Take Me On

Her hold on me tightens and she gulps for air. “It’s okay, Dad. Don’t worry. It’s okay.”


The forced cheer in her voice causes me to fall back onto my ass. “Fuck this.” Taking a page from Abby’s book, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear Haley excuse her father for permitting anyone to call her a slut.

We remain silent as he stands on the front porch stoop, frowning at the brown winter grass. Her fingernails keep their teeth locked on my arm and the skin underneath begins to throb. I watch Haley, willing her to acknowledge me. Instead she focuses on nothing, on everything, once again locked inside her head.

“You have ten minutes before you need to be inside for curfew,” her father says. The screen door squeaks shut behind him.

Against the cold dirt and sparse grass, the two of us sit alone. “I’m waiting.” For an explanation, for a mere word, for a glance.

“For what?” she snaps.

Is she for real? “For you to explain what the hell is going on and why the fuck your family stood by and let some asshole treat you like shit.”

Flames blaze out of her eyes. “Because they have self-restraint. Because they aren’t like you. Do you want to know why I freak out over you being in the cage? It’s not because you aren’t capable or strong—it’s because you don’t think. Ever. You are impulsive and let your emotions rule your decisions.”

“He called you a slut!” She’s not getting it.

“Yeah, he did and you took off swinging. In order to survive, you’ve got to be smart. You’ve got to think. With a temper, you forget your training and start swinging wildly. That type of attitude will get you killed.”

“And you think so much that you never act. Rolling over and dying or letting people treat you like shit isn’t the answer, either.”

Haley closes her eyes. “I’m not a slut.”

“Never thought you were. In fact, I’m the only one willing to defend that.”

Besides the rumble of traffic on the nearby interstate, we stew in silence. She’s mad at me, I’m mad at her and, if I don’t do something drastic, I’ll lose the only good thing in my fucked-up life. “I’m in love with you.”

Finally, the girl looks at me. “What?”

“I don’t know.” I gesture to the house, the yard, the dirt surrounding us. “I’m not sure what suggested romance. Maybe it was the screaming match or the way my girlfriend kicked my ass to the ground, but I love you.”

Her mouth gapes. “I...I...”

“I don’t want you to say it back now. One of us should have some class.” Or maybe she doesn’t feel the same or maybe she’ll listen to her uncle and dump my ass. Either way, I don’t want to find out, at least not yet. “Can I say one more thing?”

She barely nods once.

“I don’t like how every time I’ve tried to defend you that you step in my way.”

“My uncle would have thrown us out!”

“And with Matt?”

“I would have lost my job.”

She’s probably right on both counts, but there’s something dark in her eyes. It’s the same shadow I see whenever she stops me. “You’re worth fighting for.”

“I’m not.” The way she answers too fast with too much conviction twists my insides. When the three men who should be taking bullets for her stand by and let insults be thrown at her, how can I convince her otherwise?

“You are. You deserve better than this.”

The air thickens with her quiet resolve. I slide over and wrap an arm around her shoulder. She stays frozen, unmoving. Come on, Haley... “I mean it. I’m in love with you.”

She releases a long stream of air and I briefly close my eyes when she settles her head on my shoulder. “Tell me we’re still together, Haley.”

“I slept with Matt,” she says.

My head drops back, but I keep her body tight to mine, even when she tries to pull away. She slept with Matt. Slept with him. Had sex with him. They were together for a year. What the hell did I think they would be doing?

I long to reach inside my brain and tear out the images those four words produced. Thinking of her with another guy—kills me. Thinking of her with the bastard I hate the most—slays me. I say I love her; she announces she slept with the guy. Unfortunately, her admission seems to fit into this mess.

“Okay?” I’m not a good enough person to keep the edge out of my voice.

“While Matt and I were together, Matt told Jax about our...um...” Haley covers her eyes with her hand and her shyness, her embarrassment, chips away at some of my anger.

“Extracurricular activities?” I need a shotgun to blow the scenarios out of my head.

“Yeah, that. Matt told him before a match to piss him off and it worked. Jax lost his temper, which means he lost his game plan, which means he lost the fight. Sound familiar?”

“Temper. Fights. Moving on.”

“I’m serious. You need to work on impulsive decision making.”

I mess a hand through my hair. “I’ve got images of Matt too near you for comfort. Keep talking before I perform my own lobotomy.”