Take Me On

“That was a battle. Not the war. You used to have better perspective.”


For months I worried about being accepted into college and now I wish I would have never received the acceptance. I toss the paperwork to the floor. “How do I help him?”

“This is something he has to work out. In the meantime, you keep going forward.”

Forward. But I want to go back...back home, back when Dad had a job, back when there was hope. “I’m worried about him.”

John’s silent for a few seconds. “I am, too. I’m worried about all of you, your mom included. It’s a heavy burden on me that I can’t provide a proper home for my daughter.”

“Mom’s aunt Vi contacted her again. She wants us to move to California to live with her,” I say this to gauge his reaction. My great-aunt Vi is his sister-in-law, my grandmother’s sister. She and John hated each other, but she loved her sister and my mother.

“Your mom told me.” He glances away. “I told her she should consider it.”

“Mom wants to wait until Kaden and I graduate.” If I don’t win a scholarship by then, I could be moving with them. “Maybe Dad will do better in California.”

The grim set of his lips creates a crawling sensation along my skin. “What?”

“Your father’s in a bad place. He used to be a fighter, but I’m not sure he has fight left in him anymore.”

“He’s a fighter.” Even the best fighters have a rough time running uphill with weights on their backs. I just have to take a couple of those weights off. The first place to start is to win that scholarship. “I’ll spar. Today. Tomorrow. Whenever. In exchange, I need a letter from you for a scholarship and I also need you to train West.”

“I’ll train West if you agree to fight for me. Not spar.”

I can’t fight. “Then I’ll spar if you give me the letter and Jax and Kaden. Tell them they have to help me with West.”

John cracks a rare real grin. “Now we’re talking.”





West

On the floor, I tighten the screw, then test the half door attached to the wall that, in theory, keeps people from behind the bar. Last night, somebody tore it off the hinges during a fight. Today: good as new. Satisfied, I sit back and observe the few people milling about. The same thought circles my mind: Is one of these guys my mom’s brother?

It’s Saturday and for the millionth time, I wish Haley had a cell. This whole only talking to her when I see her is too old-school for me. Last night I asked her if we were still a couple and she asked for time. Waiting until Monday at school to discover the answer is driving me insane.

“It’s killing you, isn’t it?” Abby plops onto a stool and I stand. How the hell does she know about me and Haley? She swivels to survey the tables. “Wondering which one it is.”

Ah, the brother. “Is he here?”

She pops peanuts into her mouth. “Nope.”

“Would you tell me if he was?”

“Uh-uh.”

I lean my back against the bar and rest my elbows on it. “You could be lying to me about my mom coming here to meet her brother.”

“I could. But I’m not.” She glances around. “Where’s Denny?”

Abby’s completely deadpan. There are two sides to the chick: full of shit and lethal. Either way, she’s hard-core. “He’s in the back with a delivery truck.”

“Did he leave me food?”

I reach behind the bar and hand her a foam container. Her eyes light up. “Spaghetti!” Abby twirls the noodles onto a plastic fork, then motions toward the swinging door. “You actually are handy. Impressive.”

I push the door again, awed by the sense of pride. “My dad will be disappointed I didn’t fuck something up.”

She humph-chuckles at my statement. “Your father is rather bitchy. By the way, Rachel might come home soon.”

Abby gains my full attention and my hands sweat. I want Rachel home. She needs to be home, but... “Her legs?”

“She’ll move around again, but with or without assistance, they don’t know.”

I rub at the muscles of my neck, somewhat relieved, somewhat devastated. Rachel should be maneuvering around the hood of her car, not constrained. When she’s home I’ll have no choice but to face her and I’ve got to find a way to make this up to her.

I watch as a new guy walks in. He has blond hair, like my mom. Blue eyes, too, but he’s rough as hell. “That one?” I ask.

“Not telling,” she mumbles through the food in her mouth.

“You didn’t even look.”

“Because I wouldn’t even answer.” She drops her voice to try to mimic me.

“Why would Mom lie? She told us she was an only child and that her parents died.”

“You can’t get it out of your mind, can you?”

I shake my head.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know more. It’s the stuff of nightmares. It even gives me cold chills if I think about it at three a.m.”