Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“This door remains open at all times,” my dad barked. Not necessarily mean. That was the weird thing, he wasn’t regularly mean to me even though I fully understood the beating waiting for me if I strayed off course.
My dad’s entire focus was the constant surveillance of me and drinking more than was healthy. Which was the reason for keeping me handcuffed to whatever furniture I chose to stay in. Between the handcuffs and the newly installed security system, when he passed out, I was safely stuck inside.
During the school week, I trained six hours a day. Two hours in the morning and four after school. More on the weekends. He kept me busy every minute of the day. Since beer was the only alcohol permissible for the coaches while on the field, the cocktails continued once he got home. He and his girlfriend drank freely while they stumbled their way through reading the bible to me every night. My demons be damned.
The fun thing we were doing together now was watching free straight porn. He was so gross.
“Yes, sir. I forgot.” Based on his expression, my dad clearly didn’t believe him.
“Come on. You’re done for today.”
“I’ll see you Monday,” Scott said, then tried his best to divert my father’s attention. “Pretty sure the Titans are going all the way this year.”
“Are you nuts?”
It was then I saw the man following my father into my room. Scott’s save had failed. I got an angry finger pointed at me. “I’m gettin’ tired of the mopin’. Show me you’re gettin’ better, or we’ll have to move to other options. You aren’t gonna like ’em. This pastor’s gonna talk to you and you’re gonna respond. You hear me?”
Scott had to have heard, but I don’t care. A set of blue eyes that remained just below my closed lids was my only happiness. I turned to stare back outside the window, knowing all he really cared about was this season’s playoff games. If I performed, he wouldn’t send me off somewhere to deteriorate.
Nine Months Later, the Fourth of July
Southlake, Texas
I scrolled through the countless unreturned text messages, wishing for a sign from Beau.
Today held meaning. My birthday and the day I first made love to my guy. I missed him so much.
“Come on, douche,” Chandler said as he pushed open my bedroom door uninvited. “Get your ass moving and bore everyone downstairs while you blow out the candles.”
He wasn’t wrong about the energy surrounding me these days. It had been a full year since I last spoke to Beau and all I seemed able to do was wait for his reply to any of the dozens and dozens of texts I sent.
Like I lectured myself many times, I wasn’t a quitter. I knew what I wanted and had to stay the course. Strength built quickly. I had to be steady for when I saw my love again.
With a practiced move, I flipped open my phone and quickly typed a message—an anniversary text, or at least I liked to believe we committed to a lifetime together one year ago today. “Today’s meaning is more special to me than my birthday. Last year was the best time of my life. I miss you. I’ll be here. BTW, my father hasn’t had any luck in your case. He’s still trying. I’m waiting. Take your time.”
I reread my words, ensuring I wrote with no acronyms. He deserved complete sentences. After hitting send, I waited a second or two before closing the phone to let the text go through.
“Buddy, you need to move on,” Chandler said, placing a hand on my shoulder, staring me directly in the eyes. Unlike my family, he never pushed me past my limits until right now. “If it’s meant to be, then let it happen. You can’t stop living your life. He wouldn’t want that.”
I was certain about that. The final message Beau sent encouraged me to forget him. An impossible feat that gutted me at the very idea. I deleted it from my phone. He’d come to me. He had to. I saw no other option.
I nodded to Chandler in understanding, fully aware I controlled my world. If nothing else, my focused insistence had to bring Beau back to me.
July 5, One Year Later
Mobile, Alabama
I was nothing short of pissed off as I raced up the stairs at lightning speed to grab my overnight bag from my bedroom. It had been nearly two years since I’d been allowed to spend unsupervised time with my mom, and my stupid old man purposefully kept me out on the football field, letting her wait.
He was such a fucking dick. Since she’d moved back to Mobile, both of us had bent over backward, following every one of his ridiculous rules, and still he was such a giant motherfucker all the time.