Dare You To (Pushing the Limits #2)(102)

I OPEN MY EYES AND CURSE. This is twice I’ve gone pathetic, fallen asleep, and Scott has had to carry me in. Just like the first night in this house, the blanket is tucked around me and my shoes are neatly placed near the bed. It’s dark and I don’t bother looking at the clock. I toss aside the blanket, climb out of bed, and head into the foyer.

In the kitchen, Scott sits at the island and stares at the countertop. I flop onto the cushy leather couch. I’ve lived in this house for three months and I’ve never sat here. “Nice couch.”

“It’s about time you tried it out,” Scott says.

He wears a Yankees T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Scott acts so grown-up at times I forget that he’s not even thirty yet. He slips off the stool and joins me in the living room. “Want to fill me in on Trent?”

“No.”

“Let me rephrase. Fill me in on Trent.”

Scott did hit the bastard. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and try to find the simplest and fastest explanation. “The f**king ass**le is the spawn of Satan and someone needs to stake the bastard in the heart, shred him to pieces, then set the pieces on fire.”

“Or take a swing at his head with a baseball bat?”

“Or that.” I smile weakly and Scott gives the same weak smile back. I told Ryan I’d stay. I finger the smooth material of the ribbon tied around my wrist. “Why did you leave us? You didn’t just leave me. You left Mom too.”

“Are you ready to discuss this calmly or are you looking for a screaming match?”

“Talk.” I think.

“When I left Groveton, I meant what I said. I fully intended to come back for you. I know I was young, but I loved you as if you were my own.”

I loved him like he was my father. I draw my knees up and wrap my arms around them.

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

“Because…” He starts and stops several times as the words catch in his mouth.

“Because I wouldn’t have made it out if I did. I couldn’t take you on the road with me and if I chose you then I would have had to quit baseball.

“If I stayed in Groveton, I have no doubt I would have become my father. Your dad swore to me he’d never be Dad, and the day he graduated from high school he turned into the same bastard our father was. I didn’t want trailer parks and I didn’t want girls hooked on drugs and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life hurting the people I said I loved. If I stayed, I would have become my father and one day I would have hurt you.”

I shake my head. Scott would never have hurt me. He wasn’t capable of it.

“I was so damned scared that when I began to run, I couldn’t stop. I was scared to face you again. Scared if I saw you, I’d stay and turn into my father.”

Scott swears and holds his hands together as if in prayer. I bite my lip when his voice cracks. “When you first moved here—every time I looked at you I saw the old man. I saw his anger coming out of your eyes. I saw your father’s bitterness wrapped up inside of you. As much as I’ve hated myself for leaving you behind, I don’t regret it. If I’d stayed I would have never broken free and all of that anger and bitterness I see in you would have been inside of me.”

I know the anger and bitterness he’s talking about. They’re the chains that weigh me down and threaten to drown me daily–at least until I found Ryan. But those chains returned with one phone call from Shirley and they’re slipping tighter around my throat. “Yay for you. You broke free and I got screwed.”

Scott leans forward. “I know it seems that way, but I broke free for you, too. I f**ked up.

I should have come back when I signed with the Yankees and dragged you to New York with me. I didn’t and I’m sorry, but I’m here now and this…” He holds his hands out and motions at the house. “This is your break, kid.

This is your baseball. All you have to do is trust me and take it. Whatever you want, it’s yours, but you have to let the past go.”

Scott is talking about hope and hope is a myth. He acts like it would be easy to leave Mom. As if I could effortlessly hand over the demons in my nightmares and somehow with the swish of a magic wand, everything would be okay. “What about Mom?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he stares at a thin scar on his right hand where he told me Grandpa had cut him with a knife when he was a kid. “She’s not my responsibility and she’s not yours either.”

“No. That’s where you’re wrong. Mom is my responsibility. It’s my fault that she’s miserable.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Whatever. I’ve been thinking, maybe you could give her some money. We could put her in one of those rehab places and when she’s clean we could move her someplace nicer.

Mom used to work and we could get her another job. She’s been down for so long and I know she keeps Trent because he has money. If you help her, I’m sure she can get better.”

“I can’t.”

My head snaps back as if he slapped me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” I did it. I came to him for help. I’m trusting him and he’s throwing it back in my face?

“I made myself and Allison a lot of promises when we moved to Groveton and more importantly when I brought you back into my life. Your mother is a line I can’t cross.”