Page 106 of Hard to Hold

“It was dry and I made it livable but it gave me what I needed, an address so that I could train at the academy without them asking questions. My only goal was to play football. At first when she was sick, the dreams were to get her out of where we were so she could be more comfortable, and then after she died, it was the only thing I had to keep me going. I begged, borrowed, and stole, Lennox. Not just kits left in the lost property so I looked like I fit in either. I stole food. I would swipe change left out. I was a fifteen-year-old petty thief who was stealing to put food in my stomach whenever I could.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. Things got a little better when I received the scholarship to the academy. I had a place to live and regular meals. It was like winning the Lotto. Then the Mathesons became family in a sense, and gave me that taste of normality on the rare days I wasn’t playing football.”

“Why does no one know this about you?” I murmur.

“My life isn’t a feel-good movie, Lennox. It’s not something I’m proud of.” His voice breaks with shame and it damn near kills me.

“You went from nothing to being arguably one of the best footballers in the world. It’s more than a feel-good movie, it’s downright inspiring.” I throw my hands in the air. I have never met someone as self-made as Rush McKenzie. How did he survive? Thrive? Succeed? “Think of what that little boy at the first exhibition—”

“Scottie,” he says, and my heart warms that he remembers his name.

“Think of the hope you’d give Scottie if he knew how you made it.”

Rush shoves up off the bench and takes a few steps before coming back and sitting. There’s obviously something more here.

“You told me that I didn’t trust you. I struggle with trust, Lennox. With letting people get close. Especially after”—he flicks his hand in a show of indifference—“everything that happened recently. But after what you’ve shared with me this past weekend—your family and your life—I owe you this.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I say and reach out, needing to reassure him with my touch.

“Let me rephrase,” he says, meeting my eyes. “I want to let you in.”

My heart swells. I’m not sure whether I should be scared or elated, so I’ll settle for somewhere in the middle, because each one of those emotions means different things.

Fear means I know I’m going to hurt him. Elation means I want more with him and from him. And I’m not ready to commit to either yet, because I’m emotionally scared to take the chance.

“Rush.” My voice is so heavy with emotion. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m not making a mistake. Tell me that I’m talking to Lennox the woman and not Lennox the agent. Tell me that what I tell you will stay strictly between us. Tell me that I can trust you.”

“You can trust me, Rush.” I know the weight those words carry.

And . . . he does. He starts with the stolen cookies and banana, to a police officer who controls his son. He takes me through their history together, including his loyalty to a moment in time Archibald gave him that allowed him the life he now leads. He explains about Helen wrapping him in her motherly love even when she already had a son of her own who struggled often. A mother’s love that he so desperately needed. A family to turn to, who supported him, and who helped him bury the past he was so ashamed of.

Then he gets to the pictures of Esme and Rory and my heart sinks.

Not for anything other than how a teenage boy still feels like he owes a debt to others, when he’s the one who’s made himself the man he is today, not them.

“So that’s it. That’s everything.” His voice is shaky, and the way he stares at me, as if he’s waiting for me to look at him differently, nearly undoes me. I itch to pull him against me and hold on tight, but know he’ll feel pity instead of the overwhelming compassion I feel for him.

“Thank you for trusting me, Rush.”

“No comments? No anything?” he asks.

“If you want me to tell you I think less of you, then you’re crazy.”

“No, I thought you’d tell me I was crazy because I took the fall for Rory.”

“Is that what you’re most worried about?”

He refuses to look at me. I squat between his knees so he’s forced to look at me.

To anyone else hiking on this hill, we’re just a couple having an intense conversation eye to eye, heart to heart.

To me, walls are breaking down. I’m burdened with so much information.

Rush reaches out and toys with the charm on my necklace, the compass that is so similar in meaning to the one he sports over his heart, and a ghost of a smile plays over his lips.