Chapter 39
Hayes
“Miller, do you copy?”
Another night on shift, and I’m tired.
I’m pulled off on the side of the road, struggling to keep my eyes open until the end of my shift.
Glancing at the clock, I notice that it’s midnight. Nothing good happens when I get a call from dispatch at midnight.
“Go ahead, dispatch.”
“There’s a disturbance at the corner of Clark and West. Can you check it out?”
“10/4. Heading there now.”
Putting the radio back on my dash, I turn and head toward the direction of the disturbance, which in this town could mean anything from an escaped cow to Silas and the others in his gossip group spying on people. You really never know.
When I get to West Street, cars line the street, and I can hear music coming from a house two blocks down.
I reach the house it’s coming from and sigh in disappointment. Teenagers spill out of the house, red solo cups in their hands, and if I were to guess, I’d say it’s not water in those cups.
I keep my lights off, trying not to raise suspicion as I put the car in park.
Reaching for my radio on the dash, I try to call for backup, but it’s too late. A couple of teenagers spy my car, and too soon, they are dashing like ants from an ant hill.
“Dang it,” I say, throwing my car radio back on the dash and rushing out of my car.
The kids are dispersing at breakneck speed, too fast for me to gain control of the situation, but to the side of the house, I see a couple of bodies rolling out of the windows. That escape route will at least slow a couple of them down until I can find who is responsible for this madness.
The whole high school has to be at this party.
Kicking past cups spilled on the ground, I focus on reaching the window before any more escape. I’ve just reached the corner of the house when I see familiar shaggy dark hair poking out of the window. I redirect my steps off the sidewalk behind a bush. Tanner tumbles out of the first-story window, hitting the ground and lying there for a second, stunned. Taking advantage of the time it takes him to gain his bearings, I step out, hovering over him.
“Going somewhere?” I ask.
The only response I get is a groan.
Crouching down, I grab his arm, and the smell of beer clogs my nose. Disappointment hits me straight in the gut.
“Dang it, Tanner. What are you doing?”
He glares up at me, still lying on the ground. “What’s it to you?”
I shake my head. “You don’t want to talk? That’s fine. Get up. You’re going to jail.”
I’m not making the mistakes I made with Langston. Tanner has to suffer the consequences for his actions, even if he’s kicked off my team.
“Coach, please, man. I’ll walk home.”
“Not this time, Tanner. Now stand up.”
Anger vibrates his body, but that’s okay. I’m angry, too. I’ve invested so much time into this kid, only for him to still not see that someone cares about him.
Doesn’t that sound familiar?
My conscience prickles as I help Tanner stand to his feet, taking the handcuffs off my belt and slipping them onto his wrist.
Silas has gotten in my head.
By the time I’m walking Tanner to my car, the other kids have dispersed. I hesitate to open the door and put Tanner in the back. Turning him so his back is against my car, I step back and cross my arms over my chest.
“This is your one chance to tell me the truth, and you won’t be leaving here without a breathalyzer, either. So you better start talking fast. Why are you here?”
The glare from earlier is gone, and in its place is a kid who’s scared out of his mind. I drop my arms and reach up, tugging at my hair.
What a mess.
“I was here to help a friend,” Tanner says, his voice shaking.
I hold my breath so I don’t snort. “And that’s why you smell like a whole keg of beer? Sorry, that story is hard to believe when I found you stumbling out of a window and can nearly get drunk from just the smell of you.”
“I’m serious, Coach. Give me the breathalyzer. I’ll do it right now.”
Truth shines on his face, but I’m still wary. If there’s one thing I learned from Langston, it’s that people with problems are good liars.
Glancing at the sky, I search for an answer.
Bringing my gaze back to Tanners, I narrow my eyes. “Don’t even think about running. I’m grabbing the breathalyzer, and I’ll be right back.”
He nods, and I watch him the entire time I round my car and duck inside, half convincing myself that I will have to chase him. But when it’s in my hand, and I’m shutting my door again, Tanner is still standing there, waiting for me to come back.
That’s one point in his favor.
Standing in front of him again, I hold the machine up. “When this light turns green, you need to blow on it for five seconds, and then the rating will come up here. Got it?”
“It’s not like it’s rocket science.”
I pull my hand back, making eye contact with him. “I need you to recognize that you are on a fine line here. If this comes back with even an ounce of alcohol in your system, you are going to jail. I will not protect you from the consequences of your actions. Do you understand that?”
Tanner swallows. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now blow on this, and let’s see where we stand.”
The next five seconds are some of the longest of my life. You would think that it’s my life on the line here. When the numbers come back as zero, I let out a sigh that doesn’t even begin to cover the relief I’m feeling.
“Turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“So I can uncuff you.”
“Seriously?” Tanner asks. “You believe me? You’ll let me go?”
Unlocking the cuffs, I say, “I believe you. Your numbers are zero. That still doesn’t explain why you smell like a brewery, though, and no, I’m not technically letting you go. I’m going to drive you home.”
“No.” I’m not ready for the fear in Tanner’s voice when he spins around, wrists now free of handcuffs and the color of his face as white as a ghost.
“Okay, Tanner. I think it’s time we talk. You have to explain to me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t.”
“I can’t do that, Coach.”
“Why not?”
He rubs the back of his neck, “I—I just can’t, but if you have to take me home, can you at least take me to my dad’s?”
I try not to let my surprise show. “Is he around here?”
“Yeah.”
“And is he a safe adult for you to be around?”
“Yes, sir,” Tanner says, not looking at me. “Probably one of the safest.”
I consider what to do here, but there’s no choice. If Tanner feels safe at his dad’s, and it will be a step towards him trusting me, then that’s where I’ll take him.
“Get in. You’ll have to give me directions.”
______________________
“So—I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging around that Bella girl after the games. Did you apologize to her?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she nice?”
“Yeah.”
I’ve been trying to have a conversation with Tanner since I decided to take him to his dad’s house. I thought if I could start with small talk, I could lead it to the big conversation we need to have, but for every question I ask him, he offers me a stilted answer.
I’m not good at this. I wish MJ were here. Maybe she could get him to open up.
My fingers thrum against the steering wheel, thinking about the mess I’ll have to deal with once I’m back. After deciding to drive Tanner to his dad’s house, I called the station and requested that some other officers patrol the streets to make sure none of the kids from the party were drinking and driving.
A mountain of paperwork awaits me when I get back.
“She’s nice.” Tanner’s voice pulls my gaze to him. The streetlights illuminate the side of his face. He sits tall, looking out the front window and fingers tugging at his seat belt.
“Bella?” I ask. The look he gives me conveys how dumb he thinks I am for that question. “Sorry. Yes. Bella. Nicer than you thought she would be?”
“Yeah. Less annoying, too. I didn’t really give her a chance.”
I chuckle. “We usually don’t.”
His brow frumples. “What do you mean?”
Shrugging, I say, “We are so quick to look at the surface level that we forget to look deeper.”
“Are you speaking from experience?”
I think of Theo.
I really dislike that guy, but have I let my annoyance over his fascination with MJ prevent me from looking deeper?
I can’t blame the guy for liking the girl I’m obsessed with. That would make me a hypocrite.
“Absolutely.”
Tanner laughs, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen the kid genuinely smile. My lips tug up.
“Bella talks about Jesus, and I—I’ve never really heard about him the way she talks about him.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. Sweat beads in my hairline. I wanted Tanner to talk to me, but I wasn’t expecting this.
He turns, looking out the window, and from his reflection, I can tell that the smile on his lips has vanished. “I don’t know. Love has always been conditional for me. My mom loves me—but only if I meet the image she wants. Eric loves me—but only if I get a scholarship. And my dad—well, that’s a whole other story. Everyone loves me, but only if I give them the version they want to love. And I think—I think I’ve started to love myself the same way. But Bella—she talks about God like he’ll love me no matter how many times I screw up. I really want that to be true, Coach.”
My heart pumps hard in my chest.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here.
I’ve convinced myself I wasn’t worthy of Godly love for years.
Was it actually that I couldn’t love this version of me?
I don’t have the answer to those questions, so I take the easy way out and hate myself for it.
“God loves everyone, Tanner.”
Except people who are to blame for their best friend’s death.
It’s a platitude I can’t bring myself to believe, but if it helps Tanner, I’ll lie and say I do.
“Everyone?” Tanner huffs. “Even that creep, Morgan?”
I give him a side-eye. “Yeah, even him.”
Tanner nods, not looking completely convinced.
“It’s the last street on the left up here,” he says, thankfully ending the conversation.
Flicking on my blinker, I make the turn.
The street we are on is different from what I expected. Based upon interactions with Josephine and Eric, I expected the neighborhood to be ostentatious, but this neighborhood is anything but.
The houses are cozy, with front yards for kids to play in and white picket fences surrounding the backyards. I can imagine couples sitting on the front porches, rocking in their chairs with coffee in hand.
I’ve wanted to ask Tanner about his dad the entire way here, but every time I think of a way to ask where he’s been, it sounds so stupid in my mind that my tongue gets stuck to the roof of my mouth.
How do you ask a kid why his dad isn’t around without sounding like a total jerk?
Now we are here, and it’s too late to ask.
But I can’t leave him alone without making sure he’s telling me the truth about being safe, so when he opens the door, I open mine and step out with him.
“What are you doing?” he asks, giving me a strange look.
“I want to meet your dad.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
But the front door is already opening, and as a man steps out onto the porch, I realize that I should have asked more questions because standing on the steps is none other than the fire chief himself.
“Hey, Dad.”