Chapter 18 #2
I expect the guy to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong, but one look at an angry Cane with his chest heaving above him, and he quickly finishes standing, grabbing his bloody nose and darting for the door. Once he’s gone, everyone in the room seems to be staring at us.
“Carry on,” Cane calls out. “There’s nothing to see here.”
After a moment or two, everyone finally seems to go back to what they were doing, which is dry-humping each other, dancing, drinking, or smoking, and Cane turns toward me again.
“Sorry, Catch. I know you probably had that covered and all, but I couldn’t fucking stand to see him touching you, unwarranted.”
As much as I’d like to be annoyed, how in the world can I be when he’s looking down at me the way he is right now? Like he’s so concerned with my well-being.
No man—besides my dad—has ever looked at me like that.
Finally, I relax my shoulders and attempt to flash him a small smile.
“It’s okay,” I say, cringing. “He was disgusting.”
“Yeah, he was,” he agrees. “I’m so sorry he did that.
Motherfucker deserved that broken nose—and worse.
” Cane’s hand reaches forward, touching my side tenderly.
Only, instead of feeling my stomach churn the way it did when the other guy’s hand touched me, now …
the spot where his hand rests just about catches on fire. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m good,” I say honestly. “How were the trick-or-treaters?”
Dropping his hand down from my body, he reaches up, adjusting his hat.
“There were a lot of them. My mom sent my dad back to the store for more candy twice.” He pauses, reaching in his back pocket, and takes out a few small packets of Skittles.
“I grabbed these for you. I noticed you seem to always have the snack-sized bags with you for when your sugar is low.”
All I can do is stare at the packets of candy as he holds them out in front of me. Maybe these packets don’t seem like a lot to most people, but to me … it tells me that he pays attention to small things. And for some reason, those small things mean a lot.
“Thanks, Cane,” I say, somehow peeling my eyes from his as I take them from him and slide them into my crossbody purse. “They’re even my favorite flavor.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you with the Wild Berry ones, so I figured that was a safe bet.” He grins. “I’m more of an original Skittles guy myself.”
I’m still so caught up on the fact that he saw those in the candy stash and thought to grab them for me. I know we’re supposed to be fake friends, but that’s something an actual friend would do.
Who am I kidding? Haven is my friend and does nice things for me all the time, and my heart’s never pounded like this any of those times …
“I’m sorry you were enjoying yourself and that asshole ruined it,” he says dipping his head down closer to my ear when the music gets seemingly louder.
“And I’m sorry if I made it worse by punching him and creating a scene.
I feel like you always take things so seriously and never get to just …
let loose. I’m sorry that happened when you finally did. ”
Again, he’s noticing something about me, and my heart squeezes even though I inwardly tell it not to.
“It’s okay,” I say when he pulls back. “Parties aren’t really my scene anyway.”
His mouth opens, but I can feel my phone vibrating inside my purse.
I could ignore it and listen to whatever Cane is about to say, but considering everything going on with my dad, I quickly pull it out, and my heart drops when I see that it’s my mom because we talked not that long ago, and she knew I was going to a party. Right away, I know something’s wrong.
I slide my thumb across the screen to accept it and bring the phone to my ear before quickly darting through the crowd, barging outside onto the porch.
“Mom?” The word comes from my mouth in a clear panic as I start down the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“Baby,” she sobs. “The last thing I want to do is pull you from school and the team because I know that’s not what Dad would want. But …” She stops when her voice cracks. “His body is shutting down. They don’t know if he’ll make it twenty-four hours.”
I need to be strong for her—I know that. I need to hold it together like I always do in stressful situations, only … I can’t.
And when I reach the bottom step, my legs give out on me, and I fall to my knees on the grass as everything starts to spin.
My dad is going to die. He’s going to die, and I might not even be there to say goodbye.
CANE
The second she takes her phone from her purse, I know something is wrong. Her face pales, and without another word, she pushes past me, weaves through the crowd of people dressed up for Halloween, and runs outside.
Maybe she wants privacy, but I don’t care. So, I follow right behind her.
And when she takes those few steps, her hand falling to the side of her body, and she drops to her knees, the phone landing on the grass, I know something is wrong.
Harley begins to cry, and after grabbing her phone from the grass, I lift her into my arms and bring it to my ear.
“Harley?” a female voice screams. “Harley? Are you there?! Answer me!”
“Mrs. Meadows?” I say, guessing it’s her mother.
“Who are you?” she sobs. “Where is Harley?”
I feel her shake against my chest, and she buries her face against my hoodie.
“She’s okay,” I reassure her. “I’m going to take her home. I’m her friend, and I promise she’s safe.”
“Please … put the phone to her ear,” she continues to cry. “Please.”
“All right,” I whisper, continuing to walk before we reach her yard.
Bringing the phone to her ear, I can’t hear what her mom says, but Harley begins to shake harder against me.
“How will I get home to say goodbye?” Harley’s voice practically squeaks through her tears. “Okay.” She sniffles. “I love you, Mom. Please … please tell them to do everything to keep Dad alive so that I can say goodbye.”
My heart sinks, and right away, I feel sick. See … by the sounds of it, her father is dying. And the Dead Parent Club? It’s a club I wish I didn’t have to be part of. No one tells you how hard it is to be a member, and soon … Harley will know exactly how that feels.
Once the call ends, I walk up the steps and sit down on the bench, keeping her body against mine.
“My dad …” she barely whispers. “He has cancer, and he’s not going to get better.”
Her shoulders shake, and I rub my palm up and down her back, just to let her know I’m here.
“I’m so sorry, Harland,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. “I am so, so sorry. I had no idea.”
It hits me—the reason she suddenly can’t afford her medication is likely the same reason why she asked her mom how she was going to get home. I peel my phone from my pocket, searching for flights.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks when she notices what I’m looking up.
“Getting you home to say goodbye,” I murmur. “This one leaves in two and a half hours. We can be in Montana just before six in the morning tomorrow.”
She looks up at me while I hold her tightly, cradling her body against mine. “We?” she whispers, sniffling.
“Yeah, Catch,” I rasp. “If it’s okay, I’d like to go with you. I can stay outside or get a hotel room near the hospital. I just—” I stop. “I don’t want you to have to go all alone.”
Glossy eyes stare up at me. “What about baseball practice?”
“This is more important,” I answer evenly.
Slowly, she nods through a sob. “Thank you, Cane. I’ll pay you back every cent. I promise.”
Of course that’s what she’s worried about. Because she’s wired to take care of herself, and lately, she’s had to lean on me.
She may hate it, but I like being the guy she lets close enough to help her. I’ll wear that badge with fucking pride any day.
“I’m not worried about it.” I shake my head. “Let me help you pack your things up real quick, and we’ll go,” I say, slowly helping her up until she’s standing. As she starts to turn to go toward the house, my hand catches hers. “Harland?” I say, looking into her green eyes.
“Yeah?” she whispers weakly.
I can feel the pain in her voice, and it stabs at my heart. She looks so lost, so helpless right now, her shoulders sagging in defeat, knowing that she’s about to go through the hardest thing she may ever go through.
“I am so sorry you’re having to deal with all this.” I swallow, fighting back the lump that’s lodged itself into my throat. “I’ve been in your shoes, and I know nothing I or anyone else can say is going to make anything better. But just know I’m here, okay?”
Her lip trembles, and she nods faintly. I drop her wrist gently and follow her into the house.
I’d give anything to take away the hurt she’s about to feel. I’d do anything I could to change this night and make it so that this wasn’t part of her story. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power.
Harland Meadows may be the strongest woman I know, but no amount of strength is going to take away this pain or the one that is going to follow it. That much I know. And because of that, I don’t care how many practices I miss. I want to be there for the catcher.