in explaining Jess's family situation. Mom is the one I turn to when I need a shoulder. While I pushed her and Dad away back in April when I was re-injured, it wasn't personal. I needed time to process. They understood because it's the exact advice she gives me now.
"Let her process her pain, sweetheart. Be there for her and love her while she comes to terms with what has happened. Don't worry about giving her the answers until she's ready to ask for them. Your father and I will help however we can, you let her know we're here if needed." I agree, and she clears her throat and tells me she loves me. "She's fortunate she found you at this moment in her life," she finishes.
She means Jess is lucky she isn't alone and dealing with her parents’ failures, and Mom's right, but I'm the one who is fucking lucky to have found Jess at this moment. Losing football doesn’t hurt so much when compared with what I’ve gained. Her selflessness in coming home and putting her dad first is part of what made me fall. Her sexy body and beautiful face drew me in, but her heart of gold sold me for good.
I rush to make my second call before the shower turns off. This one takes minutes—a few sentences.
"I need you in Rossview," I say without preamble.
"Um, hello to you too. What's up?"
"Well, in case you haven't heard, Jess and I are together, her father is a drunk, and her mother has abandoned them. She came home to take care of him and figure things out, and well, last night he hit her and they fought, and now she's living at my place—"
"Say no more, we'll be there tomorrow."
"I figured that would be the case. I'll text my address."
"Carter, I didn't know. She said there were issues, she never went into details."
"I figured that was the case as well. See you soon."
I end the call and rub my forehead, hoping I haven't screwed up by sharing the details of her life with others. My phone vibrates in my palm, and I laugh at the text:
"You and freaking Jess!!! I'm going to need every detail after I hug my girl and love her. I'm so happy about this, Carter Cooper. So, so happy!"
Jess
I wake to tears dampening my pillow and face. The bedroom is dark. My dream slips from my grasp—nothing but curses and fists and broken glass remain on the outskirts of my sleep-addled mind. No wonder I'm crying.
"You okay?" Carter asks, his voice thick. The mattress dips, and he's grasping my hip and sliding me across the sheet and into his body.
"Mm-hmm," I hum, my face settling in the crook of his chest as I fold around him. He's safe.
A finger touches my cheek, wiping away the moisture he must notice when I lay my wet face on his skin, and his chest rises beneath my head as he inhales deeply. "Talk to me."
"He's never hit me before. That wasn't normal. That rage…" I sniffle. Carter asks for the story. I wouldn't share the details today while I lingered numb on his couch, and he sat with me. He spent an entire Saturday watching show after show with me and never asking for anything. He made me lunch and dinner, and he coerced me into taking a shower—without taking liberties—then steered me into bed early and stroked my spine until I fell asleep. Carter deserves to know what happened, so I give him each detail. How Dad mistreated me, what he said about Sonny, and how he accused me of being a whore. Like her.
Carter's body tenses at the mention of Sonny, and it's clear we'll have to discuss the man's part in this later. Carter won't let it go undiscussed, but currently, he listens to everything I say without interruption.
A steady drum plays in my temple. "He knew I wasn't at home during the night, which means he must have been awake. Going out, or having someone over at the house with him. He was never sober. He was faking it."
"That's what addiction does to people. He was desperate."
Shoving my hair back, I sit up. "I know that Carter, but I didn't … I didn't think he was—"
"That bad?" he asks, and the bedside lamp ticks on. Carter looks up at me from where he lies flat on his back. His hand finds my knee and rests there. "He was high, Jess. I know