Page 35 of Redemption
The twitch in his jaw is the only answer I need. “That’s what I thought. You used Langston as your excuse to walk away from football the first time—I won’t be your excuse this time. So, despite whatever decision they make about my job, you will not walk away again—or are you a coward?” I ask, challenging him as I shove my finger into his chest.
His body doesn’t move, but he drops his eyes to where my finger is pressed into the steel of his muscle and then slowly drags them back up to meet mine.
Challenge and anger swirl in the storm of his gaze, but I don’t look away—not until I’m sure my point has hit home. And when I know it has, I remove my finger, pat his chest, and spin back around, walking away once again.
A frustrated growl ripples out from behind me, and I must be insane because the frustration in that sound causes a slow smileto spread across my lips. This is the problem. We find too much joy in pushing each other’s buttons. Hayes and I are two sides of the same coin. It’s impossible to escape one another, but in the end, we are different.
“Why can’t it be both?” Hayes asks, closing in and crowding me so close that I can feel the heat from his body radiating off my back. “Why can’t it be that I am looking out for you, and I’m scared of going back to a sport that tookeverythingfrom me.”
The way he says everything nearly rips my heart in two because I know he’s not just talking about losing Langston—he’s talking about losing me, too. But we made our choice—hemade his choice. It wasn’t me, and there is no escaping the consequences.
So, instead of answering him, I shove through the door into the open air outside and nearly run over someone.
Hayes’s hands are on my shoulders, catching me from falling as I apologize to whoever I nearly knocked over.
When I look up, a teenage boy is standing in front of me, and for a minute, with the way anger burns in his eyes so deep that it’s likely to incinerate anything in its path, all I can see is Langston standing in front of me again. It’s not that they look alike—they aren’t similar at all in that aspect. Where the kid in front of me has dark hair, my brother’s was a blonde so light it was almost white. No, it’s not the physical appearance but rather the way his shoulders slump like a weight well beyond his years is pulling him down.
My stomach falls, and the blood in my veins begins to pump harder as my heart rate kicks up.
He’s not Langston, MJ. He’s not Langston.
But I can’t unsee it—my brother standing in front of me in the same school, never telling anyone about the struggles he was experiencing.
The kid lets out a curse that is not fit even for the mouth of an adult before he shoves his hands behind his back, a guilty expression written all over his face.
He looks to be at least a junior. He’s taller and more filled out than a freshman. His shaggy hair hangs down low on his forehead, and when he turns to look at me, he shakes it so it falls out of his face.
But I’m too lost in my memories to say anything or even to understand that maybe I should question what he’s hiding behind his back.
Hayes must not be reliving the same memories I am, though, because he steps around me, eyes narrowed at the kid’s arms tucked behind his back, all while I’m frozen, too numb to move.
“What’s your name?” Hayes asks, his voice a deep rumble through the muggy air.
The boy’s nose scrunches up in a sneer as he sizes Hayes up, then looks around him as if searching for an escape.
“None of your business.”
“Fine,” Hayes shrugs, “Then I guess I can walk you to the principal, who’s sitting right through that door, and you can explain to her why you are on school property and what you’re hiding behind your back.”
Even as his skin loses some of its color, the boy never stops scowling at Hayes.
“Tanner,” he spits out. “My name’s Tanner.”
“Well, Tanner. How about you hand over that cigarette hidden behind your back and the lighter in your pocket, and we’ll call it square.” Hayes says, keeping his voice calm as he assesses the situation. I can see why he chose to become an officer. Dominance radiates off of him, even when he slips his hands into his pockets and takes a more casual stance.
My eyes flick to Hayes in surprise. I knew the kid had something he didn’t want us to see, but I’m surprised by thedetails that Hayes was able to take in with a split-second notice—no way I would have known what he was hiding.
“Yeah, right,” Tanner says, that scowl turning into deep hatred. “You’ll rat me out the first chance you get.”
Hayes doesn’t take his hands from his pocket as he says, “I won’t. Scout’s honor.”
The ridiculousness of that statement finally shakes me out of my stupor. Leaning forward, I whisper low enough so Tanner can’t hear me, “You weren’t even a Scout.”
Hayes’s responding scowl over his shoulder is answer enough.
Throwing my hands up, I take a dramatic step back as if to sayFine. You handle this your way.
He turns his attention back to Tanner, waiting for him to decide.
