Page 112 of Saving the Halfback

He chuckled. “Well, then, listen, you thickheaded cretin. I saw the black eyes, bruises, broken arm that, thank fuck, happened at the end of football season, and I did shit. I heard the rumors of the fights, but I knew who was actually giving them to you, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.”

“Liar.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Liar.”

I rolled my eyes and looked away, hating the way he was staring at me.

“See, Bailey isn’t the only one that can put you in your place.” I ignored him, finishing my burger and drowning it with a few large gulps of root beer. “I called the priest.”

Everything in me stilled, but I refused to look at him.

“I didn’t do it for you, or so I told myself. I did it for myself, because I couldn’t sleep knowing the only safe place you had was my place, and it was gone. I went to the church and asked if there was anything they could do. That’s how the priest found you.”

Even if Chase had offered help, I would’ve told him where he could shove it. My pain and anger over believing he’d backstabbed me turned my soul black. Now, though, knowing that he hadn’t taken the offer, that he had always stood by me, that everything Perry did for me was because Chase reached out to him, had a lump forming in my throat. There were cold nights I would’ve been on the streets if it wasn’t for Perry. Days I only survived because of his help. “You want me to say thank you?” I grunted around the lump.

“No.”

But the next few French fries didn’t slide down as easily as the first. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Chase pretended he didn’t hear me, stretching his arms over his head and nodding to the car. “So, what’s this car?”

I chuckled. “It’s a Kia. Nothing special.”

“What are you doing to it?”

“Replacing the brake pads.” I pointed to the open box of brand-new parts.

“Need help? I don’t know much, but I can hold a flashlight.”

I didn’t need help, but it was as if Chase needed a place to escape for a while, so I lied and told him I could use his help. Mainly, he sat on a stool, holding a light I didn’t need, while I got to work.

He asked about Bailey’s parents, wondering why I didn’t take their offer for room and board with a job. The answer? I didn’twant to burden them. However, after yesterday, I did agree to come help them out around the farm with whatever they needed.

Then Chase started talking about his dad. He hadn’t seen him in months. Vincent Jacobs had left for a work-related trip at some point during the summer without telling his son.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I asked.

“Who? Hadley knew, and she used it as an excuse to come over and throw parties whenever. None of you would’ve accepted an invitation, even if I handed one out.”

True. “That changes,” I told him. “No more of this bullshit.”

“Yeah, I turn eighteen tomorrow and get kicked out.”

Because of me.

“It’s not the most luxurious—instead of sneaking through the side entrance, I would be sneaking you through my window—but if you need a place, you can stay with me. I also happen to know a place with extra cots. Nothing fancy, but it makes do, and Perry makes a decent pancake breakfast.”

“Thanks, man.” He held his fist out, and I gently bumped it. “I have something in place.”

I nodded. “Well, brakes are done. There’s a storm coming in, but Bailey wanted to get a horse ride in. I’m sort of helping her with that. Do you want to come?”

“I’m good. I’m meeting up with Lachlan. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.” He was meeting with Lachlan. I could feel my brows knit together in suspicion. “Hey, Chase,” I called out to him. Chase turned around, walking backward slowly, like he was edging away. “You good?”

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