Getting Played (Jail Bait, #2)

“I hate myself for my role,” he finally continues, and I duck behind the wall when he lifts his head. “But I also hate Maggie for hers. And Addie…” A pause. “She was forever picking fights with her mother. The more detached Maggie became, the more Addie pushed her buttons. I know it was a cry for attention, but she was an inexperienced driver. She should have pulled over if she was upset. Maggie should have made her. So many stupid choices all around.”


“My guilt over this has eaten me alive,” Becky says, “but you can play the blame game and ‘what if’ all day, Bruce. It’s not going to change anything, and you’ll only drive yourself crazy.” She hesitates. “Or back to the bottle.”

There’s a long pause and I hear Becky’s chair creak as she shifts in it.

“Oh, shit,” she hisses. “I lost track of time. Addie has to eat before she goes.” Then louder, “Addie! Dinner’s on!”

I take a few deep breaths to calm my shaking while I try to decide what to do. Do I tell them I heard? What would happen if I confronted them? I step out into the living room a minute later, shaking and still unsure what to do.

“Where are you off to?” Dad asks. He’s trying to smile, but it’s strained.

“Actually,” I say as I move to the table, “I’m working in the kitchen at Sam Hill after school and on weekends.”

He flinches at the name of his old haunt. “You’re not playing water polo?”

I shrug. “I needed to make some money.”

“I wish you’d let me help with those hospital bills,” Becky interjects as she dishes up slabs of lasagna and brings them to the table.

“I talked to the billing department,” Dad says, his gaze turning to me and sharpening. “Wanted to try to work out a payment schedule. They said someone has made two cash payments on our account. The woman at the desk up front said it was a young man. Very tall with dark hair.” His hard eyes cut to me. “Can you think of anyone who fits that description?”

My jaw drops.

Becky gives me a questioning squint. “Marcus?”

“I don’t know,” I say, but I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. He’s working two jobs to make ends meet, but he’s going to help me if it kills him.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dad says, serving up a slice of lasagna. “I’ve decided we’re going back to the Bay Area.”

A stone drops in my stomach and I go suddenly cold.

“I’ll have better luck finding a job in civilization. Addie can go back to her old school, so the transition shouldn’t be too hard…” He looks at me. “I think it will be good for both of us.”

I want to tell him I’m not going, but that would make me the worst daughter ever. Dad’s one minute out of rehab and I’m ready to abandon him.

But he’s lied to me all this time. Anger sparks in my chest and I almost lash out at both of them. I could almost forgive Dad having an affair. But not with Becky. Mom’s sister.

“I think you’re rushing into this decision, Bruce,” Becky says when I don’t respond. “Why don’t you take a few weeks to get back on your feet, and if you still feel this way, then by all means, you should go back to the coast. But…” she says, flicking me a glance, “I think it should be up to Addie where she finishes school.”

Dad splits a glance between us before his eyes settle on Becky and harden. “She’s staying with me, and I’ve already decided. We’re leaving in the morning.”

“I’ve got to go,” I say, spinning for the hallway, my dinner forgotten. My head is about to explode and I need to think before I say something I can’t take back.

“Addie!” Becky calls. “You have to eat.”

“I’ll get something at work,” I answer without slowing down.

I change in my room, but stop to listen when I hear whispered voices again.

“Is this because of us, Bruce?” Becky hisses under her breath. “Because you can’t keep uprooting that girl. You just said she needed stability.”

There’s a long pause. “I can’t do this,” Dad finally answers. “Being here with you now only reminds me of everything I’m trying to forget.”

A chair scrapes back and I swing my door closed when hear Dad’s heavy footfalls headed toward the hall.

I finish dressing and head to the front door. When I glance into Dad’s room on the way by, I realize when I thought he was unpacking, he was actually packing. His suitcase is down from the closet and open on his bed. He decided this while he was in rehab without even asking me.

“I’ll pack when I get home,” I tell him.

He gives me a sad nod.

“Let me give you a ride, Addie,” Becky says as I pass through the living room.

I start to protest, but she’s already through the garage door and climbing in the car, so maybe she just needs to be away from Dad for a minute.

I follow and climb into the passenger seat. We’re quiet for the ride, both absorbed by our thoughts, and she drops me at Sam Hill.

My mind races as I work. What are my options? Stay with Dad and go back to San Mateo…never see Marcus and hopefully Becky again. Do what Mom did and run away from all of it.

Or run to Marcus.

This is my fork in the road, and all I have is right now to decide which road to take.

I keep looking at the stool that Marcus has occupied every night this week. Tonight it’s empty, but as I work, I find the ghost of him is almost worse than having him sitting there watching me.