Tapped (Totaled Book 2) (6 page)

            “What?” My heart dropped into my stomach and I felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me. “What do you mean, he left?”

            “He’s upset, of course. He feels awful, but this is bigger than him. His demons are much bigger than he can handle on his own. He needs help, Bree. Help that we can’t give him.”

            “So you did this?
You
made him leave?” I caught myself shouting into the phone. “Where’s he going to go?
We’re
all he has.
We’re
his family!” I somehow suddenly felt like this was all my fault. If I had just gone home, I could’ve better managed the situation. Dad would’ve overreacted, but I could’ve handled him. “What did you say to him?”

            “I just went over there to check on him. He didn’t show up for training for two days in a row and told Liam that he didn’t feel well. I was worried and I
thought
you were out of town. He looked like pure shit. Hadn’t showered or shaved in days.”

            My heart physically ached as I listened and pictured my Drew torn up over all this. Throw in my dad showing up…

            “He just came out and told me what happened.”

            “And?” I wanted to know every word that was said.

            “And I wanted to kill him. I wanted to choke the life out of him with my bare hands for hurting my baby. But during his confession, I had a pang of sympathy. I felt for the guy. He’s seriously messed up, Bree.”

            “Okay, but what did he say?” I felt needy and desperate to know.

            “Look, I’m not gonna give you a word-for-word recount of our conversation. This isn’t a damned soap opera. Here’s the gist: he has some serious unresolved issues and apparently has nightmares every single night. He claims he’s never hurt anyone else because no one has ever been next him in bed overnight.” He stopped, groaned. Overprotective Papa Bear was starting to stand on his hind legs and show his teeth. “That was about the time that I stopped listening, because all I could picture was you lying next to him in bed overnight. I know you’re an adult, but you’re still my baby girl.”

            “I’m sorry, Dad.”

            It was all I could say. He shouldn’t have to hear about his unmarried daughter in bed with his number one fighter. He shouldn’t have had to hear how he beat her senseless in the middle of some freak night terror.

            “I can’t believe you didn’t kill him.”

            If I knew anything about my father, it was that he had a quick temper and was extremely difficult to talk down when he got pissed. I was shocked that he was able to keep his cool, especially face to face with Drew.

            “Believe me, I wanted to. But you should’ve seen him. He was crushed. Crushed. It broke my heart. Drew has become like a son to me, Bree. I care about him and I felt like I needed to step up and enforce some fatherly tough love,” he defended. “I told him to leave. I told him to not come back until he was better. He needs to be shoved into getting help for this and I won’t allow you to be caught in some destructive web while he does it.”

            I listened to my father justify his actions with half an ear. I’d started to shake. I couldn’t deal with the myriad of emotions assaulting me. He was right, but it hurt too badly. My heart ached for Drew but my head screamed that this decision was the right one. My fingers tingled with the need to comfort him. My body longed for him to comfort me. The internal conflict was killing me and I could do nothing but cry.

            “I love him, Dad. I love him so much. And he didn’t mean to do this,” I whispered, my sorrow lacing my words.

            “I know, baby girl. But you can’t be with him. Not like this.” His words were empathetic but firm. This was non-negotiable.

            “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

            “You’ll get to see him again, Bree. Just not any time soon. He needs to navigate through this with our help and part of that is you keeping your distance. He can’t take care of you if he doesn’t even have himself right. And isn’t that what you want? Ultimately, don’t you want to marry someone who can be your rock? Aren’t you sick of taking care of everyone else?” I caught his voice hitch at the end of his question, like he realized what he was saying before he could stop it from coming out.

            “Are you still going to coach him?”

            “Of course I am. He’s going to take some time off and start getting some help. He’s staying with Mick, so I’ll be in touch with him,” he revealed, and I couldn’t help but smile. He really did care. “We’ll all figure this out together.”

            “Thank you, Dad. For not giving up on him,” I murmured. “I know he won’t let you down.”

            “I don’t think he will either, which is why I’m giving him this chance. But I insist that you respect my wishes and don’t try to contact him for right now. When he does finally return to the gym, we’ll figure out a schedule that keeps the two of you apart until I’m confident that he’s on the path to being okay.”

            The thought of not seeing Drew was agonizing, but at this point, I would’ve agreed to anything to ensure he got another chance. I knew he could beat this. I knew he could get better. I believed in us. I had faith that what we had together was strong enough to make it through a temporary separation and I hoped that Drew did too. I had to surrender any doubt and be confident in our connection. And I had to be loyal to my father’s wishes. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only chance he had. 

            “Now will you please come home?” he begged. “Enough hiding. Come home.”

            “What about Liam? I don’t want him to see me like this. It’ll scare him. And Drew is his friend. He won’t understand any of this,” I bemoaned.

            “You don’t give your brother enough credit. He’s a fighter too, ya know. He’s seen his fair share of battered faces.
You
know how to talk to him. Just explain it. He’ll understand.”

            I wanted to believe that to be true. And God knows I wanted to go home.

            “I’ll come home later today. But talk to him. Give him some warning,” I insisted, my anxiety blossoming at the thought of being a fly on the wall for that conversation.

            “Will do. Drive safe home,” he instructed before hanging up.

            I dragged myself up from the floor, righting my posture and feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Everyone knew. Well, almost everyone. And I could go home. I strolled down the hallway with purpose to find Sue and Alan in the kitchen cleaning up the mess from our fajita dinner.

            Sue heard me approach and turned from drying dishes in my direction. “Everything okay?” she asked, concerned.

            “Yeah. I think so. That was my dad. He knows everything,” I blurted out.

            “What?” The shock on her face was almost comical. “What do you mean, everything?”

            “He went over to Drew’s house because he hadn’t showed up at the gym. He was just checking on him, perfectly innocent. Just being nice. And Drew told him everything.” I felt good saying it. I was proud that Drew was a stand-up guy, telling the truth and mature enough to accept the consequences of his actions.

            “Holy shit,” Sue yelped, dropping the pan she was drying onto the counter top with a bang. “I can’t believe he told him.”

            “He’s a good guy, Sue, despite your impressions. He cares about me. And no matter what you may think, he didn’t mean to do this,” I defended.

            “Listen, I’m glad that everything is out and you don’t have to hide here anymore,” she said evenly. “But I’m not so quick to just forgive this. I think he’s dangerous and I’m not so sure he’s not manipulating your dad to save face with his career.”

            If I were standing next to her, I would’ve slapped her. I took a solid minute to calm my rage and think about my next words.

            “You can think whatever you want to think. I don’t need your approval. What I need is for you to take me home.” If I didn’t stop there and walk away, I would say things that I couldn’t take back later. I held my head high and left the room to take a shower. I needed to wash away the irritation and fear and try to refresh myself. It was time to ready myself for the next obstacle: facing Liam, my father, and reality.

Chapter Eight

DREW

            I didn’t want it to be awkward and uncomfortable when I sat down at Joan and Mick’s dinner table. But it was. I didn’t want to feel like a stranger in their home again, but I did. I was a stranger. I’d changed. I’d done something unthinkable to someone that they knew and loved. I’d hurt Bree, and by doing so, I’d hurt everyone else that cared about her. There was an eerie tension, a cloud of mistrust, and I was depressed that I had brought that into their home.

            “Drew, if it’s aw’ight with you, I’ll say grace,” Mick offered.

            I nodded in acceptance, thankful he gave me an out. I wasn’t sure I could speak past the lump in my throat.

            “Lord, we thank ya for bringing us all together on this beautiful night and ask that ya bestow upon us a few blessings. Please bless this food and the hands that helped to harvest and prepare it for us to enjoy. Please bless it to the nourishment of our bodies so that we may better serve you, Lord. Bless our friend, Drew, who’s found himself in need of your guidance now more than ever, Lord. Please help him find his way back to you. Please bless Joan and me with the right words and advice to give him. Please bless Bree and help her heal and forgive. Please bless Pat and Liam and steer them to absolve Drew of his failures and excuse him of any harm he has done. Please be with us every step of the way, Lord, as we all help one another to get through this tough time. We ask these blessings in your precious and holy name, Jesus. Amen.”

            I said “Amen,” but hesitated to lift my head. The prayer that Mick had just spoken was single handedly the most touching and equally painful thing I had ever heard. How was I supposed to hold it together?

            “Well said, honey,” Joan interjected. “A tad heavy, but I suppose it was necessary.”

            “What? I can’t help it. You say grace next time if you wanna make it light and fluffy. I speak from the heart,” Mick quipped.

            “You also speak without your twangy accent when you say grace,” Joan teased.

            I laughed, appreciative of her lightening the mood.

            “I do no such thing!” Mick defended, looking at me for back up.

            I answered him reluctantly. “You kind of do. You speak much more proper, like you’re giving a speech or something. Articulate and poised.”

            “Well, I kinda am givin’ a speech. And to the most important person to be speakin’ to, I might add. Y’all leave me alone and dig in already! Harrassin’ me ‘bout my prayers. Don’t make me take it all back!” he threatened.

            Joan and I laughed and began spooning our dinner onto our plates.

            “Let’s just enjoy this night without all the heavy stuff right now. Let’s catch up and have fun, agreed?” Joan proposed.

            I smiled and nodded at her and Mick mumbled something under his breath, but acquiesced.

            We sat at their table for a good two hours while I brought them up to date on everything that had happened this summer. It was fun telling them stories of my first UFC fight and eventual victory. It was not so fun telling them about the bar fight that followed, landing Liam in the hospital fighting for his life. They were engaged and genuinely interested, but I couldn’t ignore the obvious intention on both their parts to avoid asking and talking about Bree. I hated it. I wanted to talk about her. I missed her terribly and would’ve given anything to speak about her or to her. But I knew I couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least.

            Joan insisted that she get no help cleaning up after dinner and sent me away. I thanked her and bent down to hug her tightly. Instead of patting my back dismissively during the embrace, she squeezed and rubbed circles and whispered into my ear, “This is all gonna be okay. You’ll see. Don’t give up on yourself. Don’t give up on her.”

            We released each other and I thanked her with a smile. I felt better about everything but simultaneously felt like I needed air. Strained, I walked out onto the back deck, the warm night air still and thick with the sounds of the country. Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, the horses off in the distance snorting and blowing the dust from their noses. The sky was vast and open, pitch black and without a cloud, every star screaming for attention. I stood still and lost myself in my thoughts, feeling so small. I imagined Bree was somewhere looking up at the same sky; I wished I could be holding her in that moment.

            But I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve her. My brain insisted that I start to accept that, but my heart was fighting hard to resist logic.

            I walked out into the backyard, the ground barely visible in front of me in the dark of the night, carefully wandering until I found the gate to the stables. I let myself in and walked over to Ginger, my old friend. She was standing up, her head protruding over the wooden railing, and looking in my direction, like she was expecting me. I approached her with caution, still not completely comfortable around such large and unpredictable creatures. She blew air out of her nose and lowered her head to me as she emitted a faint nicker. I swore she was greeting me. I slowly raised my hand to rub her head, moving a little closer as I stroked her nose back and forth. I looked into her eyes and felt immediately more connected.

            “Hey, old girl. Remember me? I know it’s been a while,” I said softly as we became reacquainted. “Is Mick treating you well? He feeding you enough? Riding you enough? ‘Cause you just let me know if you need anything.” She leaned into my hand, enjoying the touch. The emotional shitstorm that was brewing just under the surface, dying to be released, was making me feel sick and somehow I sensed that Ginger could feel it too. I stood to her right side, rubbing both sides of her head behind her ears. All of a sudden she lowered her whole head, leaning down onto my right shoulder. She left it there, like she was almost hugging me.