So that means public relations, giving the people what they want.
It means using whatever tactics we can – as long as they’re not immoral or illegal – to make as much money as possible for Never Alone. Because ultimately, it helps save lives through prevention campaigns, and it helps get justice through our legal assistance.
Immoral.
The word bounces around my head as I tell myselfthisdoesn’t qualify.
I’m not the most emotional man. I never have been.
Maybe – I reflect as I toss a bottle of water from hand to hand, still pacing – it’s all those knocks to the head on the football field.
But that’s not true.
I was a cold motherfucker before that and even before Anna died. Before some drunken moron decided to plow right into her.
Them. I have to remind myself of that.
Plowed intothem.
I can’t think about what happened right before.
The guilt’s real enough.
And the pain will never go away, not for my daughter, for little Anna. So innocent, who never hurt anybody, and never even thought to cause pain.
I pause in front of the mirror, staring at myself, hating the need for this. The only way to make my words hit, to give them the effect I need, is to think about my daughter, her bright eyes and flowing hair, and the fact that I can never have another child.
That would mean finding a woman I love.
I’m starting to wonder if I’m even capable anymore.
My cell phone rings from the old, cracked dresser. I pick it up.
“Bryce,” I say.
He’s an old football buddy turned PR manager and all-around general assistant. He’s an expert at logistics, keeping the charity running, and helping me bring my aspirations into the real world.
“How are you feeling?”
“How I feel before every speech.”
Bryce laughs gruffly. “So fantastic then?”
I sit down, staring at myself in the mirror. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I know you’ve got your reservations, butweboth know this is the best way to do it. If you make this speech work, you could inspire people. Even one person in that crowd, Logan, just one…you could save them from a life of drugs and depression and all that crap.”
I laugh just as gruffly. “It’s just a speech, Bryce. Relax.”
“You wouldn’t bother if it wasjust a speech. What does that even mean, anyway? That would be an ego trip, an excuse to go out there and talk just to have your voice heard.”
I massage my forehead, knowing he’s making sense, but I can’t help but be a little sarcastic.
“Oh yeah, and we both know I hate that, don’t I, Bryce? I’m not the sort of man to go around trying to get attention.”
“It’s all about dollars to those who need them,” Bryce says. “But you’re the boss. If you don’t want to….”
“I’m doing it,” I tell him. “I’m just venting. Of course, I’m going to do it.”