Chapter 7
Nolan
FIVE YEARS AGO
The normally delicious smell of Mom’s chicken casserole wasn’t enough to hide the stench of fear and booze sitting heavy in the kitchen air. I grabbed a dinner plate from the cupboard. Dad expected me to serve him, just as he expected Mom to do the same. While I might not have cared if he was fed or not, I knew that if I didn’t do it, Mom would ultimately pay for my recklessness.
I placed the plate full of food at his spot on the table.
“When’s she coming home?” he asked, still leaning against the kitchen counter, whiskey bottle in hand. He made no move to sit. If I wanted to leave, I’d have to walk past him, dangerous glint in his eyes or not.
“She didn’t say.” Never, if Mom and Sarah were smart about it.
And maybe that was their plan.
Before I could do any form of rejoicing, a voice at the back of my head muttered, As if that would ever happen. Not as long as Mom believed that staying here was the only way she could provide for herself and her kids. It wasn’t a big deal for me. I was nineteen and could leave anytime I wanted. But Sarah was only eleven.
I moved away from the table, ready to make my escape.
Dad grabbed my arm. “I’m not through talkin’ to you.”
I snatched my arm back and stalked to the kitchen door. “I need to do my homework.”
As I reached to open the door, I heard a grunt behind me and instinctively spun around. That was the only warning I got. A blunt object hit my forehead, above my right eye. Whatever he’d thrown at my head shattered on contact with the stone-tiled floor.
I stood still, momentarily stunned, too dazed to fight back.
My father snatched the whiskey bottle from the counter and topped up his empty glass. His hand shook as he poured the brown liquid. It wasn’t shaking because he’d hit me. He’d been drinking ever since he got home and found his wife and daughter gone. The note Mom had left said that her friend had suffered a stroke. There was no hint in it as to when they would return.
I blinked my senses back into place and walked out of the kitchen and out the front door. Adrenaline pumped through my body and I started running: down the front path, across the street, to the back of Hailey’s house. If it hadn’t been for my sister and mother, I would have kept running and never looked back.
Blood dripped down the side of my face. I brushed the back of my hand against my forehead. It stung like hell but somehow I managed not to flinch. Blood was smeared against the back of my hand, warning me I couldn’t hide the truth from Hailey.
As I contemplated turning around and walking to who knows where, Hailey’s window opened.
“I’ll be right down,” she said through the screen. “Meet me out front.”
She was already waiting for me in the doorway when I came up the pathway. Her short shorts revealed her toned, never-ending legs; her light purple tank top hinted at the lack of a bra. And I instantly forgot what had happened at home.
Frowning, she brushed my bangs across my forehead and inspected the wound. “You’re gonna need stitches. It’s pretty bad….What happened?”
“I walked into the patio door. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t realize it was closed.” As much as I hated lying to her, I couldn’t tell her the truth.
I couldn’t risk my mother’s life.
Chapter 8
Hailey
For a moment Nolan looked dazed. Before I could ask him if he was okay, he shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts, and stared at my best friend. It was clear that she looked familiar to him but he just couldn’t figure out why.
Nothing about this should have made me feel jealous, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t affect me. Sure, Kayla was the kind of girl guys normally drooled over. And, sure, her curvy body and long blond hair were guy magnets. But she had a boyfriend whom she loved. And even if she was interested in Nolan, he wasn’t mine, and never had been. He was free to stare at any girl he wanted to.
“Well, this explains the excitement at the nurses’ station,” Kayla said. “The prodigal rock star has returned.” She hugged me hard, squeezing the air from my lungs. And I silently thanked the pain-med gods for my happy state of oblivion when it came to the pain I’d otherwise be feeling.
Kayla pulled away and whacked my arm. “Don’t ever do that again. Promise me.”
“Er, what exactly am I promising you?” For all I knew, she was referring to something that had happened during those five days missing from my memory.
She gestured at the hospital bed. “This. You being attacked. Getting yourself almost killed. It’s the unspoken deal we made when we agreed to be best friends. Remember?”
I chuckled. “I do vaguely remember something about that.” I looked at my other best friend, who was still watching Kayla, frowning. “Nolan, you remember Kayla, right?”