in the same vicinity. I wonder what caused the change of heart, but I’m not complaining if it means I’m no longer being accused of grooming Mirabelle.
Sebastian steps into the house, leaving the front door open for me to follow. I’ve been here so many times over the years, but I’ve never felt this much anxiety. Normally, I’d relax the moment I stepped through the door, but instead, my stomach is in knots. Is this what livestock feel like as they’re lured into the slaughterhouse?
Owen isn’t here to step in and keep Bash from killing me, but I’m hoping after what I heard in the car, murder isn’t a possibility.
My hands are embarrassingly sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants as we step out onto the wraparound deck, overlooking the ocean. The salt air immediately hits me, and it feels like I’m home.
There’s a reason my tattoo sleeve is centered around Poseidon and the ocean. I look out at the water, hearing the waves crash, and I understand that the only predictable thing is how unpredictable it can be. Maybe that’s part of what draws me to Mirabelle.
She reminds me of the ocean with her natural beauty and unpredictability. I’d happily drown in her waves any day.
“I was wrong. I’m sorry,” Sebastian starts, leaning on the railing. His shoulders sink as he glances at me, and I can tell he means it. For the first time ever, I don’t see him as this legendary player I’ve been trying to live up to. I see Sebastian as another person who knows what it feels like to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say, taking the spot next to him.
“If you say nothing happened when she was . . . a minor ,” he struggles to say it, and I don’t dare interrupt. He looks back out over the water. “Then I believe you. I know I said a lot of things in the heat of the moment that I didn’t mean, but this is hard for me to understand, Henry. I’m trying to, but I’m also being honest with you, and I’m asking you to give me the same respect.”
God, I want to be honest. I should admit everything is fake between us, but even thinking that feels like another lie. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s not fake.
“That’s fair,” I agree, following his gaze to the cluster of clouds brewing in the distance over the water.
“You’re older than her, and it worries me. I know what kind of man you are and that she’s an adult, but Mirabelle’s my baby girl. I can’t help wondering how many times I’ve left the two of you alone unsupervised over the years. It caught me off guard, and truthfully? I was hurt you didn’t come to me yourself. That day at the field, I was out of line. I was on edge after the fire the night before, and then to learn from a press release that you and Mira were together . . . I let my emotions get the best of me.”
“Bash, I swear to you, nothing has ever happened between us until after the Super Bowl. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you first. I never intended to hurt anyone, but especially not you and Thalia. It all happened so quickly, and we were still trying to figure everything out when the pictures from the fire were posted.”
Sebastian absently taps his fingers on the railing as he inhales deeply. “Thank you for saying that. An apology doesn’t excuse what I said, bu—”
“You were saying them out of love for Mirabelle. I get it. It’s okay.” I have never felt more guilty than I do in this moment.
“Thank you for being there for Mirabelle, in more ways than one, but especially today.”
“Of course. She means a lot to me.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. He shouldn’t be thanking me.
“I’m glad to hear that. She’s a force to be reckoned with, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t breakable. Be careful with her love and trust, Mira doesn’t give it easily. She’s exactly like her mother in that regard, and if you care about Mirabelle like I think you do, don’t let her be an almost in your life. You’ll spend the rest of your life regretting it,” he warns, knowingly. I feel like there’s more to that than he’s saying, but I’m not sure it’s my place to ask. “I don’t want to dwell on this anymore than we have to, so if you’re willing, can we move past this?” Sebastian asks, and I nod, but his face doesn’t relax. In fact, the tension radiating from him puts me on edge, and I thought we were supposed to be past the hard part of the conversation. “I need to ask you about something, and I need you to be honest with me. It’s important.”
Oh fuck, he knows. He knows the Panthers were going to trade me. All of this was for nothing. “Okay,” I say, tightening my hands into fists to hide the shaking of how anxious this makes me. I don’t want to disappoint him.
“Are you in contact with your biological mother?” he asks, and I’m not sure how Sebastian knows about the phone calls, but I’m so fucking relieved he doesn’t know about my contract that I don’t even care.
“I wouldn’t call it being in contact. She calls once or twice a week, usually from a new number after I decline enough times, but I never answer. I did a couple of times a few years ago, but all she wanted was money, so I’ve been avoiding her calls since then. I tried changing my number a few times, but it doesn’t matter. She keeps finding it, and it’s not worth the hassle of changing my number every time.”
“So you haven’t seen her in person?”
I shake my head, failing to understand why this is so important. “No. I haven’t seen her since I was a kid, but why are you asking?”
He scratches the back of his neck, and I have a bad feeling I’m missing some crucial piece of information here. “Don’t worry about it, but if she continues calling, will you forward the numbers to me?”
What? What does she have to do with Sebastian? Do I even want to know? The questions linger on the tip of my tongue as he pats me on the back.
“You’re playing well this season. Keep it up, and you might have a shot at a postseason run your first year starting.” Sebastian smiles at me, and it’s a refreshing change of pace from the hard looks I’ve been on the receiving end of for the last month and a half.
“You think?” I ask, accepting the change in conversation as the wind picks up.
“I do. I haven’t missed a game. You held your own in Georgia when a lot of people would have let that crowd get to them,” he says, and that means the fucking world to me. “How much is Owen fining you for missing today?”
“Seventeen grand,” I admit, but there wasn’t a shot in hell I was letting Mirabelle deal with today by herself. Owen told me his hands were tied because it would look like favoritism if he didn’t.
He laughs, shaking his head. “He took it easy on you. Send me the invoice, I’ll take care of it. My kid’s the reason you left, so the least I can do is take care of it.”
“Actually, I’d like to pay it myself. It was my choice to leave today, knowing I’d be fined. I wanted to be there for Mira.”
Sebastian studies me for a moment, his face softening. “We should get back inside. There’s a storm coming, and I think I have a kid to ground for life,” he says, and the clouds look a lot closer than they did a few minutes ago.