Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hunter
I throw my bag on the floor beneath my locker and look up.
A picture of Rochelle, along with every single fucking memento of our damn relationship stares back at me.
A relationship now ruined forever because she won’t believe a damn thing I said more than a week ago when I left her at her house.
When I had stepped out on the front porch, I called Melissa at the salon, and waited until she got there before taking off.
I couldn’t fight that battle any longer. I was destined to lose, no matter what I said.
Grabbing her picture from my locker, I bitterly shove it in my bag. I try to tell myself that I will be alright, that I can get through this, but the truth is, I’m full of shit. Looking up, I grab every damn thing off the shelf that reminds me of her and throw it to the ground.
I sense the stares of my other teammates, but they don't stop me from stomping on one thing, after another, until every last piece of our love is crushed under my foot. It doesn’t bring me the satisfaction I thought it would, and so I grab the metal door of my locker, swing it open, and kick it violently.
Grabbing my bag, I throw it at my locker.
It crashes to the floor and my heart falls with it.
“Hunter,” coach yells behind me, but I’m not done. I pick up my glove next and throw it at a nearby mirror. It smashes the glass which quickly shatters to the floor.
Lies?
How can she think for one second that any damn thing I told her was a fucking lie!
I loved her more than life itself. Now that she’s gone, I’ll never get the chance to feel the way she made me feel again.
Alive. Immortal. Like everything was mine for the taking as long as she stood by my side.
I kick at the bag at my feet, before punching at the damn metal door again until my knuckles bleed.
“Hunter,” a second voice yells.
I spin around, determined to put whoever it is on their ass.
Right now, I just need one fucking reason to finish unleashing the hell her absence has damned me with.
Whoever won’t stop fucking pestering me is about to be on the other side of my wrath.
Heaven help him, because losing my Angel has made me embrace the demons of hell.
I’m not surprised to see my coach, but the two gentlemen standing behind him make me take a step back in disbelief.
Edward, I recognize. But hell, he hasn’t come to a game since I was in Little League.
And with Victoria in the hospital, I’m surprised he made the trip now.
Although, the man beside him, I’ve never seen a day in my life.
It strikes me as odd because Edward is always surrounded by the same people.
Edward Cunningham is all about trust. And Edward doesn’t just trust anyone.
The coach yells for the rest of the players to take the field.
Walking up to me, he keeps his voice low and says, “Normally, I’d bench your ass after that little stunt, kid.
You make one more wrong move, and I won’t hesitate to make good on that threat, even if your whole damn future does ride on this game tonight. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir!” I hiss back through gritted teeth, still attempting to catch my breath from the anger I just unleashed on the locker room.
“Get your damn head right,” coach says. “You’ve got ten minutes. Whatever you do with them, make sure your head is in the game when you take the field.”
He turns and leaves me alone with Edward and the man I have never met before.
Walking over to my locker, I pick up a few of the broken items on the floor and let out a deep breath. Footsteps sound behind me. Edward watches with disappointment as I bend down and try to clean up the mess I’ve just made.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” he asks, disapprovingly. “Tell me, Hunter, what’s so important you’re willing to risk tonight’s game, and your future on something that could probably easily be fixed?”
I roll my eyes, turn back to my locker, and put a few of the smashed items back up on the shelf.
“Is there a reason for your unannounced visit, Edward?” I snap.
“Or is it just to point out, once again, all my faults and how I don’t live up to your fucking standards?
” I attempt to put back together a trinket from Rochelle and my first date, but fail as it crumbles in my hands.
Shaking my head, I set it delicately on the shelf and pick up another crushed item.
“Because if so, you know where the damn door is. We’ve been over this before, and frankly I am getting really fucking tired of repeating myself. ”
“I’d like you to meet someone,” Edward says, making me stop what I’m doing and pay attention. He gestures to the man at his side. I look over him harshly, judging him when I have no right to.
“This is Jackson,” Edward explains. “Jackson Knight. He’s the only person I trust more than myself in this whole rotten world.”
Studying the man, I wonder, if Edward trusts him so much, then why the hell haven’t I met him before?
After some time, when I still haven’t spoken, Edward continues, answering that very question.
“You’ve never met him because, for the last twenty years, he has been paid to watch over something of mine.
Someone who happens to be very important to me.
Very important to you too, I might add.”
My eyes leave the man at Edward’s side and lock on the man who raised me.
“That’s right,” he says, confirming what I hoped he was suggesting.
“Rochelle may have not been a part of the original deal with Margaret, but I’d be damned if I was going to leave anything of mine behind and not make completely sure she was safe, cared for, loved the way Sylvia and I wanted and would have cared and loved her, if only she had come home with Victoria.
Jackson stepped in many times over the years and put Margaret in her place.
Even when they moved West, he kept a close watch, but maintained his distance, too. Scared to spook Margaret again.”
“Does Rochelle know?” I stammer. I’m not exactly sure what to make of the information Edward is feeding me, but I need to make sure, even if she doesn’t want to speak to me ever again, that she is aware of the fact that even if her father had to leave her, he made sure to watch over her from afar the best way he knew how.
“No, not yet,” Edward sighs. “With what happened with Margaret…” He trails off and I shake my head, knowing all too well why he’s not approached the topic with Rochelle.
“With Victoria still in the ICU, I didn’t want to spring this on her.
You are the only one who knows. You and Sylvia.
I was hopeful that maybe you would be there when I tell her. ”
A spiteful chuckle leaves my lips. Both men in front of me take a step back.
“Good luck with that, Old Man. Rochelle wouldn’t talk to me if I was the last man on earth.”
I swing back around and pick up my glove. Shoving my ball cap on my head, I start to walk to the exit. Before I take my leave, I turn back around and meet both men’s dumbfounded stares.
“You see, she wouldn’t believe me. Not even from the start.
I love that girl more than I love myself.
” Tears prick the back of my eyes. I beat my glove against my chest and take a step backward.
“But all she sees is lies. The lies the world has told her. The lies you all have told her. You want to know the fucked-up truth about all of this, I didn’t lie to her. Not once.”
Turning, I stalk out of the locker room and make my way to the dugout.
I have no clue how I am supposed to play this game, or how I am supposed to pretend that I even care about a contract, most only dream of, when my head is in the clouds, wrapped around an Angel I might never get the chance to hold in my arms again.
My only chance at heaven on earth won’t even speak to me. Going through life without her is going to be a living hell.