The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 221: Chapter 221 - Last to Know

The silence from the ride followed them into the bungalow.

Roxie switched on the living room light and shut the door behind Zac.

He placed the ice pack on the small table near the entrance, then lowered the duffel beside the couch. His movements were slow. He kept his back straight, but one hand moved toward his ribs when he bent.

Roxie stayed near the door.

She had spent the ride watching the bruised side of his face reflected against the window. Zac had kept his head turned away from her, and the duffel remained trapped between his shoes like he was afraid she might touch it.

Now it sat inside her home.

”What happened at your house?” she asked.

Zac pulled the backpack from his shoulder. ”We fought.”

”You and your dad?”

”My family.”

Roxie waited, but he set the backpack beside the duffel and rubbed the back of his neck.

”What does that mean?”

”It means we fought.”

”With who?”

”Everybody.”

”That still tells me nothing.”

Zac turned toward the couch. ”I don’t want to talk about it.”

He lowered himself onto the cushion. His face tightened when his ribs bent, but he reached for the ice pack before Roxie could say anything.

”Did your dad hit you?”

”Mike did this.” Zac pressed the ice against his eye.

”The chat said Mike landed one punch.”

He looked at her, his voice rising. ”You believe a party chat now?”

”They’re answering me.” Roxie folded her arms and pressed her fingers into her sleeves. ”You aren’t.”

Zac’s jaw tightened.

That was the first time he had looked fully at her since they left Dylan’s house.

”Did your dad hit you?” she asked again.

”I said there was a fight.”

”That isn’t an answer.”

”It’s the answer you’re getting,” Zac said, each word harder than the last.

Roxie had imagined this conversation all day. She had imagined Zac finally telling her what happened, letting her clean his face, and admitting why he disappeared.

Instead, he sat inside her bungalow acting like she had dragged him there to bother him.

Her eyes moved toward the duffel.

”Why did you bring that?”

”Football stuff.”

”You already said that.”

”Because that’s what it is.”

Roxie studied the bag. The sides bulged. A piece of dark fabric had caught near the zipper, and something square pushed against the front pocket.

”You skipped school. Why did you need a full bag of football stuff at Dylan’s house?”

Zac lowered the ice pack. ”Can we deal with this tomorrow?”

”No.”

”I can barely think.”

”I spent all day thinking because you wouldn’t talk to me.”

Zac looked away.

Roxie crossed the room and reached for the duffel.

”Leave it.” Zac stood so quickly that pain folded him forward.

Roxie stopped with her hand around the zipper. ”Why?”

”Because it’s mine.”

”What are you hiding?”

”Nothing.”

”Then let me see.”

Zac stepped toward her, but Roxie pulled the zipper open before he reached the bag.

Several shirts were folded inside. Jeans sat beneath them with underwear and socks pushed along one side. His charger, toothbrush, deodorant, and other toiletries filled a smaller pouch. School materials rested near the bottom beside the Tennessee folder and a few things Roxie recognized from his bedroom.

There were no football pads, practice clothes, or cleats.

”This isn’t football stuff,” Roxie said quietly.

Zac grabbed the handles and pulled the bag away from her. ”I was staying there for a while.”

”Since when?”

”Last night.”

Roxie slowly straightened. ”And Dylan knew.”

Zac closed the zipper. ”Mason knew too.”

He kept his eyes on the bag.

Roxie laughed once, but the sound broke in the middle. ”Everybody knew except me.”

”That’s not what happened.”

”You told Dylan where you were. You talked to Mason. Kyle knew enough to stare at the floor every time I asked a question.”

”They helped me.”

”And I couldn’t?” Her voice weakened on the final word.

Zac dragged the duffel closer to the couch. ”I didn’t want your help.”

Roxie’s shoulders pulled back.

Zac looked at her face. ”That came out wrong.”

”No, it didn’t,” she said, her voice dropping.

”Roxie.”

”You meant it.”

”I meant I didn’t want you involved.”

”That’s worse.”

Her voice shook even though she barely raised it.

”What happened?”

”I already told you.”

”You told me there was a fight.” Roxie pointed toward the duffel. ”You packed clothes, school stuff, and a toothbrush. That isn’t a normal fight.”

Zac picked up the ice pack, but water dripped from one corner. He placed it back on the table.

”Holly found the Tennessee stuff.”

Roxie’s attention sharpened. ”How?”

”She went through my room.”

”Why?”

”I don’t know.”

”You don’t know why your brother’s fiancée was searching your room?”

”It doesn’t matter.”

”It matters to me.”

”She found the folder.” Zac’s voice tightened. ”My parents found out I got an offer from UT. Nathan got pissed. We fought.”

”And your dad?”

”He got involved.”

”Is that where the rest of the bruises came from?”

Zac’s mouth tightened.

Roxie stepped closer. ”Did he hit you?”

”Drop it.”

”No.”

”I said drop it.”

”And I said no.”

Zac walked toward the kitchen, but Roxie moved with him.

”Why did Nathan hit you?”

”It doesn’t matter.”

”Why does everything stop mattering when I ask about it?”

Zac turned around, his voice rising until the final words cracked. ”Because I don’t feel like going through every second of the worst night of my life while you stand there deciding I’m lying.”

”You are lying.”

”I’m standing here telling you what happened.”

”You said that bag was football stuff.”

”Because I knew you’d start this.”

The room became quiet.

Roxie stared at him. ”Start what?”

Zac rubbed both hands over his face and winced when his palm touched the swelling. ”This. All of this.”

”What does that mean?”

”I knew you’d react like this.” His anger had faded. He only sounded exhausted.

Roxie tightened her arms around herself. ”Like what?”

”You threatened three girls.”

”They were touching you.”

”You grabbed one of them and told her you’d rip her hair out.”

”Because you rejected my call while she had her hands on you,” Roxie said, her voice filling the small room.

”They were trying to help.”

”So was I. You wouldn’t even let me touch your face.”

”This is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

Roxie stared at him.

Zac looked tired instead of angry, which made the words hurt more. He had expected her to act badly. He had spoken to everyone else first because he had already decided she was the person least capable of hearing the truth.

”You didn’t tell me because you think I’m crazy.” Her voice cracked.

”I didn’t say that.”

”You told Dylan. You told Mason. You stayed with them. You let three girls sit all over you.” Roxie’s voice shook as she continued. ”I’m the one who couldn’t know because I’d react.”

”You already have enough going on.”

Roxie laughed, but the sound came out thin. ”So now I’m a problem too?”

”That isn’t what I said.”

”You said everyone else can know because I can’t handle it.”

”I said you have enough problems.”

”Same thing.”

”No, it isn’t.”

”You talk to Dylan because he’s easy. Mason makes jokes, so you don’t have to feel anything.” Roxie’s voice grew louder. ”Then you hide from me because I might actually ask what happened.”

”You didn’t ask,” Zac shot back. ”You came into Dylan’s house ready to attack somebody.”

”I spent all day thinking you were dead.”

Her voice broke on the final word.

Zac’s expression changed. ”Dylan told you I was safe.”

”He said you were alive,” Roxie whispered.

Zac picked up the ice pack again and squeezed it between his hands.

Roxie wiped beneath one eye before the tear could fall. She hated crying while he looked this tired of her.

”Did something happen with one of those girls?”

”No.”

”Did you kiss somebody?” Her voice rose slightly.

”No.”

”Did somebody kiss you?” The last word came out thinner.

Zac’s hand stopped.

The movement was small, but Roxie saw it.

”Who?” she asked, her voice jumping.

Zac looked toward the floor. ”Nobody at Dylan’s.”

Roxie stared at him. ”At Dylan’s?”

”Roxie.”

Her mind moved through the few girls who had access to Zac outside school. The party girls. His exes. Girls connected to Nathan and his family.

Then Holly’s name returned.

”Did something happen with Holly?”

Zac’s head lifted, and his voice rose too quickly. ”Why would you ask that?”

His reaction answered before his mouth did.

Roxie stepped closer. ”Something happened.”

”Nothing happened.”

”You just did it again.”

”Did what?”

”You lied with your whole face.”

Zac threw the ice pack onto the table. ”You’re making shit up.”

”Why was Holly in your room?”

”I told you. She went through my stuff.”

”Why did Nathan hit you?”

”Because we fought.”

”Over Tennessee?”

”Yes.”

”And Holly?”

”Leave her out of it.”

Roxie’s mouth opened slightly. ”Why?”

Zac looked away again.

Roxie felt sick.

Maybe Holly had kissed him. Maybe Zac had kissed her. Maybe Nathan caught them, and everything after that came from whatever Zac refused to say.

Holly was older. She lived in the same house. She could enter Zac’s bedroom when nobody else was around.

Roxie remembered the way his voice rose when she said Holly’s name.

”What did you do with her?” she asked, the words coming faster.

”Nothing.”

”You keep saying nothing while hiding everything.”

”I’m done.”

Zac moved toward the duffel.

Roxie followed him. ”What are you doing?”

”Going back to Dylan’s.”

”You’re leaving again?” Her voice rose sharply.

”I can’t keep doing this tonight.”

He grabbed the strap.

Roxie caught it with both hands. ”You mean you’re going back to the girls.”

Zac looked at her. ”Let go.”

”They were there when I wasn’t.”

”They don’t live there.”

”You still let them stay.”

”I didn’t invite them.”

”You could reject my call.”

”I could barely fucking move,” Zac said, his voice rough from pain and frustration.

He pulled the bag, but Roxie tightened her grip.

The zipper had not closed properly. It tore open as the bag twisted between them, and his clothes spilled across the floor.

Shirts landed near the couch. His underwear and jeans dropped beside Roxie’s shoes. The toiletry pouch rolled beneath the coffee table, and the Tennessee folder struck the floor hard enough for several pages to slide free.

They both stopped.

”You shouldn’t have done that,” Roxie said breathlessly as she stared at everything around their feet.

She had only wanted him to stay.

Zac bent to pick up his clothes.

Roxie grabbed one of his shirts and threw it at him.

”Stop,” Zac said as the fabric struck his shoulder and dropped.

His voice sounded strained.

Roxie picked up the Tennessee folder.

”Roxie.”

She threw it.

The folder struck his chest, and papers scattered around him.

Zac flinched and caught his ribs. ”Stop throwing shit.”

”You are not going anywhere,” Roxie said, her voice rising until it cracked.

She kicked the empty duffel away from him.

Zac grabbed the strap and dragged it back.

Roxie shoved him.

Her palms landed near the bruised side of his ribs.

Zac folded and caught his side.

Roxie froze.

His face had gone pale beneath the bruises. He took a short breath and stayed bent for several seconds.

Fear moved through her.

She had hurt him.

An apology reached her throat, but Zac tried walking past her.

He was still leaving.

Even after everything, he was leaving.

Roxie stepped in front of him. ”Tell me the truth.”

Her breathing shook around the words.

Zac slowly straightened. ”Stop hitting me.”

”Then stop lying.”

He tried walking past her again.

Roxie blocked the path toward the door.

”Move,” Zac said.

”No.”

”I’m leaving.”

”You always leave.” Her voice broke.

”Move, Roxie.”

He stepped to the side.

She moved with him and shoved him again.

Zac caught both her wrists and drove her backward until her shoulders struck the wall beside the door.