Take Me On by Katie McGarry Read Free Book Online Page A

improved by then.”
    “You’ll find something. I know you will.”
    “How’s the college search going?” Dad rushes out.
    I freeze, unsure how to respond. I’ve kept the rejection private, though I crave to tell Dad. Once upon a time, he would have been the first person I approached with any problem because he always had the right words. He’d place an arm around my shoulder, kiss my temple and tell me, “Bad luck, kid. We’ll get ’em next time.”
    The hurt inside, knowing I’ve let him down with the gym and kickboxing and now college, it’s like being gutted open by a serrated blade. “The college search is going great.”
    “Do you have any scholarship leads?”
    No. “Yeah. Plenty.”
    “Good.” A pause. “Good. At least Kaden has the gym.” His voice cracks as his skin fades into the color of ash. The expression is off when all my memories of him are of a courageous fighter. I’ve watched my dad battle in the ring against opponents who were stronger than him and win. How did he become this broken?
    Dread causes my hands to jerk because I itch to stick them over my eyes. It’s awful to watch his undoing, knowing I’m partly responsible. If I had gotten the meds, he wouldn’t obsess over his mistakes and he could start sleeping at night.
    “Kaden will continue on at the gym, but I thought I’d have something to offer you for college. I had some money tucked away, not a lot, but enough to help, but then we needed it for the mortgage...”
    A strange noise leaves Dad’s throat as he slides his chair back. “Library.”
    Though it’s not open for a few more hours. Dad squeezes between the wall and the table and as he’s on the verge of leaving the kitchen, I open my mouth. “Daddy...”
    My father presses a hand against the doorframe, his knuckles shifting as he tightens his grip. I haven’t called him that in years. He peers at me from over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I know, Hays. I know.”

West
    The intensive care unit of the hospital has that slasher-movie quiet to it. That moment right before the psycho jumps out from behind a counter and hacks the people to bits. From the family waiting room, I can hear the occasional monitor beeping, the rustle of paper and the low murmur of conversation between the nurses. I loathe this place. It’s cold, sterile, smells of rubbing alcohol and is filled with death.
    Rachel shouldn’t be here. This place is the opposite of her. Unable to sit anymore, I jerk out of my seat. The guy on the other side of the room tugs his head up to look at me. We stare at each other. His wife is dying. I overheard him tell someone a few minutes ago.
    Dying.
    As I said, Rachel doesn’t belong here.
    I glance away and walk to the windows. My jaw hurts. The knuckles on both my hands are scratched to hell and throb like a bitch. I drove here hours ago. Abby visited Rachel and left. I texted Dad and told him I was here.
    Silence—from my entire family. From my way older brothers, Jack and Gavin, to Rachel’s twin, Ethan, to Mom and Dad. They want me to visit Rachel, but I can’t. Not with her here, not with her surrounded by people who are dying.
    I failed her. My heart pounds hard and the sharp ache creates an edginess. I shut my eyes, wishing I could leave.
    “West.”
    I turn to the sound of my mother’s voice. Tears have dug grooves into her makeup and her black mascara smudges in clumps near her eyes.
    Nausea slams into my gut. “Is it Rachel?”
    “We talked to the hospital’s specialist. The damage to her legs is severe and—” Mom chokes on her words, then clamps a hand over her mouth. She exhales and regains composure. “It was unexpected news.”
    I harden into a statue, yet her words sink in past my shock. More surgeries. More time in the hospital. “Is she going to walk again?”
    “I don’t know.”
    I rub my eyes to readjust my equilibrium. This is my fault. If I had found another way to handle things, Rachel wouldn’t be