After the Game

Mom shook her head and dropped her hands from her hips, but there was a softness in her eyes. “Honestly, Riley, when are you going to let all this pain and bitterness go? Yes, you were hurt in the worst possible way, and it breaks my heart to think about it. But you were given a beautiful gift from it all. You know that. You’re a wonderful mom and you are so strong. But you are holding on to this pain and keeping others out. That’s not a good example for Bryony. You need a friend, sweetheart. It’s time to let someone in, and from all I know of Brady Higgens, he’s a really good kid.”

Well, crap. That was low. Bringing Bryony into it. I made sure never to let her ears hear about the past and what I went through. I wanted her safe from all that. I did everything I could to make her life happy and complete.

“That’s not fair. Bryony doesn’t know any of this.”

Mom shrugged. “Maybe not, but she sees your body language. She will one day realize that you’re carrying bitterness and hurt. And that you build walls around yourself. She’ll learn to do the same.”

That was what broke me. If she was right, and my mother was rarely wrong, I couldn’t live with myself. I was in self-preserve mode. It wasn’t an easy life, but after what I’d been through, it was the only way I could deal. I didn’t trust easily. Or at all. But that didn’t mean I wanted Bryony to live like me.

“But why Brady? How does my telling him anything change that? He’s not going to become my buddy. He’s got a football team to worry about, and a college scholarship. My talking to him does nothing.”

But ease his guilt, I finished in my head. Which I still thought was unfair. I wanted him to feel guilty. He should.

“You don’t know that. Give him a chance,” my mother replied.

I’d go listen to him simply because if I didn’t, my mother wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. Possibly months. I didn’t want to hear Brady Higgens’s name again after tonight. He might not be at the top of the list of the people I hated, but he was on the list.

“Fine,” I sighed in defeat and turned to go back to the living room, hoping Brady had just left.

He hadn’t.

There he stood with his hands in his jeans pockets, looking my way. Our eyes locked, and I saw uncertainty there. He still wasn’t sure if he believed me. I didn’t care if he did. I didn’t care if anyone did. That was all history.

“We can talk, but not here. I don’t want Bryony waking up and hearing anything.”

He nodded. “Understood. Want to take a drive?”

No. I wanted to go soak in a bath and forget he had come over.

Continue On with Your Crown of Sainthood

CHAPTER 8

BRADY

Riley looked like she was preparing to walk through a fire. She did not want to be out here with me, and she definitely didn’t want to be getting in my truck. I’d heard most of their conversation through the thin walls. Not that I was trying to, but Riley was talking loud, and she had been pissed.

The way she had talked made me believe her even more. That had been as convincing as it got. She had moved on and wanted to put this behind her. The fact that her mother said she needed a friend made my chest hurt. I’d never been without a friend. But Riley had lived the past two years without one.

I went to open her door for her, and she jerked around and glared at me. “I can open it.”

Okay, then. Apparently my mother was wrong. Opening car doors for females didn’t make them melt. At least not all of them. It pissed this one off.

She climbed inside and slammed the door before I even got to the driver’s side. Once I was inside she turned her head to look at me. “Let’s get this straight. I’m doing this to shut my mother up. You do not deserve this. I shouldn’t have to sit through it. But I am. If I don’t, my mom will nag me about it for weeks. I don’t have the time to listen to that. So get to the point. We can do it sitting right here. This shouldn’t be a long conversation.”

I thought about ignoring that and starting my truck, but I decided against it. Being seen driving around with Riley in my truck would lead to questions I didn’t want to answer. People seeing my truck in their driveway was easier to explain. I could say my mom sent me over with food for the family since they’re having a tough time with her grandmamma. That was believable.

Did that make me sound like a wuss? Yes, it did, but one thing at a time. I was here and that was something.

“I was still fourteen when all of this happened. Which made me young and stupid. I believed Rhett because he was my friend’s older brother, and the rest of the town was so outraged I figured they must be right. I didn’t question it. And . . . maybe I should have.”

She let out a short, hard laugh. “Maybe you should have.” She repeated my words and laughed again. “I seriously don’t have time for this,” she said as she reached for her door handle.

“Wait. Please. Just . . . give me a minute. I’m trying to say this right.”

Sighing, she dropped her hand from the handle. I had a small window of opportunity here. She was no longer interested in getting people to believe her. That much was obvious.

“Let me ask you something, Brady. Why are you having a change of heart? Because you saw Bryony? Because wouldn’t the girl you all assumed I was when I left town have slept with any guy from here to Arkansas to get knocked up?”

She was giving me an opening. I took it. “No. Because seeing you with her made me question everything. You’re a good mom. Bryony loves you. You’re taking care of your grandmother, homeschooling to get your diploma, and you could have given her up for adoption or even aborted her, but you didn’t. All those things say a lot about your character. They don’t say you’re a lying, careless manipulator.”

There. I’d said everything I was thinking.

She didn’t reply right away. I was preparing myself for some smart comment, but it didn’t come. Instead she stared out the window toward her house. I waited for her to either try and leave again or say something.

“I’ve told the story so many times I’m sick of telling it. No one believed me but my parents and the police. And then the Lawtons got in the officer’s ear, and he turned on me too. I was young and terrified of sex. Why would I lie about it? That’s what I never understood,” she said before turning to look back at me.

“You know the story, Brady. You heard it two years ago like everyone else. It hasn’t changed. But I have. I’m not naïve anymore. I grew up.”

I believed her. Every word. The pain in her eyes was clear even with nothing but the streetlight illuminating her face. The guilt inside me grew, and I wanted to hug her or apologize or do something, but she wouldn’t accept it.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said.

She gave me a small half smile that tilted up one corner of her mouth. “Yeah, well, you’re the only one.”

And she was right. I was the only one. The others would believe Rhett forever. It made me sick to think about how power and popularity could ruin others’ lives.

“If I could convince them, I would,” I told her honestly.

She laughed again and shook her head. “If anyone else said that, I wouldn’t believe them. But you’ve always been the hero. Continue on with your crown of sainthood and go about your life. I made it through hell and was rewarded with that little girl sleeping in there. She’s all I need.”

When she reached for the door this time, I didn’t ask her to stop. My question had been answered. My guilt wasn’t relieved, and I knew it never would be. Just like she would never forget the pain this town put her through.

“If you ever need a friend, I’m here,” I told her as she stepped out of the truck.

She didn’t laugh this time, but I could see a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Sure you are, Brady. But I’m not a charity case. I’m strong, and I don’t need anyone.”

As she walked back to the house, I watched until she was safely inside before I started my truck. Tonight I hadn’t made myself feel better, and I realized that was exactly why I had come here to begin with. I had wanted to ease my mind.