Page 87 of Whirlwind
Or that I’m more afraid of going back to Maine and facing my father than I am about living a life without my grandmother.
I’ve spent years protecting myself, keeping my peace. Once, not long after I moved here, I tried to explain that to her. She was sad I wasn’t coming home for the holidays. But Maine isn’t safe for me. Going back is terrifying.
More than anything, I wish Tyson and I were in a place where I could have him with me. If last night hadn’t happened, he’d have been my first call—because he was my safe space.
And now, he’s just one more thing I’m scared to face.
23
Tyson
My call went straight to voicemail. Even though I told her last night that I’d stick to her timeline, I was worried. So, I called Kit. Well, tried to, anyway. She obviously isn’t ready to talk to me. Not that I blame her.
I fucked up.
It’s not what she thinks, though, and I’m not giving up. Not fucking ever. Blowing up her phone won’t do any good. I need a better plan, and she, understandably, needs space from my dumb ass.
Last night, after I dropped her home, she looked so small in her yard, waiting for Nightmare. It was my fault. I did that to her. I propped up her fragile confidence at the beginning of the night, only to shatter it completely, hours later. Because I got caught up in my own head instead of telling her all the things I was thinking.
She may never forgive me. Not when she trusts so few people. Not when we were so new, still. Kit’s the type to cut her losses and move on. Who could blame her?
“Fuck,” I mutter, dumping my wallet and keys into my cubby.
“I feel you,” Cillian says from his spot next to mine. “If Isla had to leave for a death in the family, I’d be agonizing over it, too.”
“What?” I ask. “Who had a death in the family?”
“You didn’t hear?” he asks.
“Hear what?”
“Kit’s grandmother died,” he says, except, now, he sounds like maybe he wasn’t supposed to say anything. “Why don’t you know that?”
“Willa said Tyson and Kit got into a fight last night,” Zander says as he walks up to us. “She didn’t call him.”
“You fought? About what?”
“It wasn’t a fight,” I say, shaking my head. “Back up, her grandma died?”
“Yeah, man. Last night, I guess. Her dad called early this morning,” Zander says.
“She talked to her fucking father?”
“I guess,” Zan says. “It all happened quickly. She called Willa, and Damian got them on a flight first thing this morning.”
“To Maine?” Anger and worry swim in my gut. I don’t want her anywhere near her father, but especially not without me by her side to make sure he doesn’t hurt her. Again. I promised her he couldn’t do that. I promised myself I’d never let it happen.
“Yes,” Zander says.
“No,” I say. “Fuck, no. She can’t go there alone.” I sit on the bench, drop my head in my hands. What do I do? We have practice today, and a game tomorrow. How do I fulfill my responsibilities here, and to her?
“She’s not alone. Willa and Damian went, too.”
“Damian is with them?” I ask, and he nods. “Where’s Nightmare?”
“My house,” Cillian says. “Sadie is puppy sitting.”
“I bet she loves that,” Zander says, and Cillian rambles about how Sadie was so excited to have him at their house that she almost peed her pants because she didn’t want to take a break from playing to go to the bathroom.
