Page 20 of Stay (Stay #1)

He studies me carefully before understanding dawns. “Is he going to be mad that we’re here?”

By the expression on his face, he already knows the answer.

My silence only reconfirms it.

I probably should have mentioned that my family and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms. Then he could have made his own choice about whether to get involved in this. I’d really thought we could sneak in and out under the radar while my dad and mom were at work.

Cole has no idea what kind of minefield he’s walked into. As I stand there, listening to Dad stomp across the wood flooring above us, I realize there isn’t time to explain it to him. It’s doubtful I could find the words even if there was.

“Cassidy,” he says carefully, “everything will be fine. Let’s go upstairs. ”

I want to laugh.

No…not laugh.

I want to run and hide. My dad is the last person I want to face.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a choice in the matter.

Cole reaches out and grabs my fingers before securing them firmly in his hand. My gaze locks on his. “You’re not alone. I’m here with you.”

“Cassidy?”

I flinch as my dad’s deep voice cuts through the air.

It takes effort to clear my throat and find my voice. “I-I’m in the basement.” There’s no denying the thin waver that snakes its way through my words.

My father doesn’t respond as we make our way up the stairs to the kitchen where we find him leaning stiffly against the granite counter, his thickly-muscled arms crossed over his chest.

His eyes narrow on Cole and the hockey bag slung over his shoulder. After a long silent moment, his attention shifts to me. There is no warmth within his eyes as they lock on mine.

From the time I was a small child, people have commented on how much I resemble my dad.

We have the same blue eyes and jet-black hair.

But that’s where the physical similarities end, because my dad is a hulking man who stands over six feet tall.

He’s solid. Built for defense. I’m petite like my mother. More finely-boned. Built for speed.

Without any pleasantries, Dad starts in on me just like I feared he would. The last thing I need is for Cole to have a front row seat to our family dysfunction. And I certainly don’t want him to hear my father’s version of what transpired last year. The picture he’ll paint will undoubtedly be ugly.

“The neighbors called to let me know someone was breaking into the house. You’re damn lucky they contacted me first instead of the police.”

It’s doubtful this situation will turn out to be a blessing for me. Being picked up for a little B&E would be preferable to the confrontation my dad is set on having. Although, I’m smart enough to keep those thoughts to myself.

“We didn’t break in,” I murmur, hoping he won’t lose his shit and start foaming at the mouth.

“Why didn’t you call and let us know you’d be stopping by? Why slink in here when you know perfectly well that we’d be at work?”

I’m fairly certain the answer to that question is painfully obvious to all three of us.

Instead of admitting truth, I say, “This was the only time we had between classes, and it was a spur of the moment decision.” It’s doubtful that I’m fooling anyone.

Including Cole.

Having him witness this exchange makes me want to cringe.

Dad’s hard gaze shifts before silently scrutinizing Cole. My father doesn’t say a word as his attention jerks back to mine.

He shakes his head as if I’ve managed to disappoint him all over again. “I thought you would have learned your lesson after last year, Cassidy. It’s obvious that you haven’t.”

I turn to Cole before Dad can get any more wound up and murmur, “Could you wait for me in the car?”

I want him out of this house and away from my father. This is humiliating enough without him witnessing anything more.

Cole’s concerned gaze bounces between my father and me. “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

Even though I normally find Cole’s presence comforting, I shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” I silently plead for him not to argue. “All right?”

Tension fills every line of his face as he jerks his head into a tight nod before hesitantly backing out of the large, sun-filled kitchen. My dad and I remain silent until we hear the front door close quietly behind him.

His furious gaze never relinquishes mine. Any moment, I’ll squirm like a six-year-old caught making mischief.

My father has always been blunt, and he cuts right to the heart of the matter as he stabs a finger at me. “That’s no longer your equipment to take. You forfeited it when you got kicked off the team and flunked out of college.”

The razor-sharp comments leave me wincing, but I keep my face an emotionless mask.

I’ll be damned if he sees how much his words and attitude are still able to inflict damage.

Sometimes it’s difficult to believe we were ever close.

I’m his eldest and the only daughter who followed him into hockey.

He used to be so proud of me and my accomplishments.

Both on and off the ice.

Miranda and Lexie had refused from the beginning to take skating lessons.

He didn’t bother trying to get them to play hockey.

I, on the other hand, had loved it from the very first lesson.

Sometimes I wonder if the reason I’d loved it so much was because we were the only two who shared it.

Hockey was a bond that neither my mom nor my sisters could penetrate.

Seven o’clock practices on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Weekend tournaments spent out-of-town. College camps and recruiting trips. And then we’d hit a few classic car shows. It was always the two of us.

Me and my dad.

Last year ripped our relationship to shreds.

And now, we were nothing more than strangers. Actually, we were much worse than strangers because his anger and disgust were palpable and cut me to the quick.

My shoulders collapse. “Do you want the equipment back?”

“No, just take it.” He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his pants before walking over to the picture window overlooking the tree line at the back of the yard. There’s a thick layer of vibrantly-colored leaves carpeting the ground.

“Who’s the guy?” There is so much accusation riddled throughout the barked-out question. Without glancing at me, he shakes his head in disapproval. “Guess I should have known better than to expect you to pull your shit together.”

My chest grows tight as I force out a response. “It isn’t like that, Dad. Cole is just a friend. ”

Lie.

Cole is way more than a friend.

He wheels around, his furious gaze searing mine.

“You fail out again and you’re on your own.

We won’t give you any more money, and neither will your grandparents.

There comes a time when you have to grow up and make adult decisions, and that time is now, Cassidy.

” He drags a hand through his thick black hair.

“I don’t understand where we went so wrong with you, I really don’t. ”

Why can’t he see that I made a mistake?

All right, a lot of them.

But still…that doesn’t mean they raised me wrong, or I can’t learn and grow from the experience and somehow, eventually, come out better because of it.

He refuses to consider that possibility.

He doesn’t want to see that I’m trying to undo the damage I inflicted on all of us.

His anger and disgust hurt more than I want to admit.

“I’m not going to fail out,” I whisper.

There’s no way I’ll allow that to happen again.

He scrubs a hand over his face as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Yeah, well, you’ll excuse me if I have a difficult time believing anything that comes out of your mouth.”

I chew my lower lip. It’s the physical discomfort that stops me from focusing on the pain he’s so intent on inflicting.

“It’s not like that. I’m doing really well.

” Why am I bothering to explain? He doesn’t want to hear me.

But I can’t seem to stop myself. “And I’m tutoring other students at the tutoring center to make extra cash.

” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that Dr. Thompson thinks I’m improving, but he doesn’t know I’ve been seeing a shrink, and I’m not about to let that particular cat out of the bag.

It would only fan the flames of his fury.

“I guess we’ll see what your grades look like in December,” he grunts.

Everything inside me deflates. I can’t believe how poorly this interaction has gone. “Yeah, I guess so.” I just want to get the hell out of here. Neither of us seem ready for a civil conversation.

Maybe we never will be .

“Okay. Well…” I can’t do this anymore. I just… can’t.

My chest has tightened with the thick tendrils of anxiety weaving their way around it. Slowly, I inch my way toward the front door. Toward Cole and the Mustang parked out front. Toward the freedom of school, and away from the claustrophobia attempting to suffocate the life out of me.

Just as I slink into the hallway, he fires off another question.

“Why did you want your hockey gear? Are you playing again?” His thick brows are knit tightly together as if he can’t believe I would have the audacity to step foot on the ice again.

I shake my head, all the while continuing to put more distance between us. “Cole plays for the Western Timber Wolves, and sometimes we skate together. I wanted to use my own equipment. It’s been a while…” My voice trails off awkwardly.

He makes a noncommittal sound from deep in his throat. “Hmmm.”

Thankfully, I’ve become pleasantly numb to his disapproval.

I point to the front door. “Cole’s waiting, and I need to get back to school.”

“Yeah, fine.” He adds just the right amount of derision to make me cringe. “Thanks for stopping by.”

There’s nothing I can say, since we both know this wasn’t a visit. I did exactly what he accused me of earlier. I crept into the house when I’d thought no one would be around. And I’d been caught red-handed.

I should have realized it wouldn’t go smoothly.

“Okay.” With that last mumbled word, I race from the house as if I’m fleeing the scene of a heinous crime. The front door slams shut behind me as I barrel down the drive, hurtling myself into the Mustang idling alongside the curb.

The moment I sink onto the front seat, I inhale a lungful of air before forcing it out again as Cole pulls away from the house that is no longer my home.

A reluctant glance over my shoulder shows Dad on the front porch, his hands hanging limply at his sides as he watches us drive away.

Once we round the corner, I swivel around before leaning back and closing my eyes.

That was so much worse than I could have imagined.

I’m so lost in the turmoil of my own thoughts that I jump at the sound of his soft voice.

“Are you okay?”

My eyelids snap open as I stare sightlessly out the front windshield. I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. Embarrassment bubbles up inside me like a geyser, until I want to sink through the leather seat.

“I’m fine.”

But I’m not.

I’m so far from fine that it’s not even funny. Now that I’m safely away from the situation, a fine tremble racks my body. Cole’s fingers settle over my hand before clasping it. Only then do I force my gaze to meet his.

Questions, a million of them, swim around in his concerned depths.

He deserves the answers, but I can’t bring myself to talk about it. I don’t want his opinion of me to change. He knows, well…he’s getting to know the girl I am now. I don’t want him knowing anything about the girl I once was.

“That was certainly awkward,” he says, pulling onto the highway and leaving behind the small city where I grew up in the rearview mirror.

A strangled laugh fizzes up inside me.

I have no idea why the comment strikes me as funny. It’s either laugh or cry at this point, and I refuse to shed one more tear over last year.

“I’m really sorry about that.”

When it becomes obvious that I won’t be saying anything more, he clears his throat and glances at me. There’s understanding within his gaze, but there’s also a desire to figure out what I’m keeping from him .

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” His words are light, almost casually spoken, as if he knows how far he can push me.

There are a hundred different ways I could answer that question.

But…

“I’m sorry, I can’t right now.”

As I glance at our entwined fingers, Dr. Thompson’s comments roll unwantedly through my head. Everything my father hurtled at me unwittingly echoes them.

Maybe they’re right.

Maybe, in order to save myself, I need to pull back from Cole.

I need to show my family that I’m serious about getting my life back on track. And this year—this semester—is my chance to prove that what happened last year was a fluke. A series of poorly made decisions strung together into one giant clusterfuck.

As my gaze slides to Cole, my heart spasms, knowing it won’t be the only thing I end up regretting.