He chuckles. “Do you want to think about it? It’s a nice offer. You won’t have debt collectors calling you or coming to take your junky car. You won’t have anyone garnishing your wages, assuming you make it back to work. And all you have to do is stay away from a girl you barely know.”
“And your family stays away from Lacey?” I add.
Adam seems surprised. “Sure, why not.” He shrugs and extends his hand to me. We shake, and he pulls out a wad of cash and sets it on my tray. “You can count it if you want. I’ll settle up in billing on my way out.”
He leaves, and the regret seeps in.
Twenty-Seven
Thea
“Cookie, you have to eat.”Nolan places a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich in front of me and immediately the smell turns my stomach.
It’s been days since I last saw Kyler. Even longer since I spoke to him. He didn’t give me the time of day when I showed up after the game a few nights ago; instead, he got in his car and drove off at speed. I get it. He’s pissed. A bomb was dropped at Lacey’s birthday party and the after effects of its detonation are still being felt now. That’s the thing, though. It doesn’t just affect him, it’s affects all of us, only he didn’t stick around long enough to realize it.
“I’m not hungry,” I say as I push the bowl away. “And why are you calling me ‘cookie’?”
Nolan pushes the bowl back to me. “I figured if I had a term of endearment for you, it’d make you feel a little better. And you’re the cook of the house, ergo, ‘cookie’.”
“Well, this is me officially vetoing it.”
“Fine, but you gotta eat. This is non-negotiable. Don’t make me feed you, Thea. I’m not above going into full on care mode.”
“He’s got a point, Thea,” Millie adds as she walks through the kitchen from the laundry room, carrying a basket of clean clothes. I’m not sure at what point she arrived, but my best friend has taken on the role as mother hen of the house; a role I normally slip into with ease.
With a sigh of exasperation, I take the spoon laid out before me and dip it in the soup, stirring it idly before taking a sip. The tomato flavor barely registers on my taste-buds, but my stomach tells me it’s been longing for sustenance regardless of whether I feel like eating or not.
“Have you heard anything yet?” I ask, dipping the sandwich into the soup and watching as it slowly seeps up the red liquid.
“Not yet. Don’t worry, Thea, he’ll be home soon.”
Jude got a call early this morning from Coach. Kyler’s car was found by an old warehouse on the outskirts of town and whoever found it recognized the NU hockey jersey Ky had in the back seat. Jude and Devon took the spare keys and went to retrieve it. All we know so far is Ky’s hockey gear was in the back, and nothing appears to have been stolen or damaged, which means Kyler drove it there himself. Why? We don’t know yet, but I can’t stop the nagging feeling I have that the warehouse was the venue of the illegal fights he regularly goes to. And if I’m right, I can’t help but think the worst has happened—why else would Kyler abandon his car? I’m hoping the boys can find out more information when they drop by their coach’s house on the way back.
“It just doesn’t make sense. Why not go to his mom’s place? Why not come back here? Why hasn’t he been at college? I just . . . I’m worried about him.”
Worried is an understatement. Going days without communication to any of us is out of character for Kyler. Not to mention not turning up for practice. He lives and breathes hockey and has said many times he wanted to go professional because it was his ticket out of here; so, to not turn up and put his career at risk is a cause for concern. I’m almost certain he blames me for Adam and his parents’ arrival at Lacey’s party. He likely thinks I’m the one who planned it all and tricked him into letting me get close to his family, so I can pass on the information to the Nelsons. By association to me, I assume he also blames Jude. But to cut off Nolan and Devon when they’ve done nothing wrong? I have no doubt there’s more to Kyler’s silence than meets the eye. And every time I think about it—which is pretty much all the time—brings a stone of anxiety to the pit of my stomach. Something is very wrong—I can feel it—and dread and panic are simmering under the calm façade I’m holding on to. One that’s slowly slipping away as the minutes, hours, and days pass.
“He’ll be okay T. This is Kyler we’re talking about. He can look after himself,” Millie says with an air of confidence as she takes the seat next to me and pulls me into her embrace.
She’s right, Kylercanlook after himself, but she’s missing the point. They all are. He’s not himself. He’s angry and feeling betrayed. He already had the weight of the world on his shoulders and now? Now it’s worse because he thinks his niece could be taken away from her mother—and her family—at no notice. Jude’s already mentioned Kyler was seething at their last game and it felt as if his mind was all over the place and he wasn’t concentrating on the play. He ended up in the sin bin more times than any player that night and Coach eventually had to send him off the ice. I felt the resentment oozing off him when he brushed past me outside the arena and it was clear to me all the rage and wrath he felt toward the Nelsons was building up inside him. He was on the verge of exploding and needed an outlet to let all the hatred spill out. Yet only I know that outlet is likely to be an illegal fight. And, once I tell the others, there’s a risk it will get back to their coach and Kyler’s time on the team will be cut short. I’m not going to be the one who ruins things for him and give him another excuse to hate me.
The sound of car doors slamming has me dropping my spoon into the soup bowl and turning around in my seat. Devon walks through the front door first, followed by Jude and they both come into the kitchen.
“Any news?” I ask eagerly, my eyes following their every move.
Jude sits down heavily at the table in the corner, looking as if he’s aged ten years in four hours. Devon doesn’t look any better and desperation, fear and panic all take a hold of my body.
“We spoke to Coach,” Devon tells us. “Kyler’s in hospital.”
I can barely hold it together and the heat builds up behind my eyes, bringing with it an unwelcome moisture. My hand covers my mouth but it’s unsuccessful in holding back the gasp and questions that fall out. “Wh-what? When? Why? Is he okay?”
“All we know is he was admitted four days ago—”
“Four days?” I know my interruptions are not helping, but I can’t help the shock and worry taking over any coherent thoughts I have. Devon clears his throat before continuing.
“But he was badly injured and so they sedated him. He had no ID on him, so they couldn’t notify anyone until he gained consciousness. All signs point to him being in an attack, or fight or something, but whatever it was, it wasn’t a fair one. Coach doesn’t know the extent of his injuries as he’s not Ky’s next of kin, but he’s the person Ky requested they call.
“Fuuuuccck!” Nolan swears under his breath and a sob falls out of me before I can stop it.