Chapter Twenty-Eight Archer
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Archer
There were too many fucking people around for step one.
I stood outside the door to the training fields and watched the commotion with glass separating me and my teammates.
Watched their faces as they talked and laughed, as they ran sprints and did conditioning in groups of two and three and four, coaches milling around with clipboards and tablets in hand.
This was the important stuff before the whistle blew.
It wasn’t where the world watched, but it was where we put the work in to make us strong. Fast. Capable of inhuman bouts of athleticism. It wasn’t hard to draw the comparisons between days like this and what I’d talked about with Analise.
We put in the work, day in and day out, for months before the fans filled the stadium, because if we didn’t, we’d come up short when it mattered most.
With Remi, I’d tried to skip all those steps.
The thought of taking time and space to feel things out felt like a punishment, felt like rejection, but what she was talking about was effort.
Not when it was easy or sexy or fun. But putting in the time, dissecting what worked, strengthening what didn’t.
I’d done that with my body in the weight room until I could trust it to do the things I asked it to and push myself past the limits of what was considered normal.
I’d done it with my mind, watching hours and hours and hours of film, memorizing plays until random words came together in X’s and O’s that I could visualize perfectly.
I’d done it after my injury, pushing through pain and discomfort to reset my own capabilities.
I needed to do it with her.
But first, I needed to do it in other places too. For me.
And it started here.
Coach King stood on the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest, watching everything with a stern expression on his face. I hadn’t seen him in a few days, and I sucked in a deep breath as I walked in his direction.
He lifted his chin as I approached, and as soon as I came close enough, his gaze sharpened when he clocked the bruise spreading across my cheekbone and underneath my eye.
I stood by his side and watched the other players, exhaling slowly when neither of us spoke right away. Some teammates glanced in our direction, mainly the veteran players who were still trying to decide if I was someone they could trust under center once the season began.
“You gonna tell me what happened, or should I guess?”
“Not sure you’d be able to guess this one, Coach.”
He nodded, finally cutting his gaze to the side to study my profile. “You probably don’t want to talk about it.”
“Not really.” I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. “But I’m going to, all the same. I think you’ll want to know in case I get arrested again.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “What happened, Evans?”
I exhaled heavily and turned to face him head-on. “I got into an argument with my father over something to do with my sister. It got physical, and he punched me.”
Coach’s face went slack with shock, and he blinked a few times. “Okay.”
“I didn’t punch him back, but I did shove him up against a wall.
And I’d do it again, given the chance, because he’s threatening to send her away, and I will not let him do that.
” My throat tightened around all this honesty, but I didn’t let it stem the words either.
“I lied about something big to protect her, and he found out about it.”
His eyes were hard as steel. “Lied about what?”
I licked my lips and stared down at the field.
Could I do this?
He might not believe me. He might berate me for being stupid and rash. Tell me I’d disappointed him.
Or he might not do any of those things.
It might work out just fine.
“About the DUI,” I told him. “I wasn’t the one driving. She was. She can’t afford an accident, not with the way my father treats her, so I took the fall.”
Coach’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t speak. He blinked repeatedly, his brow lowering as he let out a stunned exhale.
“I’d do that again too,” I told him with a challenging lift of my chin.
“But I’m telling you now because my father may press assault charges.
I’m telling you because I want to earn my place on this team again.
I want to do better. And I don’t want to lose your respect or the respect of my teammates anymore.
” I shook my head. “It’s too late explaining all of this to you, but the biggest reason I acted the way I did when you first came to Buffalo was because of him.
It had nothing to do with you or anyone else.
When I gave you shit about always wanting to be perfect?
That’s because I had his voice in my head, telling me that’s what I needed to be.
What he expected of me. And I never fulfilled that expectation.
But I can handle it. The more he keeps his focus on me, the less he pays attention to my sister—and believe me, that’s the best gift I can give her. ”
“Fucking hell, Evans,” he breathed. “You’re just telling me this now? Why didn’t you come to me right away? I could’ve helped you. I could’ve helped her.”
There’d been so many times that I wondered how he’d react. If I was honest. If I let down the armor and allowed him in. Every time I did, I told myself that I couldn’t. That it looked weak. That I didn’t need him. Didn’t need anyone.
Turned out, I was really fucking wrong.
“Because I don’t trust easily,” I admitted.
“When people react negatively to the things I’ve done, my brain immediately tells me it’s rejection.
That I’m too much to handle and no one will ever be able to do that.
And I’ve never known how to ask for help.
” I swallowed. “He didn’t teach me how to do that.
But I’m telling you now. And I’m . . . I’m asking for help. ”
Coach ripped his hat off and ran a hand through his hair, a sure sign that I’d flustered him thoroughly.
The man had ice in his veins, so this felt like a strange win.
“Okay.” He stared hard across the field, his gaze unfocused as my teammates worked around us.
Then he gave me a long look. “You trust me?”
“Yes.”
God, it felt good to answer so easily. The weight of the last two years melted off my frame when he gave me an encouraging nod.
Coach set his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You’re part of this team, Archer. Part of this family. And we will have your back—but you have to trust them, too, okay?”
He was asking me to set aside my pride. To humble myself in front of guys who might never do the same in return. Some of them would, of course, but most still looked at me with an edge of distrust, and I couldn’t blame them.
Wasn’t that part of the lesson I needed to learn anyway?
If I stayed, if I let this be uncomfortable, it didn’t mean something was wrong. It didn’t mean I was failing. It meant I was fucking trying. I was doing the kind of work that was necessary to have the kind of fulfilling life that my sister talked about.
With my eyes on Coach, I nodded, feeling better than I had in days. “Okay.”
His mouth edged up with a smile, something that didn’t happen very often. “Good.”
He placed the whistle in his mouth and blew two short bursts. Activity on the field stopped, all eyes swinging in our direction.
“Everyone,” Coach called, “meeting in thirty minutes. Grab the rest of the guys and meet us in the team auditorium. There’s something Evans and I want to talk to you about.”
There were only two people needed for step two.
On the front door of my father’s house was an ornate brass knocker in the shape of a lion, its gaping mouth holding a heavy handle that had probably never been used in all the years he’d lived here.
Evans was etched into a plate underneath the handle, the markings of the letters still pristine after all these years.
It was just after sunrise, and even though I could have marched into the house, I raised my hand and used that ugly-ass knocker simply to prove a point.
Nothing happened at first. It felt like I waited for an hour, but in reality it was only a couple minutes, so I knocked again, a bit harder this time.
When the door opened, it was clear he hadn’t been expecting me. He wasn’t in his suit and tie yet—just a black robe and cotton sleep pants, his silver hair slightly unkempt.
His voice was rough with disuse. “It’s six in the fucking morning, Archer. What are you doing here?”
“You’re not coming to the courthouse this afternoon. Just wanted to make that clear.”
Father narrowed his eyes. “I’m still your lawyer on this case.”
“You’re fired,” I said easily. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“Is your sister ever coming back?”
“Doubtful.” I lowered my voice. “And you won’t ask her to.”
His eyebrows rose slowly. “I won’t? It’s amazing how sure you sound.”
“Because she’s almost eighteen, and if you press this, I’ll help her file for legal emancipation.” Despite the shocked huff he let out, I held his gaze. “She has a job working for me, and you’ve given us plenty of ammunition to tell a judge why she disagrees with your parenting choices.”
The color faded slowly from his face, but I didn’t take much pleasure in it.
Instead of waiting for him to respond, I kept my voice pleasant.
“She said something to me yesterday that got me thinking. About how, when I don’t know how to react, I lash out.
So do you.” Even though his eyes flickered, he didn’t respond, so I continued.
“My mother didn’t, though. She fled. And I lay awake last night, wondering why I’ve never thought to ask you why she left.
I never worried about it as a child, and I think it’s because I knew I could never, ever ask a question like that. ”
“Your mother left because she couldn’t handle—”
“You,” I interrupted. “She couldn’t handle you. I was a kid who never stepped out of line. Analise was practically a baby. And you were the only adult she had around her. So who’s to blame for that? It’s not us.”
He started to speak, but I held up my hand and took a step closer into his space.
“You’ve cost me so much more than you realize.
You’ve cost Analise too. And maybe when you’re alone in this big, ugly house and the only people who are willing to be around you are on your payroll, maybe you’ll feel regret someday. ”
“Do the dramatic pronouncements make you feel better, son?”
“Shockingly, yes. I should’ve tried them earlier.” I leaned in like I was sharing a secret. “No matter how many times you said it to me, I never once considered saying it back to you.”
“Said what?” he snapped.
“You are a disappointment. You failed us. The man who expects perfection out of everyone around him is an utter failure at the thing that matters most, and I needed you to hear that. Not because I hate you, but because hearing it might be the only thing that makes you feel an iota of contrition.”
“You’ll both come back eventually,” he said, voice chillingly calm, but I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes.
“No, we won’t. You’re not allowed around me anymore.
You’re not allowed at games. At events. At anything to do with my life after today.
And as soon as I can help Analise get her paperwork filed, you won’t be around her either.
” As I looked at his face, I didn’t feel sad.
I didn’t feel angry. In truth, I didn’t feel much of anything.
“We’re ready to move on, and I hope you do too. ”
“Move on?” He laughed under his breath. “I can still send her away. I can still press assault charges. You’ll be ruined.”
“You won’t do any of those things. You were never going to.
” His eyes flickered, and I knew I was right.
“I couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about all the things I need to undo about myself and how ready I am to make changes.
And then it hit me. You won’t send her anywhere, just like you never would have pressed charges.
If you did either of those things, it would make you look bad, and that’s the one thing I’ve always been able to rely on when it comes to you. ”
His voice was tight and uncomfortable. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”
“No,” I said. “Not even close. I’ve got so much to fix.
” When I exhaled a quiet laugh, my entire frame felt lighter, like I’d released a thousand pounds of weight.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but I’m going to try.
If it works, I’ll have the kind of life I never thought I’d get.
Someone to love me, someone to build a family with.
” I shook my head. “Not that you’ll be a part of it.
But maybe you’ll get to a point where you’re happy that I’m happy. ”
Father snorted, a red wash over his cheekbones that gave him away. “Would you even believe me if I told you I was?”
For a beat, I simply stared at him. Slowly, a smile grew.
Then I laughed. I laughed hard. He didn’t understand it, of course, but I didn’t need him to.
When the laughter finally faded, I set my hand on my chest and let out a deep, relieved breath.
“No. No, I wouldn’t.” Then I tipped my chin.
“I’ll send someone for Analise’s things in a few days. See that they’re ready.”
The door slammed shut, and I whistled as I walked back to my truck.
Step two had felt really fucking good.