Line of Scrimmage (27 page)

“When we get back to my house,” he told her, “you can pack your stuff.”

“Are you throwing me out?” He heard the surprise in her voice.

“Whatever you want to call it. There’s just no need for you anymore. You have a life to get back to, remember?”

“What if I changed my mind?” she asked. “What if I want to stick around?”

“For what?” He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat, wishing this would turn out to be nothing more than a bad nightmare. “There’s no Jake Russell any more, Erin. Go find yourself a whole man who’s worth something. That’s not me.”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Maybe I think it is. Maybe—” She flipped her hand in the air. “I’m not a quitter, Jake, whatever the situation. You have to have figured that out by now, since I didn’t run screaming from your house. Not even on your worse days. That means I stick around for the bad as well as the good.”

“There’s plenty of bad to go around here.” Anguish surged through him.

“But there’s also plenty of good,” she insisted. “I know the future looks pretty miserable right now, but—”

“Miserable?” He went rigid with hostility. “You can’t begin to know what miserable is.”

She tried to help him when he had some difficulty getting out of the SUV, but he brushed her aside.

“Leave me alone.” He was weak and sweating and nauseous, and it wasn’t all from discomfort. “I don’t want your help. I’ll manage. Somehow. Go away.”

He ignored the flash of hurt on her face. Better for her to feel it now than later. How fucking long would it take for her to realize he was back to being worse than nothing?

Using the walls as support, he walked slowly and with difficulty down the hall to his bedroom. Thank God, she didn’t try to help him again. When he got to his bedroom, he limped inside and slammed the door in Erin’s face. Then he threw himself on the bed, and for the first time in years had an uncontrollable urge to cry.

* * * *

Erin tried to follow him into the bedroom, figuring she could at least help him get comfortable. Or maybe even just be there for him. If he wanted to yell, she’d let him yell at her. But getting the door slammed in her face was a message she heard loud and clear.

Letting out a breath, she headed into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. She sat at the kitchen table with it for a long time, trying to figure out what to do.

She knew she should call Ivy. Jake had forbidden his sister from coming to the doctor, but the woman would be on pins and needles waiting for the final prognosis. Maybe Ivy could tell her what on earth had happened to Jake that he thought without football he was nothing and nobody. That wasn’t just his ego talking. She’d heard real pain in his voice and seen it on his face.

She also had to make plans for herself. It would be impossible for her to stay here, yet she also knew there was no way she could leave. Waiting for Jake to get his cast off, she had tried to get the answer from Scott, only he was as clueless as she was. But he’d said one thing she couldn’t get out of her head.

“Whatever happened in your life to make you hate football players so much you need to forget it, because Jake is a totally different breed of animal. He’s smart and decent. Pay attention to that, Erin. You know he’s in love with you, right?”

In love with her?

Before all this, she would never have believed that possible. Or that she would feel the same way about him. Now everything she had believed about football players was in the wind and her opinion of him had done a one-eighty. Apparently she had been stupid enough to let one immature man and a few assholes color her opinion of an entire profession. So if he was in love with her and she felt the same way, where did they go from here?

She finished her coffee, fixed another mug, and took out her cell. She’d put it on silent at the doctor’s office and forgotten to turn it on. Plus, she’d been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed it vibrated. There were a dozen messages from Ivy, the last one saying,

Call me right now. At once. I’m going nuts.

Sighing, she punched in the speed dial.

“It’s about time. Damn, I’ve been going crazy here. What did the doctor say?”

Methodically, doing her best to remember everything Dr. Moline had said, she gave Ivy the bad news. Although she wanted to say,
He’s alive and has the use of his leg. Isn’t that the best news out of all this?

“He has to be destroyed.” Ivy sounded so sad. So distressed. “Without football, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

Erin was finally losing patience with this whole “football is my entire life” thing. “Damn it. He still has his whole life ahead of him, he can still walk on two feet, he has a brain if he’d ever get around to using it, and more money than he knows what to do with. Pardon my language but what’s the big fucking deal?”

She waited for Ivy to answer her. When her friend said nothing, she prodded, “Ivy?”

A heavy sigh swooshed over the connection. “Jake should tell you this himself. Let’s give him until tomorrow. If he hasn’t opened up by then, I’ll open up the family skeleton closet for you. But let’s wait, okay?”

“I don’t know what on earth is so terrible but okay. But if tomorrow comes and no info, you’ll owe me an explanation.”

“Call me later and let me know how he is, will you?”

“Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”

“Because he won’t want me to see him like this. Jake has always been very good about locking his feelings away. He’ll just shut me out.”

Locking his feelings away? Was that why he always had a certain reluctance to express himself except when they were having wild sex?

“All right. I have to figure out how we go forward from here.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Ivy’s voice was laced with panic. “He needs you now more than ever.”

“Let’s get through tonight and maybe tomorrow,” Erin suggested. “He’ll have settled down enough so you can come over.”

“Good idea. Call me first thing in the morning. No, call me later or even text me, just to let me know how he’s doing.”

“I will.”

Erin disconnected the call, rinsed her mug, and put it in the dishwasher. She was suddenly so tired, the lack of sleep catching up with her. Jake was still barricaded in his bedroom, so she headed for her own room, intending to lie down for just a moment. But she was so tired from last night and exhausted from today’s tension that without realizing it she dozed off.

She came awake with a start, sensing something was wrong but not sure what. She glanced at the little clock beside her bed and nearly screeched. Four o’clock. How could she have slept so long? Her intercom hadn’t yelled at her, so maybe Jake was asleep, too. Or lying on his bed in a comatose state. Or—

She pushed herself to her feet and hurried down the hall to his room. The door was still closed. She opened it gently and stuck her head into the room.

“Jake? Are you—?”

She nearly passed out. Jake was not on the bed. Nor was he any place else. She searched the bathroom, the patio, every room in the house. She worried he’d fallen down and hurt himself, but by the time she finished her search she’d almost have been grateful for an unconscious body. Having looked everywhere else, she opened the door to the garage and nearly had another heart attack. The SUV was gone. She still had the keys she’d used, but obviously Jake had more than one set. If she was grateful for anything, it was that his left leg was the one injured. At least he’d be able to drive.

Where could he have gone? Crap, crap, crap.

Dreading what she was about to do, she pulled out her phone again and speed-dialed Ivy.

“You’d better come over here,” she said as soon as there was an answer.

“Why? What’s wrong? I have to finish this project, but I can be there in a couple hours.”

“No. Now. Come right now.”

“What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

After taking a deep breath and blowing it out, she said, “I dozed off. I guess I was more tired than I thought. Jake’s gone.”

While she waited for Ivy, Erin called Scott. She just hoped he wasn’t tied up in something he couldn’t break away from.

He answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Erin? How’s it going? Any better?”

“Not really. Um, I’m not sure how to tell you this but Jake’s gone.”

“Gone?” She could hear the stunned surprise in his voice. “Where could he go? He isn’t in great shape and he hasn’t driven for three months.”

“I know, I know, I know.” She raked her hands through her hair. “It’s my fault.”

But when she told him what happened, he said, “Not your fault at all. People have to sleep, and frankly, this morning, you looked exhausted. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“But he’s not really capable of getting around.”

“One thing I’ve learned about Jake is if he wants to do something, he’ll find a way to do it. Listen, fix yourself a drink so you don’t fall apart. I’m on my way.”

A drink was the last thing she wanted but probably the first thing she needed. Her hands were shaking so much it took her three attempts to shove her phone back in her pocket. When she’d seen Jake’s empty bedroom and discovered the SUV missing, two things had slammed into her brain: She was terrified he’d end up in an accident, and she’d never get to tell him she loved him. Scott had certainly seen it. She’d been so busy protecting her heart that she’d actually lost it when she wasn’t looking. So did that mean he was right that Jake had fallen in love with her, too?

Now she wished she’d had the courage to tell him how she felt, even if he wasn’t ready to hear it yet. So where did they go from here? Right now, she just knew she wanted to find him safe and sound and bring him home.

She had no idea where Jake kept his liquor. In the three months she’d been here they’d only had wine or beer. She tried all the cupboards in the kitchen and the big credenza in the great room without finding anything. Finally she decided to look in the den.

Other than when she’d ushered Lynne Corday and Joe Reilly in to their meetings with Jake and took care of the refreshments, she hadn’t set foot in this room. Jake always closed the door when he left it. It was a typical male inner sanctum. Bookshelves lined the walls, some of them holding awards and trophies going all the way back to high school. A massive polished oak desk faced a bay window that gave a great view of the yard, the extension holding a computer and printer. Two framed pictures sat on the desk. One was the championship Granite Falls football team holding the state trophy. The other was of Jake and Ivy and a woman she realized must be their mother. Erin picked it up and studied it. The resemblance between her and Ivy was very clear.

But where was his father? Why were there no pictures of him? Jake never mentioned him. Ever. Had he died a long time ago? But then wouldn’t there be at least one picture of him?

After setting the picture back on the desk, she continued her search for alcohol. A cabinet mounted on the wall beside the desk looked promising. It opened smoothly at her touch, and she gave thanks Jake wasn’t one of those people who kept his liquor locked up. Of course when you never had company, you didn’t have to worry about hiding anything.

Bingo! A small array of bottles containing gin, scotch, and bourbon. She grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Black and was about to close the cupboard up again when she noticed a manila folder. It was shoved between the bottles and the wood, almost as if it had been stuck there and forgotten. Curiosity getting the better of her, she pulled it out, set the bottle of liquor down on the desk, and flipped the folder open.

And caught her breath.

There were three pictures in there, of a woman and two children that appeared to have been taken a long time ago. She recognized a younger version of Jake’s mother, which meant the children were Jake and Ivy. What shocked her was their condition. All three of them were covered with bruises and Ivy’s left arm was in a cast. From the expression on their faces, they looked as if they had been through hell. She also realized these were not the usual type of photos but ones that had been taken for a specific purpose.

What the hell?

Who had done this to them and how long ago had it happened? Was this why Jake never talked about his past?

Suddenly consumed by guilt for prying into Jake’s private life, even accidentally, she closed the folder, replaced it, and carried the bourbon into the kitchen. Now she really needed a drink. After taking down a glass, she filled it with ice and poured the liquor to the halfway mark. Without hesitating, she lifted the glass and took a healthy swallow. She coughed a little and her eyes watered, but as the alcohol coursed through her bloodstream, it steadied her and took the edge off her nerves.

Too nervous to sit still, she carried the glass with her as she went to the foyer to wait for Ivy and Scott. As she sipped it more slowly, she tried to think where Jake might have gone. To a bar? To Lisa and Lucy or a replica of them? She still had his cell phone with all his contacts, but she had no intention of calling everyone in there and alerting them that there was a problem. When Scott arrived, he could pick out the ones to reach out to and maybe do it himself. Yes, it would be a lot better coming from him.

Just as she took another sip of her drink, Scott buzzed her from the gate, and she pressed the button to open it. Ivy had the codes so she’d let herself in when she arrived. She had the door open and was waiting for him when he pulled up in front of the house, leaped out of the car, and jogged into the foyer.

“I have a feeling a lot of this is my fault,” she said at once. “If Jake thought he could talk to me, tell me what he was feeling, maybe he wouldn’t have taken off on his own. I probably should have anticipated something like this.”

“I think you’re heaping too much blame on yourself. If anyone should have expected this, it should have been me. Let’s stop beating ourselves up, sit down, and figure out what’s what here.”

She dumped the rest of her drink and fixed two mugs of coffee for them. They had just seated themselves at the kitchen table when the front door opened and Ivy rushed in.