Page 2 of Leave Me Broken

It’s parents’ night. I planned on him being here because he got out of the hospital a few days ago. The last time we chatted, he was more than excited to be able to walk her.

Panic surges low in my stomach, thinking something else happened, but no, Payson wouldn’t be standing here if he was back in. So, what is the reasoning? If he’s not here, then who is walking her?

“She has no one else, Ash.”

“Coach.” I’m quick to remind her.

“Fine. Coach. She’s going to walk herself because she obviously doesn’t have anyone else around. Janelle was going to ask her mom to do it since her dad was meant to be here, but I guess his flight got canceled or whatever, so, yeah, no one.”

Is Jason not around anymore? Fuck. I hate not knowing what is happening in her life. I hate it more that I have to hear it from Alyssa, who I have no doubt was only listening to say something senseless to Payson later.

Sure enough, the announcer asks the girls and their parents to line up and Payson stands alone. My heart shatters in my chest. If I could punch someone right now, I’d want it to be her mum, dad—wherever the fuck he is—and the fucking pervert she has as a stepfather, who is very lucky she pulled me away from the hospital that day. I was more than tempted to go into that room and make sure he ended up in a hospital bed with no recovery for all the shit he did to my girl. One day I will. Maybe even throw another punch at her asshole brother too. No one deserves the life she’s had to live—but no one deserves it less than my little Jailbird.

“Why did you tell me this?” I drop my gaze to Alyssa when Payson looks away.

Payson is a pro at performing. It comes with years of practice and hiding your true self and emotions. However, I pick up on the telltale signs: the slight shake in her legs and the distant look in her eyes, as well as when her nose scrunches and her fingers work at the skin on her already raw thumb, proving she’s not as immune to the pressure as she pretends to be.

Janelle tugs on Payson’s plait, grabbing her attention, and Payson jumps. She turns and before her eyes meet Janelle’s, they fall on me. Well, me and Alyssa. I narrow in on the small muscle flex in her round cheeks.

“She already calls you daddy, right?” And with that, Alyssa is walking back toward her dad who is too busy on the phone to acknowledge Alyssa’s approach. As I look at two lonely girls, one with someone by her side and another with no one—I can’t help but wonder how they ended up so drastically different when they share the same loneliness in their souls. I couldn’t be happier that they did, though.

Everyone claps after Emika is announced. Her dads each hand her a huge bouquet of purple roses before taking their turns to kiss each cheek. That’s when I pass my clipboard to Luca and he grabs it, already knowing my plan. Payson would tell me no if I went over too early but if I get to her right before they say her name, she’s most likely not going to deny me the chance to walk her. No one should walk alone. Especially my girl.

“Payson Ray—” My arm slips through hers, I squeeze it tightly against my body so she isn’t able to pull away. Judging by her wide eyes, that’s what she wants to do right now.

I shoot her a too-bad look, using my best “coach” face. She takes as far of a step away as she can but doesn’t pull away completely. Even if I’m forcing her to stand by my side—I’ll take that as a win.

“Escorted by Coach Pearson.”

When she doesn’t follow my step forward, I glance down at her face. Her pale face sets an alarm off in my chest. “Jailbird,” I whisper. The announcer pauses briefly before continuing his program.

“Payson is the granddaughter of Pastor Paul Murphy. She is a junior and has held first-string Libero all three years of high school . . .”

“Pay,” I hiss not able to hide the panic from reaching my voice.

Janelle taps on my shoulder. “She hates this kind of thing. Just pull her, eventually she’ll follow.”

The announcer is already onto her favorite song, and all that’s left is future plans before it will be Janelle’s turn and we need to get to our spot on the court. I tug her along. It’s not like it’s a challenge, she’s tiny compared to me.

“Payson’s favorite song is ‘Mr. Brightside’ by The Killers.”

My lips tug up into a smile, that’s a good song. Her body is pressed against mine and as good as it feels, I get the suspicion she’s not doing it out of choice. I don’t understand why she’s like this. Payson performs best under pressure, so what is different about this? It’s simply just walking.

Payson relaxes by my side when the claps are directed toward Janelle and not her. Before she can pull away, I tighten my bicep against her arm to the point she lets out a small whimper. I place my hand over hers just barely threading our fingers so no one can see but us.

“What are you doing?” she hisses in that wanna-be-angry voice she loves to use with me lately. It’s gotten better since my car, but still not that convincing.

“Where is your granddad?” I know I should keep my gaze forward because she has a way of swallowing me into her pale eyes, but I can’t help it. My eyes fall.

Her long black eyelashes beat the tops of her cheeks with many confused blinks as she looks back up to me. Her eyes are wavering from behind me, to the floor, then back up to me as if she can only handle looking at me for so long. It nearly causes a smirk. I don’t let her see that—she’s pissed at me enough without blatantly laughing at her. I’m an asshole who takes advantage of the little girl who once crushed on me, but there needs to be a line.

“I don’t see how that is your business.”

God, what I wouldn’t give to bend her over and pinken that ass. I’ve only gotten the chance once and it’s a fucking crime. An ass like Payson Murphy’s shouldn’t go a fucking day without attention.

“Everything about you is my bloody business. Now, tell me, Jailbird.”

Her eyes blaze with fake hatred, making my dick harder. Good thing I am wearing compression shorts or the whole gym would be getting a show. Payson angry shouldn’t be such a turn-on, but it is. Everything about her is a bloody turn-on. “Where is your granddad?”

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