Page 116 of Bump and Run

I look at the floor. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. I should have told Junior when I found out. God, how could I be so stupid to—

“Eliza.”

I flinch at his tone, digging my nails into the bed beneath me. “Junior Morgan.”

His silence turns the room ice cold. I keep my head down, physically unable to move. My eyes lock on a spot in the carpet; the smallest bit of meaningless discoloration.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The disappointment in his voice cuts deep. “Does he know?”

“No,” I answer. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Good. Don’t.”

I snap up. “What?”

“Don’t say a word to him about it,” he tells me. “On Monday, you and I will go upstate and have it taken care of.”

My fists tighten. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You really don’t have a say in that at all.”

“I don’t?” he asks. “I get to pay for your school, give you a home, money, clothing, but I don’t have a say in how you conduct yourself?”

“Not with this.”

“We had a deal, Eliza. I’d say I’ve more than held up my end of it. You sneaking around behind my back, whoring yourself out to my football players wasn’t part of that deal.”

“I did not whore myself—”

“That’s what they’ll say,” he interrupts. “Like Daddy, Like Daughter.” He shakes his head. “I brought you out here to give us both a fresh start. A new image. Think about what this will do to that life — but, more importantly, what it’ll do to Junior’s life.”

I close my eyes and the tears fall down. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You don’t give a shit about me. It’s about him and your little coaching project.”

“With my help, Junior will go straight to the top just like I did,” he argues. “Don’t you want that for him? If you have this baby now, you’ll rob him of that and he’ll resent you for it.”

I force the sob down. “You know what, Dad? You’re right. Maybe he is just like you. Maybe I should spare this child a lifetime of missed birthdays and broken promises.”

“That’s enough.”

“No.” I stand up, ignoring my shaking legs. “I’m not finished yet. The truth is that you were a terrible father but Junior isn’t like you.”

“Yes, he is.” His lips twitch. “Don’t be naive, Eliza. Do you really think that he’s going to throw all of his dreams away… for you?”

The sob invades, triggering a truth that I can’t ignore. “I love him,” I whisper at the floor, trying to convince myself more than anybody how much that matters.

“That fades,” he says, calm and cold. “That’s a fact. A man isn’t remembered for the women he loved. He’s remembered for the victories he earned and the legacy he leaves behind. That doesn’t include you.” He turns away and grips the doorknob. “Monday morning. Pack a bag. You’ll be gone for a few days.”

I collapse before the door even closes, sinking hard onto the bed and crying until my entire body turns numb.

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