The Hardest Fall

“That’s fine,” he said, looking at his feet with a frown and nodding to himself. “You can leave L.A. after you graduate.”

“I’ll leave whenever I want to leave. I don’t need your permission to do anything—not anymore.”

“Fine, do whatever the hell you want. Just stay away from my family.”

I felt nothing, absolutely nothing for this man, and the realization was staggering. I was done listening to him, and that definitely felt good, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. He wouldn’t get to have a say in anything anymore, not who I dated, not who I talked to—nothing.

I chose to stay quiet, and Mark didn’t like that. He started walking toward me.

“You’re not going to tell Dylan a single thing.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to work for me. Dylan isn’t your family,” I said in a controlled voice. Inside I was boiling with anger as my pulse rocketed.

“I’m not playing with you, Zoe. You’re not going to tell my son’s best friend a single thing.”

“I won’t lie to him anymore. We’re not just friends.”

“Who do you think you are? Just months ago, he was fighting with his teammates over another girl. Do you think you mean something? He’s an athlete with a promising future ahead of him—he’ll find someone else in less than a week.”

“No. He thinks I’m sleeping with you, and because of you, I couldn’t even correct him. If you think you can stop me from—”

Before the words could leave my mouth, he was right in front of me and there was a loud crack in the room then an intense stinging on my face. It echoed in my ears and my cheek burned with a pain I’d never felt before. I stared at my feet in shock and touched my skin with my fingers when the pain seemed to radiate in pulses. Before I could think, before I even knew how to react, Mark’s fingers were grasping my chin and he was forcing me to look at him. My hand dropped to my side and I finally looked up into his familiar eyes. The only difference was that mine were filling with tears while his were overflowing with anger.

“I didn’t bring you here so you could fuck the football team. You’re just like your mom, aren’t you? Just a slut going after football players.” He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his face and throat were red, and I could feel his spit on my face as he hissed at me. “That’s what your mom did before she fell into my bed. God knows how many of my teammates had their fun with her, and the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, does it, Zoe?” My heart beating in my throat, I kept silent but tried to escape his grip. His fingers only tightened further. “It involves my family, so I am the one who decides, not you—never forget that. You’re not going to tell anyone anything. I don’t care what Dylan thinks of our relationship. I don’t care if he thinks I’m sleeping with some girl he thinks he’s interested in. You keep your mouth shut and stay away. If you think you can go behind my back and still talk to Dylan, think again. You breathe a word to him, I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure he won’t have a future playing football, starting with the team’s last game. I see you anywhere near him, he is out of the game this week, and with all the recruiters watching them—”

Before he could finish his threat, the apartment door opened and I knew Dylan had walked in. For a moment I panicked and tried yet again to move my face away from Mark’s grip, but there was no point. I was stuck until Mark decided to let me go after seconds that felt like they lasted years. I turned my head. Dylan looked so calm, just staring at me with his blue eyes as if he wasn’t surprised, as if he wasn’t hurting.

I just stood there, my eyes caught in his stare. Suddenly the sting on my cheek was gone and the pain I felt in my chest took over.

“I think it’s time for you to find another place to stay, Dylan,” Mark said, and I jerked back, noticing how close we were standing.

A chill rushed through me and I stepped away from Mark, discreetly rubbing the spot on my chin where he had touched me. My stomach in knots, I looked into Dylan’s eyes until I couldn’t anymore. Would he understand that I’d needed him? That I wanted him to take my hand, link our fingers and take me away? He didn’t. The moment I broke eye contact, he spoke up.

“Is it, Zoe?” Dylan asked, and my eyes flew up to his again.

“Dylan—” Mark started.

He raised his voice and spoke over Mark. “I want to hear it from her.”

My breath got caught in my throat and I couldn’t say a single word. Mark could’ve held a gun to my head, yet I still wouldn’t have been able to say, Yes, Dylan, I think you should leave.

With Mark in the room, I couldn’t give him the long overdue explanation either, not when I knew one wrong word out of my mouth could cost Dylan his future, one he’d been working toward his whole life. I didn’t know if Mark was being truthful with his threat, but I couldn’t chance it, not on something that important.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, going over everything, trying to come up with a solution, an answer, I only looked up when I heard the apartment door gently close.

That quiet click broke something in me and I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. There wasn’t enough air in the world, not after he left, not when I was standing in the same room as Mark. Realizing I was on the verge of having a panic attack, I pressed my hand to my chest in the hopes of slowing down my aching heart and tried to ignore the fact that I was feeling dizzy and hot and cold all at the same time.

After a few minutes of struggling passed and I had it under control enough that I knew I could move, I swallowed everything I wanted to say to Mark and headed toward my room in the back of the apartment.

“Where are you going?” Mark asked.

I just kept walking.

“I’m talking to you, Zoe!” Mark shouted, raising his voice for the first time, causing me to flinch, yet I still walked away without a backward glance.

My first stop was the bathroom, and that’s when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was flushed, my eyes big and lifeless. The left side of my cheek was a darker shade of red than my right, the sting had come back with a vengeance, and there was a bonus ache accompanying it. I wondered if Dylan would have stayed if he’d seen the harsh redness of my skin. I tilted my head up and realized my neck didn’t look pretty either with all the bruising.

None of it mattered though. None of what I was seeing hurt worse than the ache in my heart.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look away. Grabbing a hair tie, I put my hair up in a ponytail and started grabbing everything. Then I went to my bedroom and made neat piles of my clothes on my bed. Dragging my suitcases out, I packed every single thing I owned. It took me fifteen minutes.

Tugging my luggage through the hallway, I stopped next to the door and got my keys out of the pocket of my jacket. I found the two that didn’t belong to me and pulled them off of my purple key ring. I looked up and saw that Mark was sitting on the couch, his back to me, shoulders hunched forward as he held his head in his hands.

My dad had sat just like that three and a half years ago when I’d learned that he wasn’t my real father. He’d been upset because he thought I’d be angry at him for lying all those years, but how could I? How could I be angry at someone who loved me every single day of my existence even though I wasn’t his blood? Seeing Mark sitting like that…that picture of him bothered me. What had he lost?