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“I’ll see you, Sanders.” He leaves, shutting the light off and closing the door. Just when I think he’s gone, I hear glass breaking. Why is he breaking the windows? Did he lock himself out? Is he coming back?
I listen, but don’t hear anything. No door opening. No footsteps. Just silence.
He left. He left me here to die. I’m going to bleed to death in this garage. I’ll be dead before someone finds me.
I should’ve killed him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t make myself do it. What was stopping me? My dad would’ve killed him without even giving it a thought. He tried to kill my mom. Tried to kill Dean. So why couldn’t I kill Troy?
Dean always said we aren’t our father. That his DNA doesn’t determine who we are or who we become. But today, I wish that wasn’t true. Because if I was like my dad, Troy would be the one lying here with blood pouring out of him. He’d be the one who’s about to die. But instead, it’s me.
28
DEAN
“What a game,”Danny says, a huge grin on his face as he waits for me at my locker. “I can’t believe we won.”
“I knew we would.” I throw a hoodie on over my t-shirt. “I could tell from the moment we got on the field. Something just felt right.”
“I wonder if we can keep it going.”
“I think we will. As long as I’m playing, we’re gonna win.”
“Hey! Today was one of my best games. Give me some credit here.”
I smile at him. “I’m just joking. It took all of us to get a win today. That was a tough team.” I shut my locker. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Too bad Chelsea wasn’t at the game,” Danny says as we leave the locker room. “The one time I don’t screw up and she wasn’t here to see it.”
“Why do you care? You’re not dating her anymore.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t care. I just miss her. I miss the four of us getting together after games.”
“I know.” I open the door for him. “Sorry it didn’t work out with you two.”
We go out to the parking lot.
“Is she feeling any better?” he asks.
“Not really. Brook took her some soup and cold medicine last night so that should help. I’m sure she’ll feel better by tomorrow.” I stop at my car. “You’re still coming over, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll drop my stuff off at home and head over there. You want me to bring anything?”
“Why do you always ask that? You know the answer is always no.”
“It’s my mom’s rule. She said you always ask if you can bring something when someone invites you over.”
“I miss your mom. And her cooking.”
“You could come home with me for Thanksgiving.”
“Already got plans.” My phone rings as I open the car door. I don’t recognize the number but it’s from Chicago. “Hello?”
“Is this Dean Sanders?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“I’m a nurse at the hospital where your brother was taken. I’m calling to—”
“Wait! Jake’s in the hospital? Is he okay?”
