Sighing to myself, I pull away from the window and drop to my knees. Fishing under the bed, I tug out my bag and dig the phone out from the bottom. Sitting down on the floor, I lean back against the bed and turn it on.
It takes a few seconds. The screen flickers a couple times before glowing bright, and then I'm hit with a million pings of new messages and voicemails. Scrolling through the messages, the tones of each one changes from curiosity to anger.
A few of my friends are pissed that I haven't called or messaged them back. While others are worried and concerned they haven't heard from me. And then I start to read the messages from my step-father.
'Where the hell are you? Call me now!'
'What is going on? I've left you four messages! This is unacceptable!'
'You're not on a damn vacation, Jenna!'
Closing the screen, I rub my temples. Pressing the phone to my ear, I listen to his messages and they're even worse. He's yelling, literally yelling, into the phone. He's demanding answers, he's screaming about how I'm a failure and can't even do a simple task.
In a way he's right, but it's not because I'm weak. It's because it's wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. My step-father needs to understand there's more to this place than just a piece of land.
I have to just call him and explain.
The phone is against my ear, the ringing like a nightmarish echo in my brain. My heart is pounding so damn hard, and my stomach is flipping with nervous knots. It seems to ring forever before Troy finally answers with a yell in my ear.
Yanking the phone away on reflex, I can practically feel him spitting on me as he yells through the phone.
“Where the fuck have you been? Why haven't you been answering me? Do you think you have the authority to just do things any way you please?” His tone is harsh, fueled by rage.
“I'm sorry, Troy, things have gotten a bit complicated.”
“Complicated? What the hell do you mean complicated? Did he sign?”
“No, not yet.”
“And why the hell not? It's not that fucking hard to hand someone a damn pen, Jenna!”
“It's not that simple. He's not going to sign. I'm sorry, nothing is going to change his mind.”
He growls into the phone, speaking through gritted teeth. “So you failed? Is that what you're telling me? You can't handle a simple fucking task.”
“No, it's not like that at all.” Pressing the tips of my fingers deep into my forehead, I say, “This place is his home, Troy. This is his family's world, it's their legacy. His father is gone, his mother is gone, it's all he has left. It doesn't feel right to me to force him to sell it. There's nothing we have that he wants. The money doesn't matter, nothing can replace what he has here. Can't we find another place? A different farm? There have to be others.”
“Do you realize what I've done for you? Do you have any idea how much I've given to you and you're not even my biological child?” He's seething. I can hear him foaming at the mouth. “Everything you have is because of me. Your money, your clothes, school, all of it. I care about your mother, so I do these things for you. And I ask you to do one thing, one fucking thing, and you can't even do it right.”
“Troy, look—”
“No,” he snaps, cutting me off. “It doesn't matter. I was done waiting around for you anyway. I already sent someone else to do what you couldn't.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You haven't been answering your phone. Did you think I was just going to sit back and wait for you? I'm a businessman, Jenna, it's what I do. This shit has an expiration date that's far overdue.”
I sit in silence. He's actually sending someone else. Troy is determined to get this farm one way or another and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not going to be able to stop him. His mind is made up and I won't be able to reason with him.
“I want you on the next plane home,” he continues to say. “If not, you're done. No more money, no more fancy things, no more school. I'll cut you off and disown you. You'll get nothing.”
I'm about to speak when the line goes dead. I'm numb. I can't feel anything, not even the floor beneath me. It's like he pulled the rug out from under my feet.
He's going to take my entire life from me.
The thought makes my stomach curdle. Everything I know, everything I have, everything I'm working toward will disappear in a blink of an eye. I'll be right back where I started, with nothing.
I can't let that happen. It will gut me to have to walk away from college and all my friends. I don't know where I'd go, I don't know what I'd do. But none of that matters. Troy made the choice for me.
I have to do it. I have to go home.
Hanging my head, I reluctantly push myself up off the floor. Setting my bag on the bed, I pull the clothes out from the drawers and closet, laying them on the bed. I'm folding them up, stuffing as much as I can into my small bag.
“What are you doing?” Ryder asks, leaning against the door-frame.
Glancing up quickly, I drop my eyes back to the pile of clothes. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you're packing.”
“Bingo.” Shoving a shirt deep into the bag, I practically punch it in place.
“Whoa,” he says, coming to my side. Ryder grabs both my hands and squeezes himself between me and my bag. “What's going on? Why are you packing?”
Tears bubble up over my eyes, making it hard to see. But I don't want to cry, and I know if I blink the tears will start to fall, and I won't be able to stop them.
Looking up at the ceiling, Ryder studies my face. He knows me, he knows something is really wrong.
“Jenna, what is it?”
“I have to go back.” My lip trembles as I speak, and my hands are starting to shake.
“I don't understand. You haven't convinced me to sign yet, so you can't go.” There's a tone to his voice, a hidden plea, a soft beg. He wants me to stay.
“I know,” I say. Closing my eyes, the tears begin to fall, streaking down my cheeks. “But it doesn't matter anymore. I failed. I couldn't get it done, and now Troy is threatening to take everything from me.”
Ryder wraps me in a big hug, pressing my head against his chest. “Jenna, calm down.” He strokes his hand down my hair, and over my back. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“No, it's not.” My voice is sharp and almost hysterical. Taking a step back, I wipe the tears from my eyes and look up at him. “He's going to take everything if I stay here any longer. Even college, all of it just gone. I can't lose everything I've worked for. I can't let him do this to me. I need to go home.”
Ryder is quiet, his eyes steady on mine. He doesn't look upset or angry or sad. Turning around, he picks up one of my shirts and puts it in the bag. The silence is killing me. I need him to say something, anything.
“Ryder. . .” His name comes out of my mouth, barely audible.
“I get it, Jenna,” he says. Twisting back around, he reaches out and takes my hand. Pulling me in, he cups my face, wiping away more tears. “I understand what it feels like to lose everything. If you think this is what you need to do, then do it. I won't stop you.”