Missing her.
“You haven’t let the boy even explain himself,” my mother pleas again on my behalf. However, at this point, I really wish she wouldn’t.
“What is there to explain? He got lazy and thought he could cheat his way into the NFL. You should be down on your knees, thanking Ryland and me for convincing the lab to destroy your results—for a price, I might add. If word got out that my son needed to shoot up to win a game, I’d never hear the end of it. But you’re still a liability, and Ryland is too astute to let you embarrass the school by keeping you on the team. I can’t fault the man for protecting his interests. I’m just ashamed you were so careless to not do the same to yours.”
“Hank, you are blowing things out of proportion. Montgomery said that Finn could play ball as long as we did a private test each week to prove he’s clean. Benching him for a few games is not the end of the world,” my mother defends, trying hard to settle my father’s concerns.
“I’m not doing the tests,” I mumble. “I’m quitting the team.”
“What did he just say?” my father asks my mother in outrage, only to snap his head back in my direction. “What did you just say to me, boy?!”
“You heard me. I said I’m quitting the team. I never wanted to go Pro. That was always your dream, not mine.”
With those words still piercing through his eardrum, he throws the tumbler of bourbon against the wall, making my mother jump back, clasping her trembling hands over her mouth to keep her horrified shriek at bay.
I, however, keep my footing steady, not one bit intimidated by his fury. I’m done with his bullshit. I’m done with football and every expectation he ever had for me. But most importantly, I’m done being The Society’s butt boy.
They thought this would break me? Did they really believe that my father kicking me out or disowning me would be the thing that would cripple me? Or that making me look like another steroid-filled jock would ruin me? Is that what they thought?
Idiots, the lot of them.
They had already succeeded in breaking me. This extra bit of hell doesn’t compare to the one I’ve been living in since they went after Stone. I couldn’t give two flying fucks that they threatened my place on the team, or made me gain my father’s wrath.
I was already a mess of a man when the one person who knew me—really knew me—gave up on me. When Stone told me she loved me, with hate seeped deep in her gorgeous eyes, I died that day. There is no pain greater than seeing the person you love in such tremendous agony, thinking you are the cause of their suffering.
This little sideshow act of theirs does nothing for me. The first shot already pierced a bullet through my heart. Why waste extra ammunition when they got the job done in their first go of it?
“Charlene, by all that is holy, get this boy out of my house before I strangle him.”
“But, Hank—”
“Now!” he yells, his face turning an ugly shade of red.
“Don’t bother. I can show myself out,” I quip, turning my back to him and heading toward the front door.
“Finn.” I hear my mother beg, but I don’t turn around.
Instead, I just walk out, leaving everything I’ve known behind. I don’t even have the will to go up to my room and grab some of my things. This house holds nothing I want to take with me anyway. If I’m no longer a Walker as my father declared, then he can keep all my shit. I even leave my car in the driveway for the asshole to do whatever he pleases.
It was never the material stuff that made me obedient. It was the threat of being disowned from my family that kept me loyal. Being able to see my nephews and nieces grow up, or spend time with my older brothers and their wives were the only reasons why I worked so hard and sacrificed so much.
If my father is adamant in giving me my walking papers, I just hope Beau and Calvin can at least find forgiveness in their hearts, and not deny my presence in their children’s lives. They both felt my father’s tyranny long before me, so all I can do is have faith that my brothers won’t be as merciless as him. At least I hope they won’t. Unless, of course, they are more scared of my father’s retaliation than I am. However, I doubt Hank Walker will disown all his children. Not that he cares, but he’ll want to save face around Asheville. If news were to spread that he’d disinherited all three of his sons, it would stain his reputation, which would be by his own making, not ours.
Mom, though… I’m not sure how she’ll react to all of this. She’s the pacifist in our home, and I saw how conflicted she was in trying desperately to dampen my father’s temper. She’s never hid how much she loves all three of her sons, and I know her first priority is to keep this family whole. It always has been. Hopefully, she’ll make the old man see sense, but if not, I’m positive she will never turn her back on her children, no matter what her stubborn, ass-of-a-husband says.
As I walk to the house that’s been a second home most of my life, all these thoughts run through my head. So when I get to Lincoln’s after a full hour’s walk, I’m not surprised, not only to be drenched in sweat but also filled with the desire to right my wrongs. Just not in the way my family would expect.
I wasn’t lying when I said I was quitting football. If anything, this little revenge from The Society has taught me is that there are too many people pulling my strings. I want to be my own man, free of anyone’s dominance and authority. I want to be Finn—the man Stone fell in love with.
She didn’t want me because I was a star quarterback. She didn’t love me because of my family or social standing. And she sure as shit didn’t care about my money. If what Stone said was true, that she loved me before all this shitstorm went down, then I have to find some way to show her that version of Finn is the only one that exists. It’s probably too late to win her love back, but like hell will I let her remember me as the man who stole her dreams away.
Fuck that!
If The Society has a problem with what I’m about to do, then they are shit out of luck. Aside from locking my ass up in jail, I don’t think there is much more they can do to me. Sure, outing me to the police is still a likely possibility, but my gut tells me they are done playing with me. They gave out their last assignment, and I blew it big time. Because of it, they went ahead and did the task themselves, only to punish me later for not submitting to their demands.
It’s public knowledge that Hank Walker only cares about football, so of course people would assume I was just as fanatical as him. I’m sure The Society thought that falsifying a drug test would be my demise—not only for getting me kicked off the team and losing my shot at the draft, but also for being disowned by my father. Too bad they had no way of knowing my true inner desires, because I never told anyone, only Stone.
I was only real when I was with her.
As I knock on Lincoln’s front door, I feel the burdens on my shoulders being ten pounds lighter than before. It’s almost as if The Society did me a fucking favor in throwing me under the bus the way they did. My smile is just as wide and manic as Heath Ledger’s version of Joker. When Linc opens his front door, I rush in, wanting to set my plans in action as fast as possible.