Page 18 of Break

Play nice, I remind myself before speaking. “They sure do.”

“Oh, and I’m not sure if I can say this, but I believe their old coach is coming. He’s your dad, right?” Coach says, chilling me to the core and nearly sending me into another panic attack.

Nine

Itry to remind myself how to get through panic attacks, but the ringing in my ears, the fact that no breath seems to give me oxygen, and my own shaking prove I’m not doing well at all. Sweat dews on my cold forehead, and I have to sit down as my vision starts to narrow.

“Hope?” Coach Carpenter asks. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I, um… I should…” I can’t even make a sentence happen.

“Hey.” Coach lifts my legs. “Lie back. If you’re going to pass out, let’s make sure you’re safe, Hope.”

After a moment, I manage to calm myself down enough to function. I can’t stop the hurt and fear rippling through me at the thought of my dad coming here. Which means that the guys told my dad where I am. I’ve hidden so well.

Seven years of work, all for what? To end up in the same fucking situation? How can I just let all that information just roll off my back? I feel like absolute shit. I can’t focus, I can’t think straight. My mind just keeps swirling. After everything I’ve done… I’ve gone nowhere. I’ve achieved nothing.

“When’s the last time you took a day off?” Coach Carpenter asks.

I shrug. Time doesn’t mean anything. That’s obvious, more obvious now than ever. My whole world is collapsing in on itself.I’mcollapsing in on myself.

“Are you able to go home, Hope?” Coach says, trying to get me to focus on him. “Can you drive?”

“Y–yeah,” I finally get out.

He helps me up, makes sure I can stand and walk, then nods. “Go home. Get some rest and Gatorade. I know you want to be here, but take some time to rest, okay?”

I nod and without looking back, I go home. The whole way is a blur, and before I realize it, I’m back at my apartment feeling more like a zombie than a person. I lock my door and double-check it’s truly closed before I get changed into an oversized T-shirt and sweats. I let myself fall into my bed and wrap myself up in my blanket but can’t sleep.

It’s taking everything in me not to cry. I don’t want to cry over thisagain.

I’ve spent too much time crying because of my father, because of the three bullies I thought I escaped. I don’t want to give them that kind of power. If I were the head coach, I could put them in their place. If I were a police officer, I could take care of all of them, but I’m just a physical therapist.

Closing my eyes, I snuggle deeper into my bed.

I’m safe here. I’m safe. I’m secure. I don’t move backward. I’m safe. I’m secure. I’m safe.

At some point in the mantra, I fall asleep. I wake up to my stomach growling but don’t feel like leaving my bed. My bed is safe. The apartment building isn’t. Work isn’t. All I have left is my own home.

My eyes water and I shake my head slowly. I try to use my pillow and blanket to make myself feel better, to wrap myself up until I can’t feel anything but comfort, but I end up watching the fading light of the sunset coming in through my window as it moves across my wall.

I haven’t felt this frozen in years and I have no idea how to get back the power and happiness I had just days ago.

Even with the guys from the team nearly close enough to be considered friends, I feel utterly alone. None of them know my past, and it’s not like I want to relive the experience by telling someone. I don’t know if any of them would believe me. I don’t know if any of them would care.

I’m afraid, alone, and in bed with only myself to rely on. Nothing has changed since I was eighteen… nineteen… twenty.

My eyes close and I shake my head. This will be different. I know the law now. I can avoid my father. I have my own money, my own resources… It’s different.

As much as I say it, I’m not sure I believe it. So I lie here, ignoring the fact that my phone is off and my stomach is cramping thanks to hunger.

A knock echoes on my door, and I blink a few times. Only the super has knocked, or a lost neighbor, because I always put my P.O. box down as my address unless I’m ordering from Amazon.

I pull myself out of bed, still wrapped in my blanket, and slowly open the door, holding it tightly while I wish I had a peephole.

Knox, Dimitri, and Jaxon stand there. I narrow my eyes and push harder on my door until I realize Knox has his foot there.

Shit. If they want in, they’re going to get in. I have too many emotions and my voice comes out sharp and prickly. “What do you want?”

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