Page 26 of Penance (Rising From the Ashes #2)

Theo

W hen I walk to the parking lot, Lily is sitting on the tailgate of my truck. Her long legs are crossed, showing off her tan. She has her eyes closed and her chin tilted up to the sky. The sun is starting to set behind her, and the whole picture looks so serene that it stops me in my tracks.

“Take a picture,” Lily says, not opening her eyes. “It’ll last longer.”

She says it sarcastically, but if my phone wasn’t dead, that’s exactly what I’d do.

“Hopeless,” I say, walking to the truck and throwing my bag in the back beside her.

The front of my legs brush against hers, and her eyes flash open.

Heat burns behind her irises as she watches me.

I’m caught in a trap that sucks all the oxygen out of the air.

But why does a man need air when he has Lily?

“I see you sharpened your tongue during the game.”

Her lips pull up into a slow smile, sending off warnings, but I’ve always been one to run headfirst into danger.

“Sharp enough to cut a man,” she says, and I must be insane because I like the way she makes me bleed.

Lily never holds back, and that’s part of what I like about her. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and put me in my place when I need it.

“Of that I have no doubt, hopeless.” Tapping the side of her knee, I motion for her to scoot over and climb up to sit on the truck with her. Our arms are still touching, but at least I can breathe.

“So, that game didn’t go well.”

A huff of laughter is pulled from my chest. She really doesn’t pull her punches.

“No, it did not.”

“Why?”

“Because I have no idea what I’m doing.”

In anything.

My son. Coaching. Lily. I’m just winging it all, juggling balls when I don’t know how.

Lily shifts. I can feel her eyes on the side of my face, but I don’t turn to look at her.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what everyone is doing, Theo. No one actually has any idea what they’re doing.”

She faces forward again, and we sit there in silence, letting the sound of the summer fill it for us.

A screeching noise interrupts it, nearly making my ears bleed. A distant thump follows it, and then a slam of a car door.

Turning, I see Morgan standing over his car, cursing. The screeching was a telltale of a belt, and I’m guessing the thump was when it flew off the pulley.

Hopping off the tailgate, I stick my hand out to help Lily down, and she takes it.

“I’m going to go help the kid. Thank you for coming today and doing this,” I say, letting go of her hand and pointing between us. “All of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Theo. We’re both benefiting.”

I press my lips together, but I want to argue. It feels like I’m getting more out of it than she is.

Lily lifts her hand and pats my chest, right over my heart, and I hope she can’t feel how hard it’s beating.

“I’ll see you around,” she says, finally dropping her hand.

I watch her until she gets in her car and drives away, and then I walk over to Morgan.

There’s a serpentine belt lying on the ground, and Morgan has his back leaned against the car, his head hung down. Defeat hangs over him like a blanket.

I know that feeling all too well.

“Hey,” I say, calling his attention to me.

His head snaps up, and the defeat turns into hatred.

“What?” He demands.

I put my hands up to show him I’m not here to fight. “Do you need a ride?”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not leaving you here. I’ll stay until someone shows up.”

“Look, man,” he says, shoving off his car. His whole body vibrates with tension. “Just leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”

Looking at him is like looking in a mirror when I was his age. Anger that runs deep. The weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders. A future that isn’t clear. A parent who thrives on trouble.

No one stepped up to help me at that age—and, if I’m honest, I probably wouldn’t have let them—but I wished someone had tried.

“Maybe you don’t need my help, but I think I’ll stay anyway. Just in case.”

“You don’t get it,” he growls. “No one’s coming.” The anger bleeds out of him like a plug being pulled. He sinks back against his car and refuses to look at me, whispering, “No one’s coming.”

Walking closer, I spin to lean on the car next to him. “I came, Morgan. Let me take you home.”

He glances at his watch, and worry fills his eyes. “Fine.”

I can see how much it cost him to agree, so I don’t say anything as I shove off his car and walk over to my truck, letting him follow at his pace.

I’m in my truck and watching out the rear view mirror before he ever decides to move, and even then, it’s just to kick his tire before opening his driver’s side door and grabbing his bag.

I’m not surprised that his dad isn’t here, but I still hate it for his kid.

With his bag in hand, Morgan walks my way, yanking open the passenger side door with force.

He doesn’t look at me as he throws his bag inside and climbs in, and I don’t say anything as I put the truck in reverse and start to drive, with Morgan giving one-word directions as we head toward the outskirts of town.

We are almost to the county line before Morgan points to a trailer setting right off the highway. I’d hardly consider it livable. There are holes in the roof that definitely leak. One window is covered in cardboard, and trash litters the long driveway.

Morgan squirms in his seat as I take it in, embarrassment heating his cheeks. Then, suddenly, he goes still as his eyes scan the empty driveway.

“Stop the truck,” he demands.

We are still only halfway up, so I shake my head. “I’ll drive you the rest of the way up.”

“STOP THE TRUCK,” he yells, opening the door before I stop and jumping out.

I slam on my breaks and curse, jumping out and following him when the truck is in park.

“Morgan,” I call after him, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps running—harder than I’ve ever seen him run at practice.

I catch up to him right as he runs up the steps. The stairs are rotting, and I slow down, picking my way around the boards as he bursts through the front door.

“Mia,” he screams, “Where are you? ”

Entering the house, I weave around a few holes in the floor and follow him to where he disappeared into a bedroom at the back of the trailer.

My steps come up short when I see him squatting in front of a little girl who is sitting on a mattress on the floor with tears streaming down her face.

She can’t be more than four or five. Her hair is a mess of knots and tangles, and her eyes are the same dark green as Morgan’s. She could be his twin.

He whispers something in her ear, and her eyes dart up to where I’m standing, going wide when she sees me standing there.

She says something to Morgan while still staring at me, and he turns his head to look at me, too.

“You need to go.” From the look on his face, it’s clear he had been in too much of a panic to notice. I was following him, but I can’t go. Not now.

“I think we should talk outside for a minute,” I say, smiling at the little girl.

Something on my face must tell him I’m not leaving until we do because he sighs and kisses the little girl on the forehead before standing up and following me back outside.

He pulls the door shut behind him when we are standing on the porch.

Shoving my hands in my pocket, I lean against one of the sturdier posts.

“Is she yours?” I ask, hoping the answer is no but knowing anything could happen. Morgan is eighteen, meaning the girl would have been born when he would have been fourteen if she is his.

“No,” he growls, but he doesn’t expound.

“Then who is she?” I ask, holding his gaze long enough so he knows I won’t let this go.

Huffing, he drops his shoulders and finally gives in. “She’s my sister. ”

“How old is she?”

“Six.”

He throws his hands up when I furrow my brows and says, “I swear, man. She looks young for her age. Her mom did a lot of drugs or something when she was pregnant.”

“You don’t have the same mom?” I know I’m pushing the line with my questioning, but I can’t just walk away, not after seeing this.

“No.”

“Is yours around?”

“She’s dead.” The callousness of his voice stops my line of questioning.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “I’m not.”

Silence settles around us, and it’s deafening.

“You know I have to ask, Morgan,” I say, finally addressing the elephant in the room. “Why was she home alone? Where’s your dad?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, and I wonder if he will answer me or if I will have to bring Hayes in on this situation—but eventually, he does.

“I don’t know. We haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”

“He just left you guys at home? Alone?” Anger pulses through my veins, but I try to tap it down because I know the moment he sees me lose it, he’ll stop talking.

“I’m eighteen. I’m plenty old enough to stay home alone,” he says defensively.

I don’t try to argue that because he’s right, he is, but that little girl in there is not. When we pulled up, there was not an adult insight, but from the way Morgan reacted when he saw the empty driveway, there should’ve been.

“Who was supposed to be watching your sister while you were at the game, Morgan?” I ask .

Shame fills his eyes, and he pulls them away from me as a tear slides down his cheek.

“I swear I didn’t leave her alone, man,” he cries.

He crumbles, and I step forward, wrapping him in my arms as he falls apart.

“Hey,” I say, cupping my hand over the back of his head as his head falls to my shoulder. “I didn’t think that. I’m not accusing you. Okay?”

Morgan nods, but the tears continue to soak into my shirt. “I hired a babysitter. She was supposed to stay here until I got home, but my car wouldn’t work, and—and—” He hiccups between each word until he gets to the point where he can’t talk anymore through his sobs.

“Hey, she’s okay,” I say, knowing that what he needs more than anything right now is comfort. Not a lecture. “Let’s go back in there with her so you can see that. And we’ll figure out where to go from there.”