“Thanks for coming.”

“Miss a chance to see you in tight pants? I think not,” she teased, the color in her cheeks deepening at her audacity.

“Then watch this,” Hardy said, turning to jog away and tossing her a grin back over his shoulder. She was looking at his butt. He chuckled, certain his heart might sprout wings and take flight.

Mila put her arm around Miracle’s neck and said something in Miracle’s ear. Both girls laughed before Miracle smiled at him and waved again, letting Mila lead her into the stands.

As Hardy, still smiling, turned back to the game, his gaze collided with Cheyenne’s furious one. He nodded once, refusing to let her ruin the moment. After that, he put as much focus as he could back on the game.

********

Hardy had a fairly good performance. Nowhere near his best game, but nowhere near his worst either. He doubted his father would be pleased, but they’d won and that was the main thing. Hardy hated to let his teammates down.

Spirits were high in the locker room. Towels were being snapped, fake jabs were being thrown, and nookies were being performed. Between that and his growing feelings for Miracle, Hardy was on cloud nine when he exited the locker room.

Until he saw his father waiting for him.

Wayne Bradford clapped his big hand onto Hardy’s shoulder and, with a tight squeeze, guided him away from the others.

“What the hell was that?” the elder Bradford spat, careful to keep his back to the others so that no one would see his upset.

“We won. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal, Hardy, is that if you don’t give a better showing in front of these scouts, they’ll pass you right over.”

“I’m doing fine, Dad,” Hardy argued.

“No, you’re not. And I know why. I saw you with that trailer-trash girl again and I’m here to tell you it ends tonight. No more, Hardy. Do you hear me?”

“She has nothing to do with this, Dad. She—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. You’ve been screwing up left and right since you stopped seeing Cheyenne and I want it fixed.”

“Dad, I—”

“You let me believe you’d been spending your free time with Cheyenne, when you’ve really been with that girl. Well, let me tell you something, mister—”

“Enough, Dad!” Hardy growled. His teeth were gritted in barely controlled anger. “It’s not gonna happen with Cheyenne. I’m doing just fine and you’re just gonna have to live with my choices. I’m with Miracle. Yeah, that’s her name, Dad. Miracle. Get used to it.”

Yanking his shoulder out of his father’s grasp, Hardy stalked off. A tempest of emotion was raging in the pit of his stomach. He always felt some degree of pride and accomplishment when he stood up to his father, but there was always an underlying sense of dread and regret, too. Hardy worried that one day he’d make his father mad and, rather than taking it out on him, his fists would find the tender ribs of his baby brother instead. The thought made him feel nauseous.

Shaking it off, Hardy made his way to his car. He was stowing his bag in the back seat when he heard the clack of footsteps behind him. Just as he turned around, his father grabbed him by the throat and pushed him back against the cool metal of the rear door.

“If you’re not going to abide by my rules, then you won’t be driving my car. Leave the keys in my office when you get home tonight. Let’s see what your freedoms are worth to you.”

With that, Wayne released Hardy and strode back the way he’d come. Absently, Hardy rubbed his throat as he watched his father go.

A mild sense of panic worked its way into his chest. Without a car, he wouldn’t be able to see Miracle as much. And that was unacceptable.

Before he let his emotions get out of hand, Hardy ruthlessly pushed them down, determined to figure something out before morning.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hardy was already on edge when he turned the corner onto Miracle’s street. When his headlights shone on the Jeep parked along the curb, anger and resentment bubbled to the surface.

Miracle was standing on the stoop talking to Jonah. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was shaking her head at something he was saying. Hardy slowed and watched the two as he quietly approached.

Jonah raised his hands and gestured emphatically. Hardy’s face flushed with heat. Jonah waved his arms wildly. Hardy’s pulse hammered in his chest. But then, when Jonah actually reached forward and grabbed Miracle by her upper arms and shook her, Hardy saw red and fury exploded in his stomach.

Slamming on the brakes, Hardy stopped right in the middle of the street, pushed the gearshift into park and leapt out. He practically ran to Miracle’s side.

Jonah heard him coming. He turned toward Hardy just as Hardy’s body left the ground and flew through the air like a missile, knocking Jonah against the side of the house.

Hardy heard the breath leave Jonah’s lungs in a whoosh before they both fell to the concrete porch.

In the back of his mind, Hardy knew Miracle was saying something to him, but he was blinded by his rage, thinking only of tearing Jonah limb from limb for daring to lay a finger on Miracle.

Hardy wrestled Jonah onto his back and, before he could think better of it, his fist connected with Jonah’s jaw. Bone hitting bone split the quiet night like a crack of thunder. Hardy felt very little pain as the bones in his hand gave way. He didn’t realize what had happened until he landed his second punch and felt the splintering in his wrist.

He dropped his right hand, having every intention of proceeding with his left, but his opponent was already unconscious beneath him. He wasn’t sure which punch had done it, but Hardy had knocked Jonah out.

Like a tide receding from the shore, most of Hardy’s anger drained away and he thought only of Miracle. He turned to locate her. She was standing behind him, near her front door, her eyes wide and her hands clamped tightly over her mouth.

Hardy rose to his feet and walked to her. When he raised his hands toward her, she flinched, backing away from him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Miracle looked from him to Jonah and back again. Finally she nodded. Hardy took another step toward her, but she backed further away.

“I won’t hurt you, Miracle. I’d never hurt you.”

He saw the indecision in her eyes. She was warring with what she knew of him versus what she’d just witnessed. To trust him or not to trust him. He’d given her reason to doubt him and it tore Hardy apart.

His heart plummeted when Hardy saw fear and something akin to distrust drop down over Miracle’s face like a curtain. In that moment, Hardy realized the extent of the damage he’d done. And there was nothing he could do to change it.

“Maybe you should go, Hardy,” Miracle suggested when she finally moved her hands.

“I’m not leaving you alone with him when he wakes up, Miracle.”

“I’m not worried about him,” she said pointedly.

“Miracle, please don’t do this. I’m not the bad guy here. I saw him grab you. I was just trying to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protecting, Hardy. He wasn’t going to hurt me. He was just upset.”

“But it looked like—”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been watching. Or maybe you should’ve made sure of what was going on before you went and attacked him.”

Between the disgust in Miracle’s eyes and the growing pain in his hand, Hardy was feeling worse by the second. “Here, I’ll call 911.” Hardy yelped when, out of habit, he reached into his pocket with his right hand to retrieve his phone.

That got Miracle’s attention. “Let me see your hand, Hardy.”

She stepped closer to him and, even though he really didn’t want her touching it, he bit his lip and let her anyway. It was better than seeing her back away from him as though he might strike her at any moment.

After taking his hand gently into her own and closely examining it, Miracle raised troubled eyes to his. “Hardy, what if it’s broken?”

At first, Hardy didn’t fully understand what she was getting at. He shrugged. “Then I’ll go to the doctor. It’s no big deal.”

“But what about football? You can’t throw a football with a broken hand.”

The reality of the situation slapped him in the face. His head swam dizzily and his hand throbbed. “Uh…um…I didn’t…” Backing up and resting against the side of the house, Hardy bent over and rested his good hand on his knee, taking slow deep breaths.

Miracle was quiet for a long time before she put her hand on his shoulder and spoke. “Will he hurt you?”

Hardy straightened, meeting her concerned eyes. He was more relieved than he imagined possible to see something other than fear, disgust and mistrust there. “I don’t know and I don’t care. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Hardy, there will be consequences. You know that, right?”

Hardy sighed. “I know, Miracle, but I don’t care about that. I…I…” he stammered, ducking his head in shame. “I’m so sorry. I got into it with my dad after the game and then when I saw Jonah grab you…”

Hardy was wearing his heart on his sleeve and his regret on his face. Miracle searched the blue gray of his eyes for…something. He hoped she would find it.

With a sigh, Miracle glanced down at the still-unconscious Jonah. “I’ll try to talk him out of pressing charges, but I need to get him to the doctor.”

As if on cue, Jonah moaned. “It’s my fault. If you’ll pull my car around, I’ll get him in the backseat and you can drive us to the emergency room. I’ll just have to deal with whatever fallout there is. It’s my own doing.”

Miracle nodded, jogging off to Hardy’s car. He hoped he could undo some of the damage by being mature and responsible about the situation from this point forward. He couldn’t blame her if she never trusted him again, though. It made his heart hurt to think of it, but he couldn’t blame her.

With a lot of painful maneuvering, Hardy managed to get a groggy Jonah into the back seat of his car. His nose and mouth were still oozing blood, so Hardy pulled a clean t-shirt out of his duffel and gave it to him to use until they reached the hospital.

Once inside and registered, Hardy was taken to one room, Jonah to another. Miracle went with Jonah, although it made Hardy feel better when she looked back at him over her shoulder. Maybe he hadn’t completely lost her.

It wasn’t long before Wayne Bradford showed up. He schmoozed his way through the various medical personnel like a politician. To Hardy, his worries felt compounded the instant he heard his father’s voice.

He was all smiles and pleasantries to everyone he encountered, including Hardy, but Hardy knew his father was boiling just beneath the surface. He saw him flex his fingers several times as though it was all he could do not to punch Hardy where he lay on the hospital stretcher. The one good thing about the length of an emergency room visit, however, was that he would likely have cooled off somewhat by the time Hardy was discharged. It was much less likely he would get violent at that point.

After the first hour had passed, Hardy overheard his father asking the doctor if he could talk to the other boy involved. The doctor told him he didn’t think that would be a good idea. He wouldn’t even give him a status update. The doctor did, however, offer to let Wayne speak to the girl who was with the other boy.

Miracle.

Hardy held his breath when he saw the doctor return several minutes later with Miracle in tow. He noticed her glancing nervously into his room as the great Wayne Bradford questioned her. Thankfully, needing her help, Hardy’s father was very pleasant to Miracle, but he wasn’t fooling Hardy; he knew how his father really felt.

As Miracle stood outside Hardy’s room talking to his father and the doctor, Hardy got yet another unwanted surprised. Cheyenne.

Hardy gritted his teeth. There was only one person that would’ve called her, and he turned around and glared at Hardy just as Cheyenne rushed to his side. Wayne dared Hardy to resist when Cheyenne threw her arms around his neck.

Hardy looked away from his father, only to see the look of hurt on Miracle’s face. Hardy had never wished more that he’d broken his hand on his father’s jaw instead.

Things were getting worse by the minute. Hardy knew there was nothing he could do for the time being, so he closed his eyes against the world and leaned his head back against his pillow. He just wanted the day to be over.

Several hours, exams, x-rays and a Colles Fracture splint later, Hardy was released into the care of his father. Wayne informed the hospital that he would send someone after Hardy’s car later, as Hardy couldn’t drive after being given narcotics for pain. Hardy didn’t argue.

“Well, you’ve certainly done it now,” Wayne said as soon as they were out of the hospital parking lot. “I’ll have to call the scouts that have already seen you play and see if they’d still consider you. The doctor assured me that we’ll be able to get an acceptable report from the physical therapist…”

Hardy listened to his father drone on and on about the mess Hardy had made and how he was going to have to clean it up. About how irresponsible and selfish Hardy was and how he was lucky his father was influential enough to get Jonah to drop the charges. He reminded Hardy over and over again that he owed his life, his future, pretty much his entire existence to his father.

Hardy had no interest in the future that Wayne Bradford had plotted out for him. The only thing he was interested in was Miracle. And he might have lost her.

It didn’t take long for apathy to set in.