Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (25 page)

“No, I need to beat the shit out of someone.”

“I don’t have any candidates. Check back tomorrow.” I smile at him, but he doesn’t return it. He’s focused, and when he pulls in his driveway, he turns to face me.

“Promise me you won’t finalize transferring schools. Give me a few days.”

“Caden you can’t change things.”

“No, but I can get you the truth.”

“The truth sucks. I’d rather live in denial.”

“Promise me, Saylor.”

“I promise.” I can give him a few days. It won’t change the outcome, but I can tell this is important to him. “I’ll miss you.”

“No you won’t because you aren’t going anywhere.” Ah, I see he likes denial, too.

I come back to this spot when I feel the walls closing in. I’m shocked I have a voice anymore but . . . it helps. When the ache becomes too intense, and I feel my chest will burst, I get in my car, drive here, and scream. I cry. I occasionally throw shit. In private. Away from prying eyes, nosy ears, and evil eavesdroppers.

Today was tough seeing him in the yard playing with Julie. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath. I could only stare. Look at the empty spot where I sat so many times, longing to be there.

Time to head home and get ready. I made a mistake in a moment of weakness. I agreed to leave the house with Avery, and after I pinky promised, which according to her is more sacred than blood sisters, she tells me we are going to a baseball game—a Wichita State University baseball game. Where I’ll watch #44 and pretend like I’m not dying inside. Where I’ll silently cheer him to victory and watch idly as he celebrates with the ones he loves—after I remove myself so I don’t muddy that equation.

I hear sobbing. It gets louder, and I rush to its culprit. Emberlee is curled in a fetal position on her floor, and everything in me is telling me to walk away. I can’t. I don’t care what kind of person she is, I’m not her, and if I let her actions change me, I’m lost. I drop to my knees, “Hey, what happened?”

Her voice is muffled, and I can’t understand her. I rub her arm, her back, and try to soothe her. “M-m-my d-d-da-dad.” I hear her between wails.

“What about him?” Please don’t let him be dead. I don’t deal with death and dads. I’m the poster child for avoidance where that’s concerned.

“He was on some mission. He’s always on some mission. My mom called and there was an explosion. Nobody can reach him or any of his airmen, his crew that was with him.”

“I need you to breathe. I’ll drive you to your parents. You need to be with her.” My green eyes stare into her green eyes. For a moment, I forget everything bad and remember when she was this girl . . . my friend. She stands, and I text Avery and tell her something came up. I’m sure they’ll know before long, but I need to get her where she needs to go.

Emberlee’s situation was never clear to me. I know her father is a high-ranking general in the Air Force stationed at McConnell Air Force Base. I know she listens to his commands, yet resents him. She’s never opened up beyond the obvious, but for some reason during this drive she can’t stop. “I just want him to love me. I’ve been a disappointment since day one. I wasn’t born with a dick, so his family name ends with him. I wasn’t smart enough. I didn’t want to join the Air Force. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I skate through and don’t take responsibility. He’s never asked me what I want. What I’m good at. I want his acceptance. You know what’s so fucked up? All I want is a home. I want to create a home with a man I love and teach my children they can be whatever they want. I want them to have the freedom to imagine. I never want to stifle them.” She sucks in a deep breath and wipes her tears. “I want to watch them make mistakes, and instead of berating them, I’ll pick them up and help them fix it. I’ll be their backbone when they’re scared. I’ll be their advocate in this fucked up world. I’ll be everything I wish he was to me, and I’ll do it with an amazing man.”

I’m shocked. I’ve never witnessed vulnerable Emberlee. I’ve seen carefree Emberlee. I’ve seen bitchy Emberlee. I’ve seen party girl Emberlee. I’m starting to think nobody has ever seen the real Emberlee. The one she is morphing into. Her defenses are down. Her fear is heightened. It pains me to say it, but I don’t think we’re that different at the core . . . just in the way we handle things.

“I’ve lied to you for weeks. For months.” Her tears come harder, and I’m afraid to ask. “Adriane didn’t go to Colorado. She didn’t know Deacon would be at the party.”

“What?”

“I invited her. I’ve faked all the phone calls.”

I’m going to be sick. I’ve wasted so much time. I’ve hurt him. “I think I hate you. How’d you do it?”

“I think you should hate me. I overheard Deacon tell them in Colorado not to tell you the truth. He was so hurt you didn’t reach out to him. I knew their loyalty would be to him, but just in case, I worked to make you believe something that was false.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Adriane grew up the way I did. I know it doesn’t seem so awful to you considering what you endured. But she chose a different path, and I didn’t have an ally. You know my dad said a total of fifteen words to me last year. I counted them. I wrote each one down. None of them contained the word love. Or pride. Or happiness. I’m scared to break free, but it hurts to keep experiencing it. I figured if I could bring Adriane back and see she wasn’t happy I’d realize the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.” I feel her staring at me, and I’m struggling keeping control of the car. My hands are shaking, and my heart is beating fast . . . too fast. “But that wasn’t the case. She’s just fine without us. Without me. I don’t know how to process that. She’s the one who is supposed to understand me above all others.”

I hate that part of me feels sorry for her. Empathizes with her. She doesn’t deserve it. I don’t want to give it. Her ramblings and confessions confuse me. She has Avery who loves her and was her sister. Mason, Caden, and Deacon would do anything for her. She turned her back on all of them – for Adriane. I don’t understand.

Yet at one time she gave me confidence. She gave me friendship. With all my struggles and hang-ups. My quirks and my defenses. She never questioned if I was justified in feeling what I did. She didn’t chastise me for not being able to move on.

I can’t pretend to know what happened in her home. Just as she can’t know what transpired in mine. “Why? I don’t understand.” The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know. I need to get her to her mom and be on my way.

When we become the judge of another, we become a hypocrite. We want our mistakes, our transgressions forgiven. People do heinous things daily, we don’t have to agree, we don’t have to accept, but we don’t have to judge.

Can I forgive her? I don’t know.

Will it take time? I don’t know if I’ll live long enough.

Will I somehow be her friend through this? Yes. It’s that simple. I wish someone had been my dad’s friend and not his enabler. I won’t dismiss everything she did, but I won’t give her any ammunition to keep hurting. Herself or others.

“Come on,” I wait for her to walk with me to her front door.

“What are you doing, Saylor?”

“I’m being a friend. I’m going to go inside, fix coffee, make sure you and your mom eat. I’m going to take care of you until your dad can come home and do it. Then I’m going to tell him what a gift he is missing. After that, I don’t know, Emberlee. I’m going to be hurt for a while. I’ll be angry. I don’t know that you’ll ever have my forgiveness, but for now you have my comfort.”

“I know why that boy loves you.” Her steps falter as she faces me. “And to answer your question of why I destroyed everything – I found a letter. Adriane isn’t like a sister . . . she could be my sister.” Her eyes meet the sidewalk in shame. “Nobody knows.”

“And nobody will.” I draw a breath and share with her. “I have no clue how I’m going to prove to him I love him.”

“But it’s my fault.”

“Not all of it. I gave up. I didn’t fight for him, and if anyone deserves someone to battle for their love . . . it’s Deacon Douglas.”

“Emberlee,” her mom calls from the porch. I hold her hand as we walk up the driveway, and I do everything I promised her.

Still undefeated. Still clueless how I’m going to continue playing ball. Still not ready to walk away. I’ve got three games to come to terms with this decision . . . one week to say goodbye to my mistress – I remember carrying that round ball in my hand for days on end. Getting use to the feel of it until it became an extension of me. The stitching is what soothed me many nights of my youth; rubbing my thumb over the white cowhide and feeling the bumps under my thumb. I toss the ball up and watch as it spins and eventually lands in my glove. Over and over I do this, sort of my own memorial to a game that’s shaped me.

“Deacon! Mason! Caden!” Avery calls us from the stands. She points to the dugout, and we meet her there. The fence separates us, but I still see the tears. The fear in her eyes.

“Is Julie okay?”

“Yes. It’s Mr. Winchester.” She squeezes her eyes. “He is missing. An explosion on base, and it’s been nine hours. They’ve pulled some bodies, but they haven’t been identified.”

“What do we do?” Caden is torn. His loyalty is his honor, and the fact Emberlee did what she did. It’s the hardest for him to come to terms with.

“We do what we always do. We support each other. It sucks considering none of us are speaking to her, but we know it has to be done.” Mason is the voice of reason for the first time in his life.