Betwixt, Before, Beyond (29 page)

Chapter Eight

This is hopeless.

Frickin' Adam! Did I honestly think he'd help me?

My plan sucks, and I'm not going to be able to give Dale what he so desperately wants. I step out the door and lean against the wall. My fingers are quivering as I pull out my phone and text my boyfriend. I tell him I can't make lunch and will catch him after school. I know he'll be disappointed, but I just can't face him right now. One look at those compassionate eyes and there'll be no stopping the waterworks.

I sniff and inhale slowly, trying to ward off the tears. Why the hell am I doing this anyway? I don't want Dale to move to New York!

It's what he wants. What he needs.

And I love him.

The words whistle through my brain. They're so clear and sure; I can't miss them.

I close my eyes and lightly thump my head against the wall. Bad idea. I rub my temples, willing the familiar headache away. I guess I'm just going to have to see the mayor on my own.

Checking my watch, I try to calculate how much time I have left before the end of lunch. I could try skipping out again, and if I miss 6
th
period, that's no big deal. I could still make it back in time for Dale to take me to physio. I poke out my tongue, hating the idea of physio. I'm so over it. The only good thing about going four times a week is that Dale now works out beside me, presenting me with a decent display of eye candy. I'd be all over him at the end of each session if my body wasn't so wasted from forcing my knee back to its former self.

My phone dings and I quickly read Dale's message. It's sweet and concerned as per usual, making me smile. But a frown soon appears as I rub my thumb over the locked screen. I slip it into the side pocket of my bag, deciding to reply later when I've thought of something comical to say. Right now, I'm feeling too frustrated.

I pull in a breath and start off down the hallway. If I am going to get to the mayor's office today, I need to get moving. I start playing with different ways of telling the mayor my story, hating each one. This is going to suck!

"Nicky, wait."

Adam's quiet words scuttle down the hallway after me.

I slowly spin back to face him. His bag is over his shoulder. He's clutching it nervously, tapping his index finger on the shoulder strap.

I don't say anything, just wait for him to catch up with me. It doesn't take long with his tall strides. He peers down at me, his forehead scrunched with worry.

"Okay, I'll come."

My mouth drops open. "You'll come? To talk to your dad?"

Adam shakes his head. He almost looks as if he's in physical pain. His eyes are so filled with anguish. "No," he whispers. "I'll come with you to talk to the mayor."

"Are you—I mean, are you sure?"

He swallows and looks away from me, studying some speck on the wall for a second. His finger is still tapping. The rhythm is steady, but not soothing. He looks like a jittery mess.

"Yeah, Nicky. I'm sure."

He sounds anything but. I decide
not to let this bother me and turn towards a side door that will lead us to the student parking lot.

We don't say anything as we drive out of the school. I don't know if anyone spotted us. I hope they didn't. I can just imagine the crap storm that would result if word spread that Nicole Tepper was seen getting into Adam Hutton's car. Dale would have a conniption if he knew. He's a pretty forgiving guy, but he makes sure to keep me as far from Adam as he can. He still doesn't trust him.

I peek a glance at Adam as he turns onto Big Bear Boulevard and starts heading for City Hall. Hi
s knuckles are white, his jaw clenched tight.

"You know, they probably won't let us just waltz into his office."

"I know." Adam's voice is thin.

"Do you think you'll lose your nerve if we have to make an appointment or something?"

"I'm not leaving 'til I tell him." The words only just make it out through his gritted teeth.

I look out the window, slightly bug eyed. What the hell have I started?

This is good, right? I mean Adam should have 'fessed up six months ago when this all went down. I'm not being mean by forcing him to do this. I'm not technically forcing him to do it, am I?

Oh Nicky, shut the hell up! Just think about Dale.

I force images of the world's best human into my brain, playing with a memory from last weekend when we went for a really flat, gentle hike through the forest near the back of my place. He's determined not to let me fear the environment I nearly died in, so he has been coaxing me to walk amongst the trees. Last weekend was great. My gimpy leg made it further than it ever had without hurting and during our "rest" break, I was thoroughly rewarded on the picnic blanket Dale had laid out for us. I blush, my skin growing warm as I remember his hands sliding up my jean-clad thigh, his lips warm and intense on my mouth, the weight of his body on mine, making me feel safe and secure...the way he had to suddenly roll away and collect himself before he went too far. I love that I can do that to him. I guess it's kind of mean, but it's good confirmation that he's into me. I try to cling to every one of those moments.

The fact that in a few months’ time they will cease to exist nearly cuts off my air supply. I try to counter the mild panic attack sweeping over me by slowing my breathing and blinking at my rapid tears. Thankfully
, Adam doesn't notice. He's too distracted by something in the rearview mirror.

"Oh shit." He slams the wheel, making me jump.

That's when I hear the siren. Reluctantly, Adam flicks on his indicator, and we pull to the side of the road.

"Is that your dad?" I swivel to look out the back window and wince.

Adam doesn't say anything, just taps his finger on the wheel and looks straight ahead.

A few seconds later, his door is clicked open and Sheriff Hutton is leaning into the car. His stern glare increases tenfold when he sees me in the passenger seat.

"What the hell is she doing in your car?"

I totally get why Adam is so scared of his dad. The look on Sheriff Hutton's face screams murder. I can't maintain eye contact.

"Get out of the car. Both of you." We have to obey the steely voice. Much to my disgust, we both jump to do his bidding. I try to counter my direct obedience, by slumping against the car and throwing the sheriff a black look.

I fold my arms across my chest. Adam stands next to me, his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground.

"Where are you two going?"

We keep our lips sealed. I glance at Adam, but he won't look at me.

"You should be in school."

"It's our lunch break. Seniors are allowed out for lunch." I spit the words at him.

The Sheriff approaches me on swift feet. "Last I checked, you're not a senior, Miss Tepper."

I roll my eyes and lean away from him.

"Now what are you getting my boy into?"

My eyes dart towards the angry face then back to the ground. I'm really trying to pull off nonchalant, but the sheriff is making it damn difficult. My pulse is so
fast, I think my veins might start breakdancing. I rub my elbow, a nervous habit I've picked up since the accident.

He leans in closer. I can smell the black coffee on his breath. "You trying to get my boy in trouble?" His granite stare is fully nailing into me. I try to twist away, but he moves to invade my space again.

"Get out of my face!" I push his shoulder.

He looks incredulous as he steps back and reaches for his cuffs. "
You attacking an officer of the law?"

"What? Don't be stupid. You're using intimidation tactics!"

"Tell me where you're going."

"Forget it. It's none of your business."

"My boy's not my business?" The sheriff points at his son before getting into my space again. Slamming a hand on the car either side of my body, he leans forward, trapping me. "You better not be stirring up trouble, girl. Remember what I told you yesterday."

My gaze turns molten. I can feel it. "And remember what I told you."

A tendon in his neck pings tight. His mouth makes this horrible shape, and his fist rises into the air. This fully freaks me out. I'm about to scream until an iron grip clamps around the Sheriff's wrist.

"Dad, stop."

Adam's voice starts out soft, but the sheriff is still straining against his son. His menacing whisper is growing darker by the second. "I'm going to finish you, you little bitch."

"Dad!" Adam yanks his father back. "Stop!"

The sheriff's eyes round with disbelief and then flash with sorrow, before growing malevolent once more. "Don't let her talk you into doing this, son. You get back in that car and head back to school. Right now!"

"No, Dad." Adam's voice is quivering, but he stands tall in spite of this.

"Adam, get back in the car!"

"I'm not going back to school. I have to do this."

The sheriff's face crumples, his shoulders sagging just a little. "No, son." His voice softens, replaced with a gentle, persuasive tone. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to throw your life away." He gently grips Adam's shoulder. "I won't let you. You've worked too hard. You're too brilliant."

"Dad.
" Adam's voice breaks and he looks as though he's about to burst into tears.

"It's okay, son." The sheriff pulls him into a firm embrace. "I'll write the reference letter, okay? I'll give her what she wants...and then this will all be over. We can move forward."

His voice is kind and sincere and I see Adam's head bob. I'm about to smile with relief until the sheriff throws me a vicious glare. I shrink back from it and place my hand over my throat.

Sheriff Hutton releases his son and pats him on the back. "I'll make some calls tonight and write the damn reference."

"Do it now," I say.

"Excuse me?" His eyes are on me again, evil and threatening.

"I want you to make those calls right now. I want to hear you talk to your brother." I rise as high as my short body will let me and stick out my chin.

Before the Sheriff can complain, Adam opens the passenger door for me. "I'll drive you to the station."

Adam's around his side of the car before the Sheriff can say a word. We do a U-turn and head back to Summit Boulevard. Adam doesn't look in the mood for chatter, but I can't help myself.

"Thanks for standing up for me."

He shrugs and shakes his head.

"I thought he was going to kill me for a sec
, or at least beat the crap out of me."

"Dad doesn't hit anymore."

His quiet statement makes my eyes bulge.

"Your Dad used to...to beat you?"

Adam snickers and shakes his head. "He wouldn't call it that."

I frown.

"Let's just say my ass was redder than a tomato if I ever got in trouble. One time, I couldn't sit down for an entire day."

"What'd you do?"

"I accidentally broke his car window playing baseball. My brother missed the catch, and it went straight through the glass." He grimaces.

My stomach quivers. My parents were never like that. I'd been smacked like once. I was about seven
, and I'd just told mom to shut up and stop being such a bitch. I didn't realize Dad was behind me. I got a swift slap on the leg and a very firm reprimand. I spent the rest of the day in my room thinking my parents were evil child bashers.

Man, I had no idea how lucky I was.

I can't say anything else after that. My throat is too clogged.

Fifteen minutes later the Sheriff is slamming down his phone. A stark contrast to the plastic, jovial conversation he's just finished conducting. "My brother has Finnigan's details and will talk to the admissions office first thing in the morning."

I nod and smile.

The sheriff looks ready to pummel me.

I clear my throat. "And the reference?"

He looks from Adam to me and with painful slowness, swivels in his chair and opens up a fresh document on his computer. I know it's ballsy, but I step around his desk and watch him type. His neck tendons are straining big time as he hits each key forcefully, compiling a very nice reference. I'm nodding my head with approval as I read it.

See! Not so hard. Dale Finnigan rocks!

The ease with which the Sheriff slaps something together, is proof the guy knows Dale is good. He’s just decided to have this thing against him...all because he nearly busted his son.

What a prick!

"You misspelled upstanding." I point to the missing i. "And privilege doesn't have a d in it. Also, you need to swap the e and the i around in the word receiving."

If the Sheriff could have killed me now, he would have. I swear.

Thankfully, Adam's nervous chuckle distracts him. "Thanks so much for doing this, Dad."