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I take in a long, deep inhale before I turn and face him. And tell him the truth. “I did it. And I’d do it again just to see him squirm for a second thinking his stupid state title and precious QB all went up in flames.”
Ryder breaks eye contact, his hands rub over his face before his sight is set back on me. “You’re almost out of here, Morgan. Just stay away from Dad. If not for yourself, do it for me. Please.”
Next year, with any luck, I won’t be in this house. But Ryder will be. He’ll have another school year left and be alone within these walls. With Dad. That thought had never bothered me before I watched Dad punch him. And now that I know our father has no problem hitting either of his offspring, it scares me to think of what could happen.
“And what about you?” Ryder doesn’t respond. Stepping to him, I tell him, “I’m not leaving this house until you do. So, either you’re coming with me next year or I’m staying.”
“You can’t stay here any longer than you have to.”
“Then the decision is made. You’re coming with me.”
“He’ll never allow.” Ryder shakes his head. “Because it won’t look good to his buddies if both his kids haul ass out of here.”
“I don’t give a fuck. It’s not up to him.”
“I appreciate your big sister protective instinct, but you’re gonna make it worse.” He lowers his voice. “You know, like by setting his yacht on fire.”
“Eh. He wasn’t even mad about the damn thing being roasted. Kind of disappointing in a way.”
“Oh my gosh.” Ryder steps back. “You’ve perfected the talent of pissing people off, Morgan, but for once, give it a rest. Please. At least with Dad.”
Yeah. I can’t agree to that. “Stop worrying about me. I’ve also perfected the talent of handling myself.”
“Then why are you trying to get away from me so fast?”
Damn it. “Because you’re a pain in the ass.”
I close the bathroom door before he can say anything else or ask me to derail my plans again. Because I’m not done.
3
CADE
I don’t know what’s worse, the burned coffee smell or the oil stench that’s mixed with it. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Only now, she’s taken a part of that away too. There are a few employees around getting their day started, and each of them are giving me a look. It’s obvious. They know. Or at least they think they know what happened. Either way, it’s hard to miss the charred yacht down the dock.
“Cade,” I hear Otis say my name and immediately stand out of the chair as he moves to the opposite side of his desk. “What are you doing here?” He glances at his watch. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
Yes. But there’s no way I could sit idle in a desk all day without seeing my boss first. “I wanted to talk to you. To explain.”
Otis holds his hands up, his face sullen. “No need. I know you wouldn’t do anything reckless.”
Wow. What a freaking relief. My legs feel weak as I drop into the chair, my hands covering my face as I let out a long exhale. “Thank you.”
“Cade.” I don’t like the tone I hear, and when I see his tight expression, all the relief I had vanishes. And his words confirm what I guessed. “Even with that said, I can’t keep you on board.”
“I need this job. Not just this job, I need this place.”
Otis gives me a sympathetic look. “I get it. I do.” He glances around as he says, “This ole place really is an oasis.” Once he looks back to me, he continues, “And it won’t be the same without you around. I’ll make sure the records show you left on good terms, but that’s about the best I can do.”
“That’s it? No trial? No explanation?” Even witches got a trial. Not that they were fair and balanced, no presumed innocence back then, but at least they had the opportunity (no matter how shallow) to defend themselves.
“Coach isn’t going to push the issue, but part of that arrangement was you no longer work here and focus one hundred percent on football.”
One hundred percent football.She did it. That was her goal, right? She doesn’t want to take football from me. She wants football to be the only thing I have left—something I don’t even want—so I’m as miserable as she is. But she won. She always does.
I stare at Otis in disbelief. Coach bargaining doesn’t surprise me. But it feels like Otis sold me out and handed my soul to the devil. And even so… I can’t blame him. This place is still his oasis. Not mine. “What about after football?” Will I still be in one piece by then? Not if Morgan King has any say-so I’m guessing.
“Just focus on the season and school. Then we’ll take it from there. But the record will show you resigned on good terms.”
