Page 78 of Saving Sparrow
“Damn it.” I raked my hands through my hair. Why hadn’t we asked more questions? Why weren’t we mature enough to know that the hidden details mattered? To know we couldn’t start a future with Elliott until he’d faced his past? Maybe because we all had things we’d been avoiding.
I quickly re-stacked the papers surrounding me into the folder, placing everything back in the chest. I was about to close the lid when my gaze landed on the pile of Bibles again. Picking one of them up, I opened thecover. The pages were hollowed out. Frowning, I reached inside the hole, shocked at what I pulled free.
A skeleton key.
I hopped to my feet, hurrying to leave everything as I’d found it before leaving the attic, key in hand. I doubled back to turn off the light, then situated the padlock on the door before heading for the hall of rooms.
I felt overwhelmed. Which door did I open first? And what if Sparrowwasbehind one of them? Or someone worse?
My headache came on hard and fast, causing me to sway on my feet. “Breathe,” I told myself as I leaned against the wall. “Breathe.”
Once calm and rational again, I realized I couldn’t open a door. Not yet. Sparrow may have found it pointless to lock me in his bedroom after I’d already gotten out, but there were other ways he could’ve chained me to that room. He either trusted me just enough not to trap me in there again or now felt too guilty to. Either way, I couldn’t risk the progress we’d made by rushing into a room I had no business in right then. I’d need to be strategic about it. I couldn’t afford to have the key taken away from me.
Moving as fast as my body would allow, I entered my temporary bedroom, searching for a place to hide the key. Grabbing the roll of adhesive tape from the bathroom, I used it to tape the key under one of the nightstand drawers.
I was too amped up to sleep, adrenaline coursing through me. Before I knew it, I’d reached the end of the hall again, only now my muscles didn’t seize up when faced with the stairs.
Against my better judgment, I found my way to the foyer, looking around as I tried to decide where to go next. Drawn to the living room for some inexplicable reason, I took the ten steps needed to put me on its threshold—and came face to face with a seething Sparrow.
Quentin
Then
The crowd lost its fucking mind, the roar from the stands deafening. From the end zone, I searched the bleachers for the only two people I gave a shit about, but I couldn’t spot them through the mayhem of excitement.
My teammates barreled down on me, lifting me into the air. With a rushing touchdown, I’d won us the game.
While everyone chanted my name, I used my new height advantage to search the stands again. Through the waving pom-poms and fist pumps, I made out a redhead wearing my number. Next to him, Miguel cupped his hands around his mouth and bounced like a two-year-old. I didn’t need to hear his voice to know he was shouting my name. They both were.
I signaled for Darren and JT to let me down, taking off as soon as my cleats hit the turf, practically leaping into the stands.
I shoved past the bros clapping me on my shoulder pads and the groupies trying to sink their claws into me. I even ignored the scouts from the University of Wembly who’d shown up to see me.
“They’re not necessarily here for you, McAllen,”Coach Saxton had warned.“That means you don’t get your hopes up, you don’t let your ego get the best of you, but you still play well.”
I’d played like my fucking life depended on it because who were we kidding? They were abso-fucking-lutely there for me. Wembly was in the lead for the overall number of NFL first-round draft picks. It was my dream school, but the dream went both ways. They’d be lucky to have me.
Miguel wore his contact lenses today, so I didn’t have to be careful when I ripped my helmet off, fisted his hair, and kissed him like I meant it. I hoped the scouts were watching, because they needed to know exactly who the fuck they were thinking about taking a chance on.
There’d been a change in Elliott after he found out about me and Miguel a couple of months ago. He was still scared of the world, but he was less scared now. He still had nightmares, bad ones, but less often. Our pretty girl had become more fearless, which made Miguel and me more fearless, too. Fuck football if it meant hiding, and finally, Miguel was on board with that.
“Did you see that?” I shouted over the chaos. “I killed it!”
“I’m pretty sure it was a team effort,” Miguel said dryly, brushing my sweaty hair off my forehead.
“Yeah, yeah.” I kissed him again.
“Hey, somebody’s gotta keep you humble,” he whispered into my ear.
“I’ve got it all on video,” Elliott shouted, his eyes wide, cheeks rosy. “You tore right through their defensive line!” Sometimes I thought he loved football more than I did.
“I did, didn’t I?” I poked my chest out, ruining Miguel’s attempt at keeping me humble. “They don’t call me a dual threat for nothing.”
“And Q for quarterback,” Elliott said, beaming like my number one fan. I placed my helmet on his head, then scooped him into a bear hug. It was challenging with all the gear on, but I made it work.
“It’s wet in here,” he complained, removing the helmet when I set him down.
“Funny, that’s what I said to Guelly last night.”
