Author: Robyn Carr
But she was helpless and alone again and the pain of it was horrible. So she looked into finding the best community, the friendliest, with the most proactive football coach for Landon, and they moved to Thunder Point.
She thought she’d brought them both to a kinder, safer, more manageable place. But now she felt that helplessness again. Here he was, in the ambulance ahead of her. If she understood the coach, he’d been jumped in the shower, left naked and unconscious on the cold, tile floor.
She was intercepted in the E.R. by an admissions nurse. “A physician’s assistant is examining your son—”
“Brother,” she corrected. “But I have custody. Our parents are deceased.” She dug around in her purse. “Here are my insurance cards.”
“I’m going to have you get to work on admission paperwork,” the nurse said. “Since he came in on a backboard, I think he’ll be lined up for X-rays right away so spinal injury can be ruled out. That takes a while. Then you can see him.”
“Sure,” she said. Her hand shook as she accepted the clipboard and pen. She sat down, rather than standing there at the counter, so the nurse wouldn’t see her tremble.
They kept Landon in X-ray a long time. She longed to step outside and call someone, but there was no one. In moving to Thunder Point in early August, she’d isolated herself. Oh, there was Gina, but they were just casual friends and she didn’t have her number. There were football and PTA parents, but none of them were people she’d call with tears in her voice. For that matter, she wasn’t sure who Landon’s friends were. She saw his teammates high-five and fist bump him, but there hadn’t been any friends at the house and he didn’t go out much.
Finally she was allowed in the E.R. exam room. There she found Landon sitting up, free of the backboard, talking on the phone while holding the ice pack to the other side of his face. “Yeah, I told the deputy and I said I’d press charges, so that’s done.” Then he laughed and said, “Oh, I don’t know if that’s good or not. It might’ve just bought me more trouble. Hey, my sister’s here to take me home, so I gotta go. Just wanted you to know...it’s all good. I’m fine.”
He clicked off and looked at Sarah.
“Who was that?” she asked. Who do you check in with after you’ve been beat up?
“That guy I told you about—Cooper. The one who has Ben’s place now.”
“Oh? And how old is this Cooper person?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Old.” Then he grinned and winced. “A little older than you, I think. He’s friends with the deputy. He took me out for a hamburger after the Carver game.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” she said. She had gone to that game. She’d been available if he’d wanted a hamburger. “Just where did you meet this Cooper?”
“On the beach, Sarah. I was running Ham and he was at the bait shop. I stopped to ask him what was going on there.”
“And now you’re calling him?”
“He’s friends with the deputy!” Landon stressed. “I didn’t want him to hear about this and go looking for me to see if I’m all right! Jesus.”
“It just sounds very suspicious,” she said.
“Yeah? Well, Cooper didn’t jump me in the shower and bash my face in.” He pulled the ice pack away from his purple cheek and black eye and she closed her eyes and just shuddered. “A senior by the name of Jag Morrison did this. And he’s been threatening me since school started. He was the star quarterback—you should use the term loosely. He can’t throw a pass to save his life, but he was the best they had. He does not like having a junior from out of town slip into his position.”
“How long has this been going on?” she asked, scowling. “I’ve met the Morrisons. I sat with them at a game once.”
“Since about the third or fourth practice. I’ve been holding him off.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Aw, jeez, Sarah, twenty reasons. How about we start with I don’t want my sister talking to the principal or the guy’s parents. I don’t want to hide behind your skirt. And...you’ve been going through your own shit lately. Since we got rid of Derek, you haven’t been exactly...strong. You haven’t been strong—there, it’s been said. I didn’t want to put one more thing on you—especially if I could handle it.”
She pulled the ice pack away from his face. “How about next time you tell me and save your face,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, right. It’s too late to save my face now. And I even have a date for the dance. I guess she won’t want to go now.”
“A date? Who?”
“Eve McCain. The deputy’s daughter. She asked me.” Then he grinned and said, “Ow.” He pressed the ice back against the right side of his face.
She shook her head and tried not to laugh. “We have communication issues,” she pointed out.
“You have communication issues,” he said. “You’re going through the divorce blues and, hey, I get that. I’m kind of going through them, too. Not only did I have to change schools, but that prick didn’t even ask for joint custody or visitation! How do you think that makes me feel?”
A soft smile came across her face. “I let you swear too much,” she said, secretly admitting it gave her enormous pleasure to hear him call Derek a prick. Most of the time she felt just inches from losing it. Landon’s anger sat very well with her. Maybe they should take one evening a week to sit around cursing him, saying every mean and evil thing they could think of. The bastard—breaking their hearts like that.
“Don’t look now, Sarah, but I think it’s too late. At least I know when not to say those things.”
“We have to talk more, Landon,” she said.
“Sarah, you’re the one who hasn’t been talking. When you get more over Derek, we’ll talk more. Look, it’s okay. You’ll get over him. Only a real mean fucker would start dating before the marriage even gets started, so cut yourself some slack.”
Her eyes welled with tears she wouldn’t let fall. She had been forced to be strong on so many levels—her family history, her job, taking custody of a young boy. And all with so few tools at her disposal. When something hit her—like Derek’s cheating—she withdrew into herself. Not good. Not good at all.
“Well,” the doctor said, pulling aside the drape and coming into the exam area. “We’re not seeing any reason to admit you, but I want you and your sister to be on the lookout for symptoms of concussion. The nurse will give you a list of instructions. I know the P.A. asked, but I’d like to hear the answer. Did you get hit in the game?”
He shook his head. “I’m too fast for ’em. I guess I need to get a little faster in the shower.” Then he tried his handsome grin again, and again he said, “Ow.”
The doctor chuckled.
“I can sit up with him tonight, if that’s necessary.”
“I don’t know if that’s required, Mrs....ah,” he looked down. “Dupre.”
“Meet Lt. Commander Sarah Dupre, my big sister,” Landon said. “My keeper. My ball and chain. Coast Guard Search and Rescue. And she’s single.”
He laughed again. “Pleasure,” he said, sticking out his hand toward her. “I’m married, but it’s still a pleasure. And we thank you for all the help you give us here, on the coast and wherever you’re needed.”
“That’s a shame, you being married,” Landon said. “My sister hasn’t been out in a while and you can’t imagine how that impacts my social life.”
The emotional strain of having Landon hurt left Sarah exhausted. She was afraid she might sleep too soundly to check on him during the night and considered setting the alarm on her cell phone, just to be sure she woke up at least every hour. That turned out to be completely unnecessary—she spent the night on the couch, where she barely dozed.
It brought to mind those days right after she had rescued him from Aunt Frances. He didn’t talk about his experience, but he was so shaken she slept with him every night, holding him close and safe. He never complained, but sometimes he cried in his sleep, his little body trembling in her arms.
Now he was almost a man and she was running out of ways to keep him safe.
She crept into his room at regular intervals, nearly tripping over Ham, although she couldn’t imagine what good it did. How do you hold off a concussion? But his face, beautiful even with bruises and swelling from having taken a beating, fed her soul. He was so childlike in sleep, a little boy in a man’s body, at peace and trusting.
Her. Trusting her.
He had been her priority for ten years. She’d always found a way to put him first and had been fortunate enough to get support from other Coast Guard families and her commanders. But lately? It wasn’t so much the divorce as it was Derek who had kept her completely off-balance. She had failed Landon. He’d been thrown into a new school, put on a new team, bullied and picked on without her being even slightly aware, struck up a friendship with some middle-aged man she knew nothing about...
She was going to have to talk to him about that. But first, she had to get some sleep.
Morning came with the crunching sounds of Ham and Landon having breakfast. She pried open one eye. Landon sat at the kitchen table, shoveling cornflakes into his mouth while Ham was nose into the big bowl by the back door devouring dog food. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and looked at her brother.
“I’ll make you a couple of eggs,” she said.
Landon let the spoon rest in the bowl. “Sarah, you slept on the couch in your clothes. You don’t have to make me an egg. If I’d wanted an egg, I would’ve made one. I have a black eye, not a broken arm. I did make you some coffee, however.”
She moved to the table. “Thank God. I’m exhausted.”
“Me, too. I woke up about once an hour. Someone was prowling around my bedroom.”
She leaned on her hand. “You could’ve said something....”
“And ruin your fun?” He got up and poured her a cup of coffee. “I’m going back to bed, though. And I’m locking my door.”
She accepted the cup, blowing on it and taking a sip. “The purple is coming out,” she said, gesturing with her cup to his face. “I mean coming out even more. I think you got a bruise on your bruise.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, Landon. This is my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I had no idea you were fighting this problem. I was so caught up in my own....”
Again the spoon rested in the bowl. “Sarah, I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted to be able to take care of it myself. It wasn’t until I heard Crawford Downy telling the coach that Morrison has been kicking kids around since fourth grade that I decided the best way to take care of it was to out him. I don’t know if you’ll get this, but there’s a big difference between tattling to the coach or the teacher and just taking him on, publicly. It’s the difference between a billboard and a whisper. Morrison snuck up on me in the shower. He was handcuffed and taken away. I can’t see how he’s going to get out of this one.” He shook his head. “Up until he did that, he was nothing but sneaky shoves and bragging and badgering.”
“But you talked to that guy, that Cooper...”
“Not exactly,” Landon said. “I was out on the beach with Ham, throwing the ball for him, and Morrison and some of his leeches were there, paddleboarding and stuff. They were giving me a little trouble. Not letting me pass. Ham the fearless was hiding behind me. Cooper was out on the deck at Ben’s. He gave a whistle. That’s all. Just to say he was watching. And of course that chickenshit Morrison pulled off the posse. I walked down the beach, ended up at the dock. I just talked to him for a while, that’s all. It was like he knew what was going on before I had to explain anything. He said he’d moved around a lot—he’d been the new guy a lot.”
