Hope Unbroken (Unveiled Series Book 3) (9 page)

chapter thirteen

Tousled

After a few days of random naps on uncomfortable pieces of hospital furniture, we finally got to spend some time at home with Mom and Austin.

I straddled the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle things, Mom? This is like ten times worse than a man-cold,” I called down the hall while eyeing Austin on the couch.

He slid a throw pillow out from behind his back and tossed it at me. “Hey, have you heard me whine once?”

I sat on the sliver of cushion left open beside him and stacked the pillow onto the one already propping up his calf. He tried to pass off a moan for a cough. Nice try. “Mm hmm. Just don’t go getting all soft on me. I don’t want to hear about you asking Mom to set a bell next to your nightstand or anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do have crutches, you know.”

Along with a broken leg and fractured ribs.

I looked him up and down. Thank God, his injuries hadn’t been worse. “By the way, just so we’re clear. You better never do that to me again. Ever.”

He returned my grin from a minute ago.

I threatened to jostle his ribcage. “Promise me, Aust.”

“Okay, okay.” He held my hands down by my wrists. “As long as you promise I still get to walk you down the aisle.” He pointed at his cast. “
Walk
being the operative word, here.”

Honestly, I would’ve let him roll me down in a wheelchair if he had to, but I knew he’d want to stand by my side as Dad would’ve. “I promise.” The ache of knowing Dad would miss both our wedding days pressed in again. That reminded me. “Hey, what’s up with Hailey staying on the mountain instead of going to the hospital with you?”

Austin picked at the frayed stitching on the twenty-year-old couch. “Guess you’ll have to ask her.”

I’d like to ask her a few things, all right. “Maybe we should send Anna in instead. I bet she’d show her a few ice patches on the slopes.”

The slightest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks. “Friends, Em. Anna and I are friends.”

“Mm hmm.”

He shoved me off the cushion.

On my way up, I bumped into my backpack on the floor. The tip of the folder with Dee’s drawings in it poked through the opening. I’d completely forgotten about them. “Hey, I meant to ask you. Do you think you can help me get some of this artwork printed and see if we can sell any?” I handed him the copies I’d made of Dee’s sketches.

“You have a hidden talent you forgot to mention to me?”

His snowboarding accident obviously hadn’t knocked the sarcasm out of him.

“They’re Dee’s—the kid I told you about from the center. It’s something I need to do for him, and I was hoping between your connections at work and USC, you might know someone I could work with on it.”

He thumbed through the pages. “This is really important to you?”

More than I fully understood. I sat beside him again and toyed with my hoodie’s drawstrings. “Guess it doesn’t really make sense, but I feel like his art is tied to the center somehow. Like an extension of it or something. And getting it out there is a way to keep the center going.” I dropped the strings. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

Sometimes Austin’s smile matched Dad’s so much I would’ve sworn it was his instead. “I’ll make a few calls,” he said. “We’ll see it through.”

“Thanks.” I hugged him delicately and sat back. “You wouldn’t happen to know any gracious benefactors too, would you?”

“Still no luck on getting a grant?”

I’d stopped looking when we were so close to getting that one from the Success Foundation last term. And now, it was too late to start over. I let out a sigh. “One person. If we found just
one
key person to rally behind us, we’d be set.” I rose and straightened out my jeans. “Why is that so hard?”

Austin shrugged. “Maybe the timing’s off.”

“Yeah, well, time better hurry up and get itself together because it’s about to run out.”

Riley’s cell phone rang from across the room. His silhouette faded from the doorway into the kitchen as he took the call.

I shook a finger at Austin. “Stay put for a sec, will ya?”

“Very funny.”

Laughing, I skidded into the kitchen. Riley had his back toward me, looking out the sliding door leading to the deck. He held his cell to his ear with the arm he had propped against the trim.

Even from this distance, I could hear Jasmine’s level of enthusiasm leaving Riley’s in the dust. I ducked under his arm and tried to steal the phone.

“Hang on, Jazz,” he said. “Someone here wants to talk to you.”

She must’ve squeaked in a breath during the five seconds it took for Riley to transfer the phone from his ear to mine. As soon as I said hello, a steady stream of ten-year-old musings gushed out. I caught the words “wedding” and “flower girl” right before Mr. Preston huffed something in the background.

“Stop it, Dad,” she yelled away from the receiver. “They have every right to get married . . . No, I’m talking to them . . .”

Mr. Preston got on the line. The same unease we’d experienced at their house slithered across my neck and shoulders again. It took Riley one blink to assess the look on my face and take the phone back.

I didn’t hear what his dad said to him. I didn’t have to. A hardened shell crept down Riley’s body and stretched into his voice. “It’s not up to you.”

He hung up and jammed his phone into his pocket. A moment passed with nothing more than our breathing. He touched his lips to my forehead and left the room without saying anything at all. The front door opened and closed. Even though we were all set to leave, Riley obviously needed another minute without my following him.

Back in the living room, Austin met my anxious eyes but didn’t comment.

Mom ambled down the hallway and stopped long enough to notice Riley had gone outside. “Is it that time already?” She hurried into the kitchen and came back with a mini cooler in one hand and two water bottles in the other. “I’ll meet you out front, sweetie.” She kissed my cheek on her way through the door.

I threw on a beanie, swiped my backpack from the floor, and shuffled over to Austin. Saying goodbye never got any easier.

He inched up into a sitting position while trying not to move his leg. The second I sat down, he squished me into a hug. “Love ya, Em. Stay out of trouble.”

“Look who’s talking.” I leaned back and slid him one more smile. “See ya later . . .
Softie
.” I leaped from the cushion before he could swat me with his pillow again.

“You wait till I’m back on my feet,” he said as I scurried out the door.

Riley stood at the car, Mom by his side, and sorted through his keys. “Ready?”

Sort of.

Mom bundled me in a hug. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” She held on to my shoulders and looked at me with all the poise and confidence the moment allowed. “You have a wonderful semester, okay? Don’t lose sight of that beautiful, strong, loving, young woman I know you are.” She traced my necklace, lifted both her hands to my cheeks, and smiled.

In the car, I waved goodbye as we backed out of the driveway. She stayed on the stoop, rubbing her arms. I didn’t look away from the side mirror until her reflection trailed out of sight.

“You know,” I said. “I could kill Austin for making me worry like that, but I’m sorta glad it worked out for us to spend a few days here.”

“Me too.”

After that phone call with Mr. Preston, he probably wished we’d come straight to my house to begin with.

I angled toward him. Whether he wanted to admit it, it hurt him to be at odds with his dad. I saw it on his face. Did he hold any hope of things changing? I twisted my hoodie’s drawstrings in a spiral again and tried to unwind my voice. “It’d be nice if your dad could be a part of the wedding.”

Riley’s foot slipped off the gas pedal. “Are you serious?”

“I was thinking . . .”

He wrenched the gearshift into third. “Don’t waste your time.”

His words slammed into my gut. I hugged my arms over my torso.

“I’m sorry.” He reached across the seat for my hand. “I just don’t want to see you be disappointed.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to see you disappointed either.” I stared at the pavement streaming by outside my window. “I already have to go through my wedding day without my dad. I don’t want you to have to go through that too.”

Hot tears fought through my barriers, but I ran my sleeve under my eyes before he saw. It wasn’t a guilt trip. I only wanted him to understand.

A solid minute lapsed before he moved. He lifted the backs of my fingers to his lips. In classic Riley-style, he would let what I said digest before responding.

The first of countless exit signs passed above the car. With the long drive ahead of us, he’d have plenty of time to his thoughts. I hunched into the door panel, trapped in my own. Maybe there were too many things unsettled for us even to be thinking about wedding plans. I’d been the one lobbying not to put it off, but now I was scared we were rushing.

Glimpses of the skyline sifted through the treetops along the highway.
Please show me what to do.

The weight of it all drove me deeper into the seat and closer to sleep. No sunglasses needed this time. With any luck, a nap would evoke some measure of clarity.

Something brushed against my arm. I peeled my cheek off my seatbelt and rubbed out the indent lining my jawbone. My lashes agreed to stay open on the third try when my apartment building fluttered into view. I’d slept the whole way?

I darted up in my seat. My beanie sloped over my forehead and fell onto my lap, dragging sections of hair across my face with enough static electricity to power the car. Nice. Too bad the curtain of stringy hair couldn’t have blocked my view of Riley’s grin.

At least I didn’t leave a puddle of drool on my shirt or something. Did I? Glancing down to check, I laughed. “Nothing like seeing your fiancée when she first wakes up to make sure you know full well what you’re getting into.”

If the entire trip hadn’t already counted as some sort of premarital counseling session, these kinds of unguarded moments had to have at least gained us some bonus points.

Riley’s laugh followed mine. “If that tousled look is supposed to scare me away, then we might have a problem.”

I tucked my beanie back on. Not that it helped tame the static electricity or Riley’s amusement. I unbuckled my seatbelt and resituated my twisted sweatshirt. Thankfully, a shower was only a few steps away.

He yawned. Poor thing. He had to be exhausted.

“I’m sorry you had to drive the whole way.”

“You needed to rest. I’m not the one who has a new semester ahead of her.”

I reached into the backseat for my bag. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” School was the last thing I wanted to think about. At least I had another week to recoup first. “Well, if I have to prep for a new term, then you have to go get some sleep.” Probably days of it.

He angled his head and squinted. “Deal.”

Sometimes that smile made everything else in life feel miles away.

His expression sobered as he glided his thumb over my cheek and wove his fingers into my hair, his eyes rendering words unnecessary.

I rested my hand over his. “I love you too.”

Above anything else, that one truth would always remain.

“Em, about the center. Things are gonna work out.”

Where’d that come from?

He moved his hand to the headrest behind me. “There are people out there who believe in what you’re doing. It’s just a matter of finding them.”

And not losing faith in the process.

“It’d sure be a lot easier if we didn’t have someone sabotaging our efforts.”

“What are you talking about?”

I’d been so caught up with everything, I hadn’t even told him about my theory yet. “I think Tito has someone on the outside blackmailing our landlord. I went by his place, caught some mistress there. And this silver BMW keeps cropping up. Like someone’s tailing us.”

Riley wriggled up in the seat. “Wait, wait. What? Someone’s following you?”

Now I remembered why I hadn’t said anything. Same reason I hadn’t mentioned it to Trey. “It’s probably some scout, poking around and reporting info back to Tito. I’ve never seen him leave the car.”

“Have you called the cops?”

“I’m sure they’d be highly interested in my conspiracy theory and lack of evidence.”

He didn’t laugh. “If anyone comes near you . . .”

“I think it’s about the center, not me.”

“Like last time?”

He had me there. But this felt different, even if I couldn’t explain it. “I’m not saying it couldn’t be dangerous, but what are we supposed to do? I’m not gonna cower to threats. Tito’s not winning this one. I don’t care how far he thinks his power flexes.”

Riley blew out a breath. “Just promise me you won’t go near the center alone.”