Chapter 20
KC
Reality came back to me in bits and pieces. The deep sleep and exhaustion clung to me, holding me under for longer than I would’ve wanted. Somewhere in the apartment, people were talking, and Ren’s laughter followed. Other fragments of knowledge hit me.
Pa’s voice.
The smell of food.
A small warm, furry body cuddled into me.
I smiled when Mr. Wiggles burrowed closer. He made a soft, happy dook sound that melted away any residues of heaviness that sat on my chest. I kissed his head, and he chattered, making me chuckle.
“Hey, Mr. Wiggles.”
He lived up to his name, wiggling closer to me.
Dook. Dook. Dook.
His face tilted up, and I kissed him on his tiny nose.
With bleary eyes, I glanced around the room.
The curtains were open, letting in the morning sunlight.
I was the only one in here, other than Mr. Wiggles, and more laughter told me Ren and Oli were already in the kitchen, possibly with Pa, if I’d heard right as I’d returned to the land of the conscious.
The events from yesterday and last night hit me with a barrage of memories and emotions. My chest tightened again. I exhaled, forcing myself to stay calm. I’d broken down enough last night. Shameful heat flooded my cheeks and I groaned.
Rolling out of bed hurt, and Mr. Wiggles made a chattering sound of protest.
“Sorry, boy.” I gave him a gentle pat and got to my feet. The world spun for a moment, and I closed my eyes as I rocked back and forth.
Strong arms enclosed me.
When I opened my eyes again, Ren was there. His bird’s-nest hair stuck up in all directions, but at least he’d dressed in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt. The last thing I needed was him walking around naked if Pa was here.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Ren kissed my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a whole damned football team at the same time.”
Ren’s face did something complicated, caught between wanting to laugh but also fighting with the sadness of what’d happened.
My boyfriend was a complex dude. One day he followed his instincts, gave comfort, and offered his love without realizing what he was doing, other times he overthought emotions and hesitated. This was one of those latter times.
“Hey.” I cupped his cheek. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I should’ve seen it.”
“You couldn’t have.” I frowned. “Even I didn’t see that Coach was going to bench me.” The stab of pain returned, spreading across my lungs and through my veins as poison. Anguish over what I’d lost threatened to sink me, and I pushed away the thoughts as roughly as I could. “Is Pa here?”
“Mm-hmm. Yeah. He’s an asshole.” Ren grinned. “But I like him.”
“He’s perfectly polite,” I argued teasingly.
“Are we talking about the same guy? I woke up to him already sitting at my kitchen island, with plans spread across the surface. I don’t want to know how he managed to get inside. Twice, by the way. This is the second time he snuck through a locked door and well-managed building security.”
If only he knew the truth. I had no plans to tell him Pa was an assassin for a secret society, though.
For starters, he probably wouldn’t believe me, but also, I wanted to keep him safe.
The less he and Oli knew, the better. Pa only told me when I was old enough to make sure I stayed safe.
Ren and Oli didn’t need to know. Not yet. Hopefully, not ever.
“Pa means well,” I said instead, pressing my lips together.
Ren chuckled. “He does.”
I blinked, surprised.
He shrugged. “I don’t know if you remember, but I called him last night. He helped you. He’s here this morning to check in on you and make a plan to move forward.”
“Oh.” Last night was a blur. I’d lost myself in darkness I’d never experienced. The last time I’d felt close to breaking was when I was a kid living on the streets, pickpocketing to feed myself. The only thing that had kept me going was the need to survive.
“Come here. Wear this.” Ren walked to the closet and dragged out his hockey jersey. I tilted my head when he tugged me closer and stripped off the shirt I’d worn to bed before slipping on the jersey.
“Why?” I plucked the jersey and sniffed it, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and Ren’s smell, which had permanently embedded itself in the material from game after game of sweating into it.
“Because Oliver’s not the only one who should get to wear a boyfriend’s jersey.” He winked and brought me in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, stubble scraping across my prickly chin. “I love you, Kansas. Seeing you like that was hell. It reminded me of—”
He broke off, but I knew what he was going to say. Andrea. His old babysitter, the one who’d died by suicide after suffering from an eating disorder. A ball of guilt grew in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head, determined when he grasped my shoulders. “You were asking for help, so we need to figure out what we’re going to do from here. Together. All of us, even your crazy Pa.”
“Don’t say that too loud. He’s just starting to like you.
” I smoothed my hand down the jersey and over the stitched logo of a hockey player looking massively tall and Godzilla-like over high-rise buildings.
Beneath were the words “The Homeward Bladezillas.” There was something comforting about wearing Ren’s jersey, and the turmoil roiling inside me quieted.
The stress didn’t disappear, but it shut up for a while.
“Come on.” Ren led me out into the kitchen. Pa had taken control of the island, with papers spread across its surface. Oliver leaned against the counter on the other side, a bowl clutched in one hand while he shoved cereal into his mouth with a spoon.
“Good morning,” Pa said without looking up. Of course he heard us. He had the hearing of a goddamned bat. Well, an assassin, too. When he glanced toward me, the hard lines on his face softened and he stood from his stool, cutting the distance between us so he could bring me into a hug.
He was much smaller than me, but I folded like a pretzel to fit into his strong arms. No matter how old I got, he was still my pa.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to tell him okay but shut it again. If anyone could tell I was lying, it was Pa. He might’ve only raised me for half my life, but he’d made it his mission to be the best parent.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I dropped my head against his shoulder. “Tired, still. Angry, but resigned.”
“You don’t need to be.” Pa ruffled my hair. “We’ll figure this out.”
“You can’t change Coach’s mind.”
“Then, that’s his loss. But I also understand he cares for you and I’m sure they’re worried.” The corner of Pa’s lips twitched, and I grinned.
“How much did that hurt you to say?”
“A lot. I’d rather go there and deal with him. But I’m maturing, too. Not everything can be solved by death.”
“What?” Ren asked.
Pa ignored him. He tapped my cheek with his forefinger. “I’ve been thinking about other options. You love football, but you never planned on going pro. It wasn’t your dream. But football kept you busy at times when you weren’t working on your cars and bikes. You hate stopping.”
I snorted. True. I didn’t have a lot of work coming through with fixing bikes and cars, so I’d put all my focus on football until it’d become an obsession. Clearly, not a healthy one.
“So, we need to find you something else to keep you going that won’t be detrimental to your health.”
“I have a football scholarship.” Even as I said the words, I knew where this conversation would go. We’d argued about this topic more than once.
Pa huffed. “And I have money. You don’t need the scholarship. I can pay for college. You can let it go to someone who really needs the financial assistance.”
“Pa—”
“No. It isn’t worth your well-being. You are more important than cash. If paying for your classes will make you less stressed and healthier, then it’s worth it.” He stood straighter, chin tipped up. “I’m your parent and that’s my job. Let me do it.”
How could I argue with him? But where did that leave football?
“So, I give up football and then what?”
Oli placed his bowl near the sink and came around the island to stand beside Ren. He was dressed in a loose pair of pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt, but he was handsome as ever with those big doe eyes and curls that clung to his temples. “You have plenty of options. You’re smart.”
Pa hummed. “What about working on motorcycles? You always used to like to do that? I could make some calls. Luke could make a lot of phone calls if you’re fixing motorcycles.”
I blinked. “Pa, it’s early.”
“And I’m efficient.” He smiled, and while it wasn’t quite smug, it was certainly confident. I wouldn’t put it past Pa to one day aim for world domination. He was driven. “I also called around and they’re looking for a coach for a youth football team over in Havensberry.”
“On the south side?” I asked.
He dragged me to the island and passed me a piece of paper he’d printed out.
On it was a picture of a group of kids, no older than ten, who were lined up for a team photo.
The football padding was huge on them, but they had the kind of determined expressions on their faces that made me smile.
They were hamming it up, trying to look mean.
“They come from underprivileged families. Money is regularly raised to pay for their trips and equipment. I only found out about them today, but even if you choose not to coach them, I’m going to send them money each year to help.
” Pa’s face turned all gooey, an expression I didn’t see often on him.
But when it came to supporting kids in need, Pa was weak.
He’d told me once the weakness only took root once he’d adopted me.
Every child he came across, he saw me in them.
“You have a heart after all,” Ren teased.
I winced when Pa spun toward him.
“I’d watch your tongue, Mister Booth, unless you want it cut out.”
I needed to run interference. Ren couldn’t save himself if he didn’t know he was walking into a spiderweb. He was a tiny, defenseless bug compared to Pa. “What if I want to keep playing football?”
Pa and Ren both paused and looked at me. Oli frowned in concern, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.
An ache formed behind my ribs as the conversation with Coach came back to me, the flashes of anger I’d felt twinging at me.
He’d always been the kind of coach to put players first. I knew that the moment I joined the team.
He’d made it clear that when the situation called for it, he’d bench us if he needed to, and we’d all agreed to his terms to play.
Now I was on the receiving end of his rules, and he’d broken my heart. My will.
Everything I’d done was for football.
To my surprise, it was Ren who answered. “Then, you can play football, but you have to fight your illness first. Your coach won’t let you back on the team until you’re healthy, and we want you to be healthy. You’re not eating properly. I made an appointment with Doctor Griffin for today.”
“You did?” Pa shot him a surprised glance.
“He’s been working with KC, and he can help him through this new development.
I explained the situation, and he made room for KC.
” Ren wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tugged playfully on the jersey.
“Whatever you want to do, we’ll follow your lead.
You’re in control of your life.” He flinched subtly, but I didn’t miss it.
“But if your head gets bad, you come to us, okay? You talk to us.”
Andrea’s legacy would forever haunt Ren. While I’d never experienced the loss of a good friend to suicide, I understood his fear.
“I promise.”
“So, what is the plan?” Pa asked, eyeing me carefully. “You’re not better just because you woke up feeling different from last night. These emotions don’t disappear.”
“I need to talk to Coach.” I rubbed my chest over my twinging heart.
My stomach twisted at the thought of how I’d spoken to him in his office, at how furious I’d been.
“Find out what I need to do to prove I’m ready to be back on the team.
” I leaned my head against Ren’s and sighed.
“And take that appointment with Doctor Griffin today. Talk about what happened and work on his strategies. I do want to get better. I hate not being able to eat normally. I hate the thoughts in my head getting bigger. I wish I could silence them.”
“The brain’s a liar.” Oli stepped forward into me and Ren, and we wrapped ourselves around him. “But you can train it, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can. And I will.”
Pa sighed. “I don’t agree with it because I hate what football has done to you. But I love you. If that’s what you want, then I’ll help you make it happen. We’ll take you to the best nutritionists in the state if we have to, ones with experience with eating issues. We’ll figure this out.”
I smiled, warmth spreading and pushing out the pain. “Thanks, Pa. You’re the best dad anyone could ask for.”
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.” I let him kiss my temple even though I was still in the cuddle pile of my two boyfriends. Anger and resentment lingered deep in my soul, along with the disappointment and grief, but I could win against it. I knew I could. And I had the support to do it, too.