I smiled at her, and I wished I didn’t have to leave. I wanted to stay there forever. It was warm and clean. And I wouldn’t have to listen to my baby sister cry because she was hungry. A noise that would forever haunt me, I was sure.
My throat burnsas I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut. When tears threaten to spill, I’m grateful that it’s dark on this bus and that I got to sit alone. My pulse is racing, and my stomach feels sick. A lot of the shitty times, I try to push them down and not remember them. But right now, I need to think about them. I have to remember why I can’t let my old man back in.
That was the last time I saw my mom. By the time I returned home, she had been taken away.
The worst part about my sister being gone is that I can’t be there to make sure she’s okay.
And the worst part when it comes to losing Isla?
The same fucking thing.
I can’t be there to hold her if she has a panic attack. Or remind her how great she is, despite her biological dad being a piece of shit. I can’t do any of that. Once again, I’m useless.
The people I’m supposed to take care of, I always lose. And yet, my dad—a man I never wanted to see again—is showing up instead.
Fuck that. He made his bed. He’ll have to sleep in it.
TWENTY-FIVE
HENDRIX
“I feellike this should be illegal,” Cash says as we all pile out of his brother’s truck. “Like, this can’t actually be allowed. I feel dirty.”
“I feel like a fucking stud muffin.” Jameson smirks, patting his shoulder. “I mean—face it—I’m looking the handsomest out of all of you. I’m definitely going to raise the most money.”
“Yeah, probably to an old woman or some shit,” I tease him, even though I fucking hate that we have to do this.
I hate that I don’t know who is going to bid on Isla. And I really fucking hate that I don’t have the money to do it myself.
We walk through the fancy, huge-ass glass doors and follow the signs toward the One Wish event. The event center, where the dinner and auction are being held, is right off campus, and it’s one of the nicest places I’ve ever seen. But why would I expect anything less from Brody O’Brien? The dude probably has more money than he knows what to do with.
“Yo, Hunt,” someone calls from behind me, and when I turn and see it’s the man of the hour himself, I tell the guys I’ll catch up with them inside.
Holding his hand up to me, he pulls me against him and pats my back.
“How are you doing, kid? I’ve been following your games so far.” He drops his head down slightly, giving me a questioning look. “A little less fighting at that last game was nice. The sin bin’s all right from time to time, but you don’t want your ass to permanently be engraved in the seat, ya know?”
I chuckle, patting his shoulder as he releases me.
“Yeah, well, sometimes, it’s not bad in there.” I shrug, looking around. “I can’t believe you’re pimping us all out though. Seems a little illicit, O’Brien, I can’t lie.”
“Oh, cut it out right now,” he drawls. “You know you’ve done worse for less. Besides, this is for a damn good cause, Hunt. Look at how you’ve turned your life around just because you were given an opportunity.” He looks me up and down, winking. “Think of how many lives you could change if you went out there on the stage and showed them old biddies a little somethin’, somethin’ tonight.”
“That’s … so wrong,” I mumble, but I can’t stop from laughing because it’s Brody O’Brien, and the dude could get away with anything because he’s so damn charming. “But you’re right.” I stuff my hands into my pockets, shifting nervously. “I’m not good at this type of shit?—”
“Taking your clothes off? I’ve heard different,” he teases, grinning like a fool before smacking my arm. “I’m kidding, man.”
“No, I’m being serious,” I say, looking him in the eye. “You gave me a chance when the rest of the world was all right with leaving me behind. I was a kid, fresh out of juvie, with a fuck ton of issues, and you still got me set up so that I could play hockeyat the higher level.” I nod gratefully. “Thank you, O’Brien. I’m not one for feelings and shit, but you changed my life.”
Despite him getting older, he’s still rugged as hell. So, when his large hand pounds against my shoulder, I feel it.
“Happy to help, brother. I know what it’s like to look around and have zero hope.” He drops his hand down. “It’s why we do this. And you, being here tonight … you’re helping other kids. So, when you get out there and ol’ Betsy is trying to bid on you and you’re scared, just think of that.” He winks, giving my shoulder one last pat. “I’ll see you in there, man.”
As he struts off, joining a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and pulling her in for a kiss, I think about the speeches I’ve listened to where he’s talked about his old man and how relatable that was for me. And I remember all the shit I’ve read about what an animal that guy was on the ice. And like me, he had one hell of a temper and wasn’t afraid of fights either.
But he didn’t stay in the past. He went after more.
And when I turn slightly and see Isla walking in, wearing a light-yellow dress, making her more into sunshine than she already is, with her blonde hair down and wild, just the way I like it, I don’t want to fucking live in the past either. I’ll still never be good enough for her, but I’ve got to at least try to talk her into giving me a second chance.
