“Hey.” I cupped his cheek. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I should’ve seen it.”
“You couldn’t have.” I frowned. “Even I didn’t see that Coach was going to bench me.” The stab of pain returned, spreading across my lungs and through my veins as poison. Anguish over what I’d lost threatened to sink me, and I pushed away the thoughts as roughly as I could. “Is Pa here?”
“Mm-hmm. Yeah. He’s an asshole.” Ren grinned. “But I like him.”
“He’s perfectly polite,” I argued teasingly.
“Are we talking about the same guy? I woke up to him already sitting at my kitchen island, with plans spread across the surface. I don’t want to knowhowhe managed to get inside. Twice, by the way. This is the second time he snuck through a locked door and well-managed building security.”
If only he knew the truth. I had no plans to tell him Pa was an assassin for a secret society, though. For starters, he probably wouldn’t believe me, but also, I wanted to keep him safe. The less he and Oli knew, the better. Pa only told me when I was old enough to make sure I stayed safe. Ren and Oli didn’t need to know. Not yet. Hopefully, notever.
“Pa means well,” I said instead, pressing my lips together.
Ren chuckled. “He does.”
I blinked, surprised.
He shrugged. “I don’t know if you remember, but I called him last night. He helped you. He’s here this morning to check in on you and make a plan to move forward.”
“Oh.” Last night was a blur. I’d lost myself in darkness I’d never experienced. The last time I’d felt close to breaking was when I was a kid living on the streets, pickpocketing to feed myself. The only thing that had kept me going was the need to survive.
“Come here. Wear this.” Ren walked to the closet and dragged out his hockey jersey. I tilted my head when he tugged me closer and stripped off the shirt I’d worn to bed before slipping on the jersey.
“Why?” I plucked the jersey and sniffed it, breathing in the scent of laundry detergent and Ren’s smell, which had permanently embedded itself in the material from game after game of sweating into it.
“Because Oliver’s not the only one who should get to wear a boyfriend’s jersey.” He winked and brought me in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, stubble scraping across my prickly chin. “I love you, Kansas. Seeing you like that was hell. It reminded me of?—”
He broke off, but I knew what he was going to say. Andrea. His old babysitter, the one who’d died by suicide after suffering from an eating disorder. A ball of guilt grew in the pit of my stomach.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head, determined when he grasped my shoulders. “You were asking for help, so we need to figure out what we’re going to do from here. Together. All of us, even your crazy Pa.”
“Don’t say that too loud. He’s just starting to like you.” I smoothed my hand down the jersey and over the stitched logo of a hockey player looking massively tall and Godzilla-like over high-rise buildings. Beneath were the words “The Homeward Bladezillas.” There was something comforting about wearing Ren’s jersey, and the turmoil roiling inside me quieted. The stress didn’t disappear, but it shut up for a while.
“Come on.” Ren led me out into the kitchen. Pa had taken control of the island, with papers spread across its surface. Oliver leaned against the counter on the other side, a bowl clutched in one hand while he shoved cereal into his mouth with a spoon.
“Good morning,” Pa said without looking up. Of course he heard us. He had the hearing of a goddamned bat. Well, an assassin, too. When he glanced toward me, the hard lines on his face softened and he stood from his stool, cutting the distance between us so he could bring me into a hug.
He was much smaller than me, but I folded like a pretzel to fit into his strong arms. No matter how old I got, he was still my pa.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to tell him okay but shut it again. If anyone could tell I was lying, it was Pa. He might’ve only raised me for half my life, but he’d made it his mission to be the best parent.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I dropped my head against his shoulder. “Tired, still. Angry, but resigned.”
“You don’t need to be.” Pa ruffled my hair. “We’ll figure this out.”
“You can’t change Coach’s mind.”
“Then, that’s his loss. But I also understand he cares for you and I’m sure they’re worried.” The corner of Pa’s lips twitched, and I grinned.
“How much did that hurt you to say?”
“A lot. I’d rather go there anddealwith him. But I’m maturing, too. Not everything can be solved by death.”