Chapter 21
Hayes
I’m an idiot.
Whenever MJ is around, I lose my head.
As soon as our kiss ended, she looked at me like it was the worst thing we could have ever done. Then she ran outside and jumped in my truck. She refused to say anything to me while I drove her back to her car.
Now it’s thirty minutes later, and I can still feel MJ’s lips pressed against mine, soft and pillowy. Her gasp rings in my ears from when I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips.
Dropping my head to my steering wheel, I pray that it will knock some sense into me because the black eye she gave me clearly didn’t.
When it doesn’t work, I groan and shove open my door. I have a couple of hours until I have to be at work, and I need to get some sleep before then. But it’s going to be impossible if I can’t get MJ out of my head.
Things between us are complicated. I can’t remember a time when they haven’t been complicated, but that kiss was a wake-up call to what I’ve been missing.
I let her walk away once, but after a kiss like that, I don’t know if I can let her walk away again.
The front door of my house squeaks when I open it, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I see someone sitting on my couch—someone who is lucky I wasn’t dressed in my uniform with a gun on my side because I might have asked questions later.
“Hi ya, Hayes,” Campbell grins as I clutch at my chest, trying not to fall over. “Kota told me he wanted some company, so I thought I would let myself in.”
Scraping my fingers through my hair, I glare at where he’s sitting, but it doesn’t faze him. The dog in question sits on the couch beside Campbell, nearly asleep. He peeks one eye open when I step closer, then shuts it again as if he can’t be bothered with his usual greeting of almost bowling me over today—at least he isn’t outside digging holes.
Thank goodness for small miracles, I guess.
“Whoever let you order a lock-picking kit should be arrested for creating chaos. Stop breaking into my house.”
Campbell shrugs, “It’s not breaking in if I’m wanted here. It’s merely letting myself in.”
Snorting, I say, “I don’t know who told you that you are wanted here, but they lied.”
“Shut up,” Campbell says, standing carefully to not wake Kota. I swear that dog is more spoiled than any kid I’ve ever seen—listens about as well as a kid, too. “You know you love me. You’re grumpy. Let me guess—something happened with MJ at practice today.”
It’s scary how eerily close he is to the truth. It makes me wonder if someone was standing outside on the sidewalk when I kissed MJ inside the house. Anyone could have seen us kissing through the front window, and in this town, something like that wouldn’t have stayed a secret.
“Are you asking because you know, or are you guessing?” I ask, stopping in the hall where I had been heading to change my clothes.
That nap is looking less and less probable.
“Well, if I didn’t already know, you just told me there,” Campbell says, a cheeky grin on his lips.
Resignation has me walking back to the living room and sitting on the loveseat. I’ve been an idiot more than once today. That kiss should have stayed between MJ and me until we could figure out what it means. Now, it will be spread around until everyone in town knows.
Campbell stays quiet while I process, but within seconds, he bursts out in laughter. He clutches his sides, laughing so hard Kota wakes up to find out what the ruckus is about. I sit, clenching my teeth and waiting for him to calm down so he can explain.
A full minute later, when he finally has himself under control, he wipes under his eyes and slings himself back onto the couch.
“Care to explain what you find so funny?” I ask through my teeth, cocking an eyebrow.
He shrugs. “You still love her, and all it took was a black eye and one football practice for you to lose your mind. Hayes, you are the most controlled person I know—like freakishly in control. I like messing with you because you always need things to turn out the way you plan, but you didn’t plan for this—you couldn’t plan for this. I’m just imagining what it will be like when you fully lose your grip on that control. You’re slowly starting to unravel, and it’s one of the best things I’ve ever witnessed.”
“I’m not losing control,” I grit out.
Campbell’s face sobers. “Yeah, Hayes, you are, and it’s good for you. Langston never saw the way you looked at MJ in high school. He was too lost in his own trouble, but I did. I noticed. There was only one other time that you let go of that control, and something awful and devastating happened. You’ve been holding on to it pretty tight ever since. But you need to listen to me when I say this—Langston didn’t die because you finally let yourself live a little. That’s not what happened, and I think it’s past time you realize that.”
“You wouldn’t understand.” It comes out harsher than I mean it to.
The lines on Campbell’s mouth are firm, and he huffs out a laugh of disbelief.
“Do you think that Langston‘s death didn’t shatter me? He was my best friend too. I’ve just been better about putting the pieces back together. Sooner or later, Hayes, God is going to force you to realize that you are not the one in control. He is. So how about you loosen that grip you have and let him in?”
Swallowing, I shake my head. He may know the grief of losing Langston, but he doesn’t know the guilt.
But before I can say anything, Campbell interrupts. “Don’t let her slip away this time. You both deserve better than that.”
The idea of going back to a life without MJ in it hits me in the gut.
I didn’t realize I was only half living these past six years without her, but that’s exactly what I was doing. I’ve only let myself experience a diluted version of life because, without her, all the colors were dulled. I thought it was because of the guilt I had over Langston’s death, and I won’t lie and say that’s not at least some of it, but the other part is because MJ was missing.
Campbell must realize that his point landed because he smiles again and stands up, clapping me on the shoulder. “And that’s all for our therapy session today. Glad I could be of service.”
He walks to the door, and it’s only when he has it open that he says, “Thanks for the food, by the way. Those leftovers were delicious.”
Then he’s running out before I can get to him.
______________________
This has been the longest shift of my life. Even longer than the day MJ came back to town.
Nothing is happening. I should be grateful for that. I’m running on little to no sleep, and the quiet nights are usually the ones I live for.
Tonight, I was hoping for some action, even if it meant chasing a cow back into its pasture. At least my mind would be occupied with something other than my conversation with Campbell and the kiss I shared with MJ.
Captain sent me out to patrol the roads an hour ago because I was driving him crazy at my desk. Now it’s almost ten o’clock, and my shift won’t be over for another eight hours.
The silence is too loud, so I flip on the radio. Two songs in, I’m flipping it back off because it’s not helping either.
With thirty minutes until my break, I whip my car around and drive to where I’ve always felt closest to my best friend.
The school is dark when I pull into the parking lot except for the street lamps in the parking lot. Driving around back, I pull into a spot that faces the football field and then shut the engine off.
It’s a full moon, and the stars are bright tonight, guiding a path for me toward the open field.
When I reach the fifty-yard line, I lie flat and stare at the sky.
“We have to talk, L.”
The crickets answer me.
“I never understood—I never got how you could be so lost when you had the world at your feet. But—”
I stop, scrubbing my hand over the scruff on my jaw. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to him—to tell him everything after all that’s happened—but shame burns deep. I was blind to so many things six years ago. I thought I was invincible, but Langston’s death taught me otherwise. I wasn’t above the tragedy that found me.
“Why didn’t you just listen to us, Langston? MJ and I tried so hard to save you. And in the process of saving you, we lost too—not just you—but ourselves. I loved her, you know. I loved her so much, but after your death, I knew I couldn’t keep her. Nothing would ever be the same between us. But now she’s back, and I don’t know what to do here.”
There have been so many times in the past six years when I wished that I could have one more conversation with him—one more chance to say goodbye—but none more so than now. MJ and I hid our relationship from him, claiming we would tell him when the time was right, but the time never came. There’s nothing I’ll regret more than not telling him how much I loved his sister. Sometimes, I wonder if it would have changed things if I had told him, but I know it probably wouldn’t have. Langston was too lost in his demons to see the world around him.
The world goes quiet as I whisper the secret I’ve held for six years. “I still love her, L. But she deserves a man who doesn’t haunt her with memories. And now this kid reminds me so much of you. And it’s like we are living these horrors all over again. If we fail this kid—well, I don’t even want to think about failing this kid.”
I don’t have much time left until I need to return to my cruiser, but an overwhelming weight keeps me here. Pieces of the turf poke into my skin, and I let that feeling ground me, keeping me here and not in the past.
“I’m sorry, Langston. I wish those words could bring you back, but I know they can’t. I just hope you can forgive me for what I’m about to do because I lost your sister once, and I don’t think I can live through losing her again.”
The wind picking up is my only answer, and I’d like to think that it’s Langston’s way of telling me that he approves—or maybe it’s my conscience looking for a way to assuage the guilt that never truly goes away.
With shaky hands, I push off the ground to sit on my knees, and then I try something I haven’t done in six years— “Hi, God. It’s me.”
The words get stuck in my throat, a feeling of inadequacy creeping up and squeezing my lungs. Tears sting my eyes, and I brush the back of my hand against them to keep them from falling, thankful that it’s just me out here.
Campbell said I need to let go of my control, but how am I supposed to do that when the moment I do, I have to face my demons?
So, instead of facing the disappointment of what I already know, I do what I do best—avoid it. Shoving off the ground, I walk away, unable to continue a prayer when I’m unworthy of speaking to God in the first place.