“Where are we going?” Coach asks from the passenger seat.
I wanted to take my truck. As distraught as he seems, I didn’t want him driving although I’m a little on edge too. I feel like a schmuck, accusing Emily of ratting me out to her old man.
“A rave.” It’s early Monday morning. I’m not sure if the party has broken up. I was usually there at around one in the morning, not three, when I was selling drugs. For all I know, the place is shut down.
“Is this rave where you sold drugs?” he asks in an even tone.
I zip through the deserted streets, stopping at lights and passing homeless sifting through the city’s trashcans.
“It’s one of the places,” I tell him. “Coach, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t going to help Emily, son.” He doesn’t yell, but he sounds like he’s already lost his daughter.
And my stomach knots into one big ball.
“Why did you do it, Miller?”
“I needed the money.”
“If you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?”
“I can’t burden you with my problems. They’remyproblems. Not yours.”
“I’m assuming you met Emily through the drug scene. How long has she been doing drugs?”
I puff out my cheeks, releasing some nervous energy. Honestly, I can’t give him a straight answer. When I met her, she was using. Still, it isn’t my place to tell him.
“Coach, I want you to know you’ve been like a father to me. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.” I pause to collect my thoughts, glancing briefly at him.
His lips are pinched, and his focus is on the road like he’s the one driving.
“I fucked up. I know you’re upset with me more about drugs than losing the football game. But please hear me out.” I don’t want to open up if he isn’t going to listen.
“I’m all ears.”
I launch into the same story I told Sam about my past and what led me to return to selling drugs again. By the time we’re a block from the warehouse, Coach is up to speed on my entire life.
“I get you want to support your family,” Coach says. “But the drug business isn’t the way to do that.”
I did what I had to do for Mom and Phoebe, but I’m not about to argue the point. “One more thing.”
“There’s more?” His eyes open wide.
My pulse quickens. “I love your daughter, sir. From the moment I laid eyes on her, she stole my breath away. I did everything I could to get her to stop. And she did. She was happy.” I bite down on my lip as we approach the warehouse. “We both were.”
I park across the street, watching a couple stumbling out of the warehouse, but it’s not Emily or Zach or even Scarlett.
Coach climbs out of the truck, stalking over to the couple. I rush to catch up with him. I doubt he wants to see the scene inside even if Emily isn’t here.
I cover my nose as we enter, almost heaving up the contents of my stomach. The place reeks of sweat, sex, and piss.
Coach’s head swivels around in slow motion. “For fuck’s sake.” He scowls as he drinks in the scene.
A couple to our right is on a dirty couch fucking like dogs in heat, panting and moaning, uncaring who sees. The girl has her head thrown back, and her black sweaty hair is stuck to her face.
Coach stiffens, shaking his head sadly as he looks around. “I’ve failed my daughter.”
It hurts me to see the pain on Coach’s face.
