Page 136 of Saving the Halfback

Chase’s back was turned to me, but I could see he had Art in a choke hold in front of him. “I-I always knew you lot would be delinquents,” his father stammered. “Spare the rod and spoil the child. Ha—” Chase shifted, squeezing Art’s windpipe.

Ethan looked up at me once before turning back to his dad. “You never spared the rod on me. Not once. Where is the cash?”

“Snorted it,” Art wheezed out.

Ethan let out an agonizing scream, spinning and throwing his fist into Art’s stomach, causing a series of coughing fits. “I hope you rot in prison.” Ethan stepped back and nodded to Chase, who dropped his father to the ground.

“They’ll never know it was me. They’ll never find me.” He laughed.

Chase spotted me continuing to stand there and walked over, opening the front door and holding it for me.

“They have you on video, they know it was you. I’ll be sure they know exactly where you are. I know all your spots.” Ethan walked away then, coming toward us.

“You fucking narc,” Art spat before getting to his feet, and then he was running, an iron crowbar in his hand that came from nowhere. He raised it, as if to hit Ethan.

“Stop!” Chase yelled.

I pushed forward, running to stop Ethan from getting bashed in the back of the head. My body automatically got into the tackling position, and I wrapped around Art’s waist in good form, knocking him onto his back. I straddled his chest and started laying my fists into his face, the adrenaline coursing through me. He was high on something, though, because heacted as if my fists were nothing more than a flutter against his face. He pulled my hair, yanking me to the side.

An arm snaked around me, pulling me back just as the crowbar came down, bashing Art’s face.

Art’s arms fell to the floor, his feet twitching, his eyes unmoving, empty, the iron sticking out of his bashed-in skull, blood and brain matter leaking out onto the floor. Ethan let go of the bar. “Fuck,” he said as he started pacing. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Chase pulled me out of the house. “Bailey, stop. Bailey! Stop fighting me.”

“Ethan!” I called out.

“What’s going on?” My dad’s voice had me jumping. I turned around, my eyes welling with tears the moment I saw him.

“Ethan’s in there.” I did my best to hold back the cry. “Daddy, help him.”

“Stay here,” my dad ordered, and this time, I didn’t fight it. My dad walked into the house, the screen door banging shut behind him.

Chase let go of me, running over to the neighbor’s tree as he began violently vomiting. Was that real? Did that really happen?

I paced around, my hands on top of my head, unable to put any coherent thoughts together. Chase walked back to me, his face ghostly white. “That could’ve been Ethan,” he said, breathless. “His brain is spilling out. That would’ve been Ethan.”

Ethan walked out just then, Dad right behind him. “You stay there, and you two say nothing. Hear me?” He pointed to the two of us, standing together, then pulled out his phone.

“Eth, man. Shit,” Chase said as Ethan walked over to us.

“I’m sorry.” I bit my lip.

“Don’t,” Ethan said. “Not right now.” I stepped away from him, lowering my head. I’d just caused his father’s death. He was dead, right?

Dad walked over to us, hanging up the phone. “Police are coming. We got here, and he was like that. There are drugs all over that house. It was a drug deal gone wrong. That’s all we know, do you understand?” He looked pointedly at Chase and me.

“He owed money,” Ethan said. “Everyone knows.”

“You say nothing.” Dad pointed at Ethan. “You’ve been staying with us for the last few weeks. We only came here tonight to pick up more clothes. That’s when you saw the shop. You went home and found him like this and called me.”

Ethan nodded.

“If they decide to question you, you say absolutely nothing and ask for a lawyer. We have one.”

But they didn’t question us. The three of us sat on the curb, waiting, while more officers showed up, some with cameras and numbered markers. My dad stayed, talking to them.

Now and then, I glanced up at Ethan, afraid to say anything to him. The concrete was cold, as was the night air. I shivered slightly, and Chase wrapped his arm around me, eyes glued to the organized chaos before us.

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