Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
DALLAS
We pull in front of Haven’s parents’ house, and it’s more than obvious that she’s worked up by the way she’s shifting around in the passenger seat.
“It’s going to be okay, Short.” I squeeze her hand a little tighter, wishing we could go back to an hour ago when we were in her bed.
A moment that’ll be engraved in every inch of my brain for the rest of my life.
“Thanks,” she says nervously, lifting her free hand to her mouth.
“Don’t even do it,” I warn her, knowing that when she was younger, she chewed her nails. But it seems to be something she finally got control of.
Until now, apparently.
“You are kind of annoying,” she grumbles before letting out a long sigh as I kill the truck’s engine. “But also, thank you for coming here with me.”
Lifting her hand to my lips, I press a kiss to it. “You ready?”
“No,” she says, pouting. “But let’s go before he leaves for the game.”
The game isn’t till tonight, but Coach will get there hours early just like he always does.
We knew that if we wanted to tell him about everything with Tabor, we needed to do it before he left.
It’s bad enough we’re dropping this bomb on a game night, but we at least have to give the guy the day to let it settle.
Releasing her hand, I push my door open, and by the time I’m out and to the front of the truck, she is too. She stares up at her parents’ house, her shoulders slouching a bit.
On the way over, we talked about everything and agreed that while we couldn’t have secrets anymore, we probably should tell Noah first what’s going on between us before we unload it to her mom and dad.
It’s killing me not to hold her hand inside, but for now, if she thinks this is for the best, then that’s what we’ll do.
We walk to the door and she knocks.
“Uh, Short …” I utter, lifting a questioning brow. “This is your family’s house. Is the knock really necessary?”
She gives me a side-eye.
“I don’t know, QB, do you want to see your coach’s bare ass before the game tonight? Because let me tell you, my parents are grossly romantic. And now that my brother and I have moved out, there’s no way of knowing just how freaky things are getting in there.”
“Ew,” I croak. “That’s gross, and now all I can imagine is Coach’s ass, you sicko.”
“You’ll thank me later for knocking.” She shrugs. “I’m telling you.”
Before my brain is hit with more disturbing images of Coach King, the door swings open and I’ve never been more thankful to see Mrs. King, fully clothed and with her hair perfectly styled.
“Hi, baby!” She beams at Haven before pulling her in for a hug. “What a great surprise. Why’d you knock, though?”
“Because I’m not trying to see you and dad getting after it,” Haven grumbles. “Figured knocking would be safer.”
“It’s not like we’re just humping on the dining room table these days—we’re too old for that,” she says, amused. “That’s what we’ve got the cave for.”
“Mom!” Haven scolds, pulling back. “You’re gross, and I don’t want to hear another word about this ca— I’m not even saying the word. I’ll say room. Shut up about this room, whatever it may or may not be.”
She may not want to hear it, but now I’m genuinely curious if they actually have a sex cave or if she’s kidding. I’ve been inside this house countless times, and I’ve never seen one. Then again, obviously it’s locked.
Once her mom releases her, Haven walks into the house, and now, Anna pulls me in for a hug, squeezing me extra tight.
“Look at you two, just … out visiting us old folks.” She pulls back, winking. “Together.”
For so long, Anna has hinted around to wishing Haven and I were a couple. We always ignored it—though inside, it hurt hearing because I never thought it was possible. Haven is whole. And perfect. Right now, I’m helping her stay safe, but once I’m not, she’ll see how fucked up I really am.
When she releases me, and I hear the sounds of Haven and Coach’s voices, I’m brought out of the bubble that everything is all right.
Because Coach King is going to be pissed that we kept so much from him for weeks.
But also, he’s going to have to deal with Tabor, and I’m nervous there will be some fallout from that.
I mean, the motherfucker is certifiably crazy.
Following Anna down the hallway, we find Haven and her dad in the kitchen. His eyes narrow in question as he takes me in, and he glances at his daughter.
“What’s going on, Have?” he asks. “You two have more good news for me about D’s grades or what?”
Haven’s gaze shoots to me before swallowing sharply.
“You guys should sit down,” she says, waving her hand toward the table.
Anna and Coach look nervously at each other, but neither moves.
“If you’re pregnant, just say it,” Anna blurts out, every bit of the smile that was on her face gone. “Please.”
“Mom—” Haven groans, tossing her head back. “No. I’m not pregnant. My God.”
Coach literally leans over the counter and sighs in relief. He’s quiet for a moment or two before he straightens himself out.
“I don’t want to sit,” he finally says. “What is it that you need to tell us?”
They must be so confused, wondering what the hell we’re both doing here right now. I can’t even imagine what they think we’re going to say, but I have a feeling what they’re about to hear isn’t it.
Haven walks over to me before she turns back to face them again. Her hand brushes mine, almost like she needs that bit of touch to be able to say it. I glance at her, reading her expression and knowing she’s struggling to say the words.
“It’s Tabor, Coach,” I finally say. “For the past few weeks … he’s done some pretty fucked up shit. And now, it’s to the point where we can’t keep it to ourselves anymore.”
I can feel her tense beside me, and I decide right then I don’t give a fuck how it looks or what questions it may bring. I lace my fingers in hers and squeeze.
Both her parents’ eyes land where our hands are joined, but they lift their gaze again to me, needing more information.
“What—” Anna whispers. “What exactly are you telling us?”
My eyes float to Haven to find her bottom lip trembling. I don’t want to talk for her because this is her story to tell, but I also don’t want to force her to say things she isn’t ready to say.
“It’s bad, Mom,” she finally says, her voice a squeak. “It’s really bad.”
Anna’s eyebrows pull together, but she’s still unsure of what we’re actually trying to say.
“Please, come sit at the table with us,” Haven utters. “I have a lot to fill you in on.”
Coach’s face is white as a sheet, but with his wife’s hand in his, he walks over to the table and sits down. Across from them, Haven and I take a seat, and I keep her hand in mine, making sure she knows I’m right here.
I know that telling her parents about the pictures isn’t going to be easy, but we agreed on the way over that they need to know everything. Even if it hurts them, they need to know the magnitude of how fucked up Tabor Timmons truly is so they understand what their daughter is dealing with.
HAVEN
As I run through the series of events, trying to name off how they each happened, I freeze, my throat aching when I get to the worst part.
I’m ashamed to tell my parents that a guy I was having sex with took pictures of me naked. It’s embarrassing, and as someone who is so proud of my entire family, this feels like the lowest moment of my life.
Turning slightly toward Dallas, I can’t even speak to tell him what I need to, and yet, right away, he knows my request.
“You sure?” he whispers, and subtly, I nod.
He needs to tell them because I can’t do it.
“After the flowers showed up in her bedroom, I started to worry that he was more dangerous than I had assumed. I was afraid he had gone into her room while she was asleep and left them there.” He stops, and I can feel the pain in his voice.
“Not only that, but the note—it indicted he had been watching us together.” He pauses, grimacing.
“Closely, too. Because he knew I was taking care of her while she was sick.”
I know what he’s saying without actually saying it. Tabor was watching us—while we were in my room.
“I went to see him; I was so fucking pissed and ready to end it right then. But he—” He grows silent, flinching, and I know the pain I’m feeling …
he’s feeling it too. “He started saying he had pictures of Haven. Ones that he could release to the world and ruin her life if we told you about it.” I know he’s talking to my dad now.
“I wanted to kill him. I wanted to strangle him with my own two hands, but when he said pictures, I just … I didn’t know what to do. ”
My dad stands up quickly, veins bulging in his neck and fists down at his sides.
“Does he?” he growls, shaking. “Does he have fucking pictures of my daughter?”
“Not anymore,” Dallas utters, looking down. “But yeah … he did.” His head hangs. “I was hoping he was bluffing. Was hoping he wouldn’t be that fucking low to take pictures of someone while she was asleep. But he was.”
I can’t look at my parents right now, so I keep my eyes on Dallas. My mom cries quietly, and my dad paces for a moment before he stops again.
“Did you delete them?” he asks Dallas.
“No, a friend of Haven’s did,” he utters.
“I didn’t look at them or anything, and she has sworn not to tell a soul, and I believe her that she won’t.
The only thing I know, because she told me, was that Haven was asleep, which means she didn’t give him permission to take them.
” He turns his head toward mine, his eyes misty.
“I’m so sorry, Short. I’m so fucking sorry that someone you trusted did that to you. ”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” my dad roars, and finally I dare to look his way.
He’s broken. He’s angry, but he’s sad and tortured. My whole life, he’s protected me, but he couldn’t protect me against this because I put myself in the position to be hurt. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have, and that’s on me, not him.
“There’s more,” Dallas whispers. “This morning, I found Haven’s Jeep with a brick through the windshield and something spray painted on the side of it.”
“What did it say,” my dad snarls through gritted teeth. “What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Write?”
“Slut,” I whisper, looking down at my hands. “He wrote slut in red spray paint.”
“Motherfucker,” my dad roars before he starts toward the front door.
Dallas is up and out of the chair within a second, chasing behind him.
“Coach, stop!” he hollers, and I don’t even have the energy to chase after my dad because I’m falling apart.
My mom rushes to me, pushing my chair out and kneeling to wrap her arms around me tightly.
“I’m so sorry, baby girl,” she cries. “I am so, so sorry.”
“You can’t go and beat the shit out of him—you’re his coach!” Dallas is yelling now. “I’ll go find him. Not you.”
Now I’m pushing my mom out of the way and running toward them.
“No!” I wail, running between Dallas and my dad. “You aren’t going to go to him. That’s what he probably wants.” My chest is heaving now. “He’s not right in the head, Dallas. And if you go there, I don’t know what he’ll do.”
His eyes are wild now, reminding me of the night years ago when he looked like he might kill someone. I don’t recognize this side of Dallas, but I refuse to let someone like Tabor get him into a mess.
“I kept it together because I didn’t know if he had those pictures or not, and I was scared he’d use them. He doesn’t have them now. He can’t hurt you,” Dallas utters bitterly. “I can’t let him get away with what he did, Haven. I’d never forgive myself for that.”
As he begins to stalk toward the door, I jump in front, pushing him back.
“I’ll tell the police what happened,” I yell out, crying harder. “They can deal with him.” I put my hands on his face, cupping his cheeks. “But please … you and my dad … please, just don’t go trying to find him.” I look over at my dad. “I’m begging you. I’m scared of him. Let the police handle it.”
Dallas is rigid, and his eyes are dark and angry. I look from him to my dad before I finally drop my hands from his face and step in front of my father.
“I can’t let you ruin your career for a mistake I made,” I whisper. “And I can’t risk Dallas getting hurt trying to protect me.”
His eyes float along my face. He’s in pain, and I hate that.
“If the police get involved, people are going to find out the truth,” he says, his voice and expression softening.
“I know,” I choke out. “And if that helps keep him from tormenting someone else one day, then I can live with that for a while.” I nod, looking past him at the clock. “You have a game tonight. Let’s go to the police station and get it over with.”
I know there’s nothing my dad would love more than to beat the hell out of Tabor. No one is more protective of his family than he is. Well, and Dallas. But looking at me, he knows that isn’t what I want. So finally, he sighs, nodding slowly.
“I’m so sorry this happened, sweetie,” he croaks, his own lip quivering and his eyes filling with tears. “I’m so, so fucking sorry.”
When he hugs me tightly, my heart breaks. And I can’t wrap my brain around how today can be so great and so terrible at the same time. But that’s exactly how it is. And I have a feeling that soon, it may get a little worse.