Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Canyon

I'd never told anyone the story of what happened that day.

Not my friends, not even the therapist I'd seen for a while during senior year.

The memories of that day had been packed deep into my subconscious, and I was unable or unwilling to give them light.

Until today.

Somehow, the story poured out, and when Saylor wraps her arms around me, it feels good to have finally told someone. My dad and I never, ever talked about it after that night. He told me he took care of it, and that we wouldn't have to worry about them anymore. At the time, I'd been grieving for my mother and not quite sure what he'd meant, but I now understood that he'd been protecting my future. An arrest or allegations of sexual abuse—even though I hadn't been the abuser—would have ruined my chance to play in the NHL.

Saylor seems to have picked up on that too.

"Your father protected you," she says. "Maybe not in the way you would have done it, but I'm sure he did what he thought was right."

"I've never told a soul that story before," I say quietly. "Probably because I feel guilty that Dad was more worried about me than Carly or Ally. He should have protected them from Shawn the same way he protected me."

"Like you said, that was probably all he had the emotional capacity for," she reminds me. "He was about to lose his wife. He was already losing his daughter, since she was old enough to make her own decisions, so I guess he protected the one thing he had left."

"Ally deserved better. From him, from me…"

"Her mother made the choices for her. It's not on you, Canyon. You know that, don't you? You were a teenager."

"I don't know what I know. I convinced myself I didn't have any choice but to do what my dad told me. The only good news is that Shawn disappeared, so even though that's why Carly hated me, at least he wasn't around to hurt Ally anymore."

"So, what happened?"

"After the funeral she told us she was taking Ally and moving to Chicago, where she could get a job and start fresh. She blamed me for driving Shawn away, even though my dad is the one who paid him off, and said she needed space. She didn't trust us anymore. She left and that was it."

"She was an adult. There isn't anything you could have done."

"My dad could have done a lot of things."

"But he didn't. And that's on him, not on you."

"Within a few years I was making a lot of money and?—"

"And what? You were twenty years old, finding your footing in hockey, and navigating adulthood. Carly believed her drug dealer boyfriend over you. Back then, there really wasn't anything you could have done. But now you have a second chance with Ally, and you've stepped up to the plate. Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Carly told Ally I'm the reason her dad left them. That's why she hates me."

"Are you going to tell her the truth?"

"What, that I caught her father sexually abusing her? I mean, my hope is that she doesn't remember and never has to know. Even if that means she continues to hate me."

"You're a good man, Canyon Marks." She leans over and kisses the side of my face.

There she goes again, saying shit that makes me want to rethink all my life choices.

What is it about this woman that makes me stupid?

Or is this what love is?

It makes no sense.

Just because she's beautiful and an empathetic ear doesn't mean I'm in love with her.

Does it?

Is this how it happens? One day you're fuck buddies and the next you're thinking about the next step, the next level, the next thing you can do to be together all the fucking time?

If there's a higher power up there, he or she has a warped sense of humor.

I wrap my arms around Saylor, and we nestle deeper into the couch. I like how she fits against my chest and how it feels to be with someone I can open up to. Be myself with.

I've never experienced this before. Obviously, I've never been open to it before either, but the only thing that comes to mind is that Saylor is special.

"Going forward," I say after we've been lying there for a while. "I think we're going to have to do this kind of stuff at my place. I can't leave Ally alone all the time."

"We're going to be in the bedroom naked while she's out in the living room watching TV?" Saylor quips, chuckling.

"No. I guess naked time is going to have to happen when she's in school."

"That's a really small window considering you have practices and meetings, you have to be at the arena early on game days, and I actually run an art gallery. Not to mention when I travel."

"Tell me about it. We both travel."

Fuck.

I'm not going to be an easy boyfriend.

That's probably why I've never been one before as an adult.

"We'll figure it out," she says, resting her head on my chest. "How's the nanny search going?"

"I've barely started. Autumn gave me the names of a couple of agencies, and I reached out to both, but they can't meet with me until tomorrow."

"So you're not going on the next trip?"

"I don't know. I have to find somewhere for Ally to stay. Autumn offered, but she's already got Henrik's boys. Plus her job. I feel like I might need to skip it so that I can get her settled in school, interview nannies, etcetera."

"I'd offer to keep her, but she doesn't seem to like me at all. And I'm not sure forcing me on her is the best idea this soon."

"You're probably right." I sigh. "Stevie might be willing to do it. She could stay at the condo with Ally while I'm gone, but that's not her job. She's got a career and a life."

"She's also been going through a lot," Saylor says. "Keeping busy is good for her. That's why she's working at the gallery. I don't need an employee, but she needs to stay busy."

"Should I ask her?"

"I think so."

"All right. I'll talk to her when she brings Ally home later."

"It's almost seven," she points out. "You probably need to get going soon."

I haven't had a curfew since I was seventeen, and that's what this feels like.

Yeah, the gods have a fucked-up sense of humor.

* * *

I get home about five minutes before I hear the knock on the door.

Ally's name is at the front desk now, so getting into the building isn't a problem, but I need to make her a key.

"Hey." I open the door and Ally sweeps past me carrying more bags than I've ever seen at one time.

And Stevie has more.

"Holy crap…" I breathe out in a huff. "Did you leave anything for anyone else?"

Stevie grins. "A little. But I promise, she needed all this stuff." She gives me a look that tells me not to make a big deal, so I don't, even though I can't imagine what they bought.

"The bedding—" Stevie's carrying a large plastic-covered bag that looks like a comforter or something. "—is a gift from me. She said there's a queen size bed in her room. Is that right? Because we can exchange it if not."

"You didn't have to do that," I say, taking it from her. "But thank you. And yes, it's a queen."

"A young girl needs to feel comfy in her room," she responds. "And we both fell in love with this."

The colors I see peeking out are in the pink and purple family, which is certainly a departure from the brown, beige, and red that's in there now.

"Can I paint the walls, Uncle Canyon?" Ally yells out from her room.

"I wasn't sure if the condo is yours or if you're renting," Stevie explains quietly.

"Yes, you can paint!" I yell back. Luckily, my lease agreement allows it.

"She was so excited," Stevie says softly. "And honestly, I looked at her wardrobe before we left. She can't wear that stuff. Some of it is several sizes too small. If we spent too much, I'm happy to cover some of it. I just?—"

"No." I shake my head. "I'll pay you back. Just give me the receipts and I'll transfer you the money. It's been awkward, you know? I feel weird going into her room and sifting through her panties or whatever. And obviously, we're still getting comfortable together, so she's not feeling like she can just come to me and say, hey, I need bras!"

"Well, she has plenty of bras, underwear, socks, and pajamas now. She also has new jeans, a couple of sweaters, a couple of pairs of leggings, and some T-shirts."

"The backpack?" I ask hopefully.

She nods. "The backpack, a pair of black flats that she can wear to school, and a pair of sneakers too. The pair she had—the bottoms were almost worn through. But she'll need a lot of other things. Also." She pauses. "She hasn't gotten her period yet, but she's eleven, so that could happen any day now. I bought her some pads and stuff to put in the bathroom, just in case. And I told her to keep some in her backpack, so she's prepared if it happens while she's at school."

I let out a long, slow breath. "Thank you. There are no words for how grateful I am."

"Don't worry about it. It felt good to help. She misses her mom, and I know you're in over your head."

"I definitely am. And, as if you haven't done enough, I need another favor too."

"I will if I can."

"I need someone to stay here with her while I'm gone on the upcoming road trip. It's a short one, only four days, but I don't have time to find a nanny before I leave. And Ally's not comfortable with Saylor yet."

"Yeah, I think she views Saylor as competition for your attention."

"She doesn't even like me!" I mutter.

"No, but she wants to. She's grieving, missing her mom, but she's not stupid. She knows you're the one she has to rely on. I don't know what her mother told her about you, we haven't gotten there yet, but she's battling a lot of different emotions when it comes to you. Adding a girlfriend to the mix just makes everything harder for her. But she'll come around."

"I hope so." I look in the direction of Ally's room, where we can hear rustling as she unpacks and—I probably shouldn't assume this—puts away her new clothes.

"When do you need me here?" Stevie asks me.

"Oh. Uh, the team leaves Monday, but I decided I'll leave Tuesday morning so I can take her to school the first day. It feels important."

"I agree. It is."

"You can sleep in my bed while I'm gone," I say. "I'll make sure my housekeeper comes on Tuesday afternoon to put on fresh sheets and everything."

She smiles. "Deal."

"Don't forget to give me those receipts."

"I won't. And make sure you fill the fridge. I'm small but I eat a lot."

I laugh. "Absolutely. Text me a grocery list. Do you plan to cook, or should I give you cash to eat out?"

"We'll play it by ear. I have to work at the gallery all week, and Saylor and I will work out the hours so I can drop Ally off and pick her up. And then next week the art classes start. I think you should enroll Ally, even if she says she doesn't want to. When we talked today, she sounded interested, she just doesn't want to admit it because it means spending time with Saylor."

"All right. I'll take care of it."

We discuss a few more details and then Stevie leaves.

And I'm alone with a sad, angry eleven-year-old I have no idea how to handle.