Play Hard (Make the Play #2) (14 page)

After Cal leaves, I sink down onto the porch swing. Hugging myself, I stare out at the quiet property and the vast expanse of land surrounding it. The dark sky is sprinkled with shimmering stars, a crescent moon hovering high above them. It’s like something out of a painting. But instead of reveling in its beauty, I only feel sadness. My heart is hollow and empty, as if Cal has taken what filled it when he sped out of here.

The road at the end of the driveway is vacant, but I half-expect to see Cal driving down it. Driving back to me.

I know it’s stupid. This connection I have with Cal doesn’t make any sense. I’ve only known him a short time. I shouldn’t be this wrapped up in him. It shouldn’t hurt this much that he took off tonight.

But it does.

Mostly because he made me believe that my past didn’t matter. He made so many empty promises about only caring about who I was now. But that was a lie. He does care about my past. He made that painfully clear when he tore out of here after I finished telling him my secret. For a moment it seemed he might be able to see past it. He appeared soft and gentle, understanding.

But then he left.

The front door pops open, Aunt Molly’s head sticking out and craning in my direction. “Taylor? You okay?”

I start to nod, but then my emotions get the better of me. Lips quivering, I shake my head gently. Man, I’ve turned into a blubbering idiot.

“Oh, honey.” Aunt Molly steps outside and moves swiftly toward me. Sitting beside me, she hesitantly reaches out. Blinking back tears, I fall against her and her arms come around me, hugging me tightly. This only causes me to cry harder. I’m not even sure I cried this hard when Dusty and I broke up.
What is wrong with me?
“So he didn’t take it so well, huh?” I sniff against her shoulder, figuring that’s a good enough answer. “I’m sorry. I honestly thought he’d be more understanding.”

“Me too.” My voice is muffled against her shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay.” She rubs my back in a circular motion.

I nod, desperately wanting to believe her. She holds me for several minutes. The only sound is my own ragged sobbing and the leaves skittering in the gentle breeze. Several lights flick off inside the house. The front door opens again, and Uncle Alex peers out.

“I’m heading to bed. You two okay out here?” He asks.

Aunt Molly lifts her head. “Yeah. We’re fine.”

“You sure?” He hesitates.

“Yes,” Aunt Molly responds firmly.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” He glances over warily. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Aunt Molly parrots.

“G’night,” I mumble through my tears and stuffy nose. I feel like an idiot. They both must think I’m ridiculous, crying over a guy I hardly know. Shoving off Aunt Molly, I sit up straight and wipe frantically under my nose. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Aunt Molly smiles sympathetically. “It’s hormones. I remember when I was pregnant.” She swallows hard, a tragic look painting her face. “Even though it was only a short time, I was super hormonal, crying about everything. In fact, one night I was making twice baked potatoes, which are Alex’s favorite. Anyway, I poured in too much milk and ruined them. You would’ve thought I lost the baby with how hard I cried over those potatoes.” Once the words are out, she clamps her mouth shut, her eyes shining.

“I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head, fighting back tears. “Poor choice of words.”

After Aunt Molly lost the baby, she learned that she probably could never carry a baby to full term. We’ve never really discussed it, and I don’t know all the details, but seeing the pain on her face now claws at the recesses of my heart. I’m not good at comforting people, but I’m determined to try. Reaching out, I place my hand over hers.

“I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”

“Ruining the potatoes?” She jokes.

I let out a tiny chuckle, then grow serious. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She nods.

“I bet you think I’m pretty stupid crying over a boy when you’ve endured something so much worse than a break up.”

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid, Taylor. I never have.” She pauses, biting her lip. “I know you think the only reason we took you in is because of the baby, but that’s not true. Your uncle and I care about you. We would’ve let you stay here no matter what. Baby or no baby, we want to help you.”

“Why?”

“You’re family,” she says simply. “And we love you.”

A lump forms in my throat. “I love you” isn’t a phrase I hear often, and it affects me in a way I’m not expecting. I turn my head and swallow hard.

“Taylor, I know this is all hard for you. But I think what you’re doing is so brave, and so selfless. And one day your baby is going to thank you for it,” Aunt Molly says. “But since he or she can’t do that yet, I will say thank you. You’re giving your uncle and I, and your baby, an incredible gift.”

It’s all too much. I can’t take anymore mushy talk tonight. Standing, I wave away her words. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t need any thank yous or anything. I’m doing what I have to do.”

Aunt Molly stands too, her face sober. “Of course. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”

Now I feel like a jerk. “You didn’t. I think I’m just emotionally exhausted at this point.”

“Me too.” She pauses, bringing her hands in close to her chest. “Wanna go inside?”

I inhale the air that is cooling down. It smells like damp earth and fresh air. “You go ahead. I need a minute,” I say.

“Okay.” She smiles. “Good night,” she says before slipping inside.

Once she’s gone, I stand at the railing of the porch and take a few deep breaths. A gust of wind kicks up, and my hair goes flying. Reaching up, I tuck it behind my ear. When I do, my finger catches on my earring and it drops from my ear into the dirt below. Squinting, I find it glinting in the moonlight, lying next to the rose bushes that line the porch. As the breeze continues, I get a whiff of their sweet scent. Shivering, I move away from the railing and toward the porch steps.

As I barrel down them, they creak and moan. It’s sort of creepy in the dark all alone, and a chill skitters down my spine. I hurry toward where I saw the earring and bend down to retrieve it. As my fingers close around it, I see something move out of the corner of my eye.

The hair on my neck prickles. A sound like a twig breaking startles me. Clutching the earring, I stand back up and glance around the property. When I don’t see anything, I chastise myself. It’s probably just an animal.

I wonder what kinds of animals live out here in this rural area. Back home I’ve only seen dogs and cats, but I’m sure there are wild animals out here. The thought makes my skin crawl. I’ve never been around wild animals. Not only do we live in the city, but we’ve never even gone camping. My mom prefers hotels, and I’ve always been grateful for that. Vacationing by sleeping in a tent outside has never appealed to me. But it also means I’m thoroughly unprepared for what to do in situations like this. Luckily, I’m closer to the house than the animal is, though, and hiding
is
something I know how to do.

Before turning around to head inside, I scan the field again. Still nothing. I’ve heard people say that animals are more afraid of you than you are of them. I’ve never wanted to test that theory before, but perhaps it’s true.

Tired, I spin around, grabbing the railing and preparing to walk back up to the house.

“Taylor,” a familiar male voice stops me mid-step. My shoulders tighten, and my back goes rigid. Heart pounding, I don’t dare turn around. Keeping my gaze trained on the front door, I try to imagine reaching it. Tentatively, I place my foot on the bottom step. Perhaps if I move swiftly enough I can make it inside before he reaches me. “I’ve come all this way. You think I’m going to let you walk away from me? C’mon, you know me better than that, baby.”

It’s the voice that used to make my heart flutter. Used to make me weak in the knees. Now it turns my stomach. Knowing he’s right, I pivot on my heels. Facing him, I hold my head high, not wanting him to see the fear in my eyes. “What do you want, Dusty?”

He swaggers in my direction, and my palms fill with moisture. “We haven’t seen each other in months, and this is how you greet me.” A sick smile spreads across his face. “I think you can do better than that.”

The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats. I worry that I’m dangerously close to having a heart attack by the time he’s inches from me. When I back up, his arms shoot out, his hands circling my wrists. A sharp squeal escapes from my lips, and he shakes me. “Quiet,” he demands.

His demand is meant to frighten me, but instead it gives me courage. “Scared my aunt and uncle might hear, Dusty? Keep touching me and I’ll scream as loud as I can. Then they’ll for sure hear me.”

I expect him to back off, but his eyes darken. “Yeah, Tay, I’m scared. I’m scared of your preacher uncle and his barren wife.” My face pales. Apparently he’s done his homework. “What do you think will happen if he comes out here? Think he’ll try to convert me? Maybe say a prayer or two?” He tugs me closer to him. “Meanwhile, I’m the one closest to the baby they want.” His gaze lowers to my stomach. I wriggle out of his grasp, feeling exposed. “One strategic punch and that thing is history.”

Bile rises in my throat. I always knew Dusty was an ass, but this is going too far. “You’d hurt your own baby?” I’m appalled.

“Oh, so now it’s mine, huh? I thought it was their baby now.” He points at the house.

My head spins. “Who told you all this?”

“You know what your problem is, Tay? You’ve always underestimated me,” Dusty growls. “You’ve been living here all happy and carefree. You’ve even got some dumbass boyfriend. And you had no idea that all the while I’ve been watching.”

I freeze, a shudder rippling down my spine. “Watching? How?”

“Oh, come on. I knew your aunt and uncle lived in Prairie Creek. You told me so yourself. And where else would your parents send you?”

He’s known this whole time? I feel like I’m going to be sick. My mouth fills with moisture, and I bend over.

Dusty forcefully draws me into his chest. “Hey, I know that you lost your little jock you were fooling around with, but don’t worry, I’ll take you back.” His arms encase me. It doesn’t feel like a hug. It feels like a prison.

The thought sickens me, and the fact that he says it like he’d be doing me a favor is laughable. But not surprising. His ego has always been too big for his own good. Anger rises in me, and I shove him back as hard as I can. He teeters on the balls of his feet, losing his balance momentarily. But it’s enough to cut me loose, and I take off running toward the house. But I’m not fast enough. He lunges at me, his fingers closing around my wrist. From the corner of my eye, I see yellow lights. I hear a car on the gravel, and hope sparks.

“Ah, look who’s back. It’s your jock.” Dusty sounds too happy to see Cal again, and my stomach sours.

A few minutes ago I wanted nothing more than for Cal to come back, but now I wish he’d stayed away. I don’t want him involved in this. I don’t want anyone involved in this. It’s my problem. I’m the one who brought Dusty into my life. I’m the one who started this. My gaze flickers to the house, all the windows dark, and I silently pray that my aunt and uncle don’t wake up. I should want them to. I should want to be rescued, but I don’t. I want to face this on my own. My mind travels back to my conversation with Aunt Molly tonight. I recall her candor, her emotion about the baby. Dusty wouldn’t think twice about hurting the baby, and I can’t do that to Aunt Molly. She wants this baby more than I can even understand, and I can’t let him take that away from her.

Regardless of what I have to do, I will keep this baby safe.

He’s touching her.

That’s the first thing I notice, and it makes my blood boil. Slamming on my brakes, my tires skid in the rocks and gravel. A plume of dirt swirls. With shaking fingers I undo my seatbelt and tear out of the car.

“Get your hands off of her!” I shout, stomping up the driveway.

“Check out this clown,” Dusty says in Taylor’s direction, as if he thinks I’m a joke. Taylor stands by his side, unmoving, as if paralyzed. It’s like she’s back under his control, and it concerns me.

“I mean it. Let her go!” I repeat.

“I don’t take orders from you,” he snarls, yanking Taylor closer to him. Fear fills her face.

“It’s okay, Taylor. I’m here,” I whisper encouragement toward her, needing her to believe in me. But it’s like she doesn’t register the words. Her gaze remains unfocused, fuzzy, as if she’s not even inside. As if she’s a million miles away. My insides knot.

Dusty snorts. “Is this guy for real?”

“C’mon, Dusty.” Taylor turns to him, her eyes pleading with his. Then she does the unthinkable. She touches his arm gently. The way you’d touch a boyfriend. The way she’s touched me. “Let’s just get outta here. Don’t worry about him.”

What the hell is she doing?

“Hear that, lover boy,” Dusty says to me. “Guess she’s ready to go back to a real man.”

Does she want him back?
My chest tightens. No, that can’t be. I stare at her, trying to catch her eye. When I finally do, I see the resolve deep inside, and I know what she’s doing. She’s sacrificing herself.

He must have threatened her. Her free arm lowers, her hand splaying over her stomach. It’s like someone punched me in the gut.

He didn’t threaten her. He threatened the baby.

Bastard.

Regardless, she’s not playing the martyr today. Not on my watch.

Using the element of surprise, I leap toward Dusty while his attention is focused on Taylor. Before he can react, I shove him backwards. His fingers open, releasing Taylor. She wobbles a little, but stays upright.

“Taylor, get outta here!” I demand, but she doesn’t move. Standing between her and Dusty, I hold my arm out to shield her from him. “Taylor,” I hiss. “I mean it. Go!”

Dusty lets out an amused chuckle. “Apparently she doesn’t take orders from you either.”

“She doesn’t take orders from anyone!” I snap back. “And I’m not ordering her,” I say for her benefit. “I’m asking her. Please, Taylor.”

“I won’t leave you,” she whispers.

My head snaps back, pain shooting through my face. Taylor screams. Stars fill my vision. I blink furiously and fight to regain my composure when I’m struck again.
Son of a bitch.
Staggering backward, I wipe my hand down my face. Dark, sticky blood coats my palms.
Ah, hell no.
Another hit.

“I told you that night in town that if you were lying to me, you’d pay,” Dusty snarls. “I guess today is that day.”

“Dusty, stop!” Taylor yells. “Please, don’t.”

I hate that she’s pleading with this asshole for me. Forcing myself to get it together, I wipe my eyes and open them wide. To my horror, Taylor rushes him.
What is she doing?
He shoves her and she falls limply to the ground.

Anger pulsates through me, and I throw my body forward. Using all my strength, I pummel him until his body hits the ground.

“You’re gonna regret touching her!” I say, straddling him and slamming my fist into his face. Blood spurts. I’m about to hit him again, when a voice stops me.

“That’s enough!” Alex stands over us, pointing a gun at Dusty.

Taylor scrambles off the ground appearing as shocked as I am. Who knew the pastor was packing?

“Get up, Cal,” he commands, and I hoist myself off of Dusty. “You,” he says to Dusty. “You stay put.”

“You won’t shoot me,” Dusty says, but he doesn’t sound entirely sure.

“Try me,” Alex says in a dark tone.

Personally, I don’t think I’d chance it. Dusty stays put so he must be thinking the same thing.

“Cal, Taylor, get inside and get cleaned up,” he says to us. Sirens sound in the distance. “As soon as the police arrive, we’ll get you two to the hospital.” His gun stays trained on Dusty who groans from where he lay on the ground.

I walk over to Taylor and gather her in my arms. “You okay?”

Her gaze falls on my face, her eyes widening. “What about you? You’re the one bleeding.” Lifting her hand, she touches my eye. It hurts, and I wince. She pulls her hand back, blood coating her fingertips.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m more worried about you. Are you all right?”

“I’m not sure.” Her clean hand rubs over her stomach. “I fell on my stomach, I think.”

Panic sweeps over me, but I’m determined to stay strong for her. Drawing her close, I hold her tightly. “It’s going to be okay.”
I pray that I’m not lying.