Page 10 of Penance
“Maybe. But he’s loyal.”
I turn to face him. “That goodbye was for you too, you know.”
Hayes shrugs. “I know. I was ignoring it.”
I’m trying. I really am, but I’m tired, and my patience is running thin. “You have until the count of three before I throw you out myself.”
“I’m going. I’m going,” Hayes says, lifting his hands. “But first, I need to talk to you about something.”
The look in Hayes’s eyes sends a sense of foreboding skittering over my skin. Whatever he wants, it can’t mean anything good for me.
“You have two minutes, so talk quickly. If you aren’t gone in two minutes, I’ll physically remove you.”
Hayes’s smirk says he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t know me. I have limits. It may take me a while to reach them, but once I do, that’s it.
I look down at my watch, starting the timer, and Hayes’s mouth drops open.
“One minute forty-five seconds, Miller. Better start talking.”
Waving my finger back and forth, I mimic the ticking of a clock.
Hayes narrows his eyes, but when the timer reaches a minute thirty, he finally blurts out what he came for.
“I volunteered you to be head baseball coach for the school’s travel team this summer.”
“You what?” There’s danger in the timbre of my voice, but apparently, Hayes’s flight or fight is broken because he only takes a step back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“Tanner said you played in high school—that you were good enough to get a college scholarship. Seemed like an obvious solution to a problem. Plus, if you are coaching, I didn’t figure you could say no to this next part.”
My jaw ticks, and my hands fist beside my leg.
“What next part?” I ask Hayes between clenched teeth.
“The part where I tell you that your kid really wants to play baseball, but he’s too afraid to ask you. So he asked me if I would, and here we are.”
The man might as well have taken a sledgehammer to my chest. There’s a void inside me now where faint hope had been earlier this morning.
“Why didn’t Tanner ask me himself?”
Hayes shrugs like it’s no big deal that he’s standing in front of me, asking instead of my kid. “He’s afraid you’d say no.”
“And what do you think, Miller? You think I’ll say no?”
The man holds my gaze when he says, “I think you’ll do what’s best for your kid.”
My jaw tightens again, and I’m not sure how the bones haven’t shattered under the pressure. The timer pings on my watch, but Idon’t reach to shut it off. I keep my eyes on Hayes, letting the silence settle between us. To his credit, he doesn’t back down.
Outside, Campbell blows the car horn, dissipating some of the tension in the air.
“Time’s up,” I say, leaving no room for argument.
Thankfully, Hayes doesn’t argue. He just dips his head my way before stepping toward the door. Only he doesn’t walk through it. Hayes stops, placing his hand on the door frame and letting his head hang for a second before shoving off it and turning to face me again.
“Look,” he says, all traces of humor gone, “I know we aren’t friends—and whatever you decide with Tanner is ultimately your decision—but I think you should remember that the kid is seventeen. You have one more year before he makes decisions for himself. Ask yourself if this is the hill you want to die on.”
I have to physically bite my tongue not to respond. Hayes is trying to help, but I don’t want it.
“And–uh—Theo, keep us in the loop about that fire. We drove by and saw the damage last night. The community building is old, so it’s possible it was faulty wiring, but with the string of fires happening across town recently—I don’t know. My gut is saying it’s something more.”
