Page 41 of The Other Side of Wild
They get back up on their benches and let the rest of the group take their shots before hopping out and trading places with some of the football guys. My eyes tingle at the memory of how these tanks got here, how it was supposed to be a competition between Greyson and I to see who would get dunked more. I didn’t even care that it’d probably be me because he was so excited about it.
My thoughts are cut short by a throat clearing behind me; turning around, I come face to face with Brett Wilson. “Would you like to get in the dunk tank with me next? A little dude named Cade said you paid for his season next year, and he wants to thank you by dropping you in water.”
My hands find my hips as I fake my offense. “Well, that doesn’t seem like a very nice thank you. But sure, let’s do it.”
I’m a ball of emotion, happiness mixed with a bit of sadness. Child-like joy mixed with fear. But right now, the most potent emotion is gratitude. I am grateful to my boss for giving me this opportunity, grateful for the guys for showing up. Grateful for the smiles plastered on these kids' faces.
Before I know it, it’s our turn to get in.I plaster a smile on my face and sit on the bench facing the kids, some of the athletes, Amy, who's holding her phone up to capture the whole thing, and my mom, who looks the most relaxed I’ve seen her in years.
By the time Brett and I hop out, I’ve been dunked five times, and he’s been dunked twelve. Apparently, it’s more fun to dunk the brick wall who purposely makes a huge splash than it is to dunk the girl who looks like a stick in comparison. Not that I’m complaining. It was a lot of fun. The kids loved it, and that’s truly all that matters.
Chapter 22 - Hannah
The night was in full swing; the last time I checked, we were more than halfway to our goal. I checked in with my boss, did some rounds checking in with the vendors to see how they were doing, played some games with the kids, and now I’m headed to Abby’s physical therapy tent because Cade asked if I’d teach him how to ice an injury. He’s been my little shadow since I got out of the tank. When we get there, my jaw drops.
There, sitting on Abby’s table is Tatum with his shirt off while Abby shows some kids how to wrap for a shoulder injury. Before either of them sees me, I quickly snap a picture. Tatum is his normal broody self. Abby giggles when one of the kids asks a question.
I grab Cade’s hand and walk him over. “Hey guys!” Alerting them to my presence. Tate lifts his chin in acknowledgment, and Abby smiles, not stopping her demonstration. “Cade here wants to know how to ice an injury, but I need to run to the bathroom. Can he help you?”
“Why, of course! Come here, little dude.” Abby lifts him up, placing him on his butt, facing Tatum on the table. This little boy’s smile is so infectious; he gets grumpy gills to smile and that’s a win. Abby clearly catches it as the tips of her ears turn pink, and she quickly refocuses on her wrapping.Interesting.
Walking away, I think about texting Grey but decide against it. If he wanted to talk, he’d let me know. I’m on my way back to the therapy tent when I’m forcibly pushed back into a corner between the water fountains and the bathroom door. My head hits the wall with a thud as my eyes squeeze shut, “Ouch!” I squeak out. My vision blurred for a second.
“So you’re the little girl who thinks she’s going to take G away from me?” My eyes focus on a woman a few inches taller than me with dirty blonde hair and deep brown eyes that are so dark and lifeless that they remind me of my fathers.
“I’m sorry. Who are you, and who is G?” I’m fairly certain I know the answer to that. There’s just something about her bully attitude that brings out my own claws.
“Don’t play dumb, little girl, it’s unbecoming.”Holy Cannoli. Did I hear that right?“I’m Kara, the future Mrs. Wilder.” Her tone dripping in annoyance, like I should already know who she is.
A laugh tumbles out of me, it’s uncontrollable. The audacity of this woman. My laugh grows louder, more unhinged, and soon, I have my hand braced on the wall, head shaking as I look at the ground. I know this is not how I should be handling this situation, but I can’t help it. I’ve finally snapped.
My dad pulled the same crap. “Don’t be coy, Hannah. It isn’t cute. How am I supposed to get you out of the house when you have the mouth and attitude of a sailor?”
I’ve had eight years to build some tougher skin, eight years to decipher all the crap that man spoke over my life—eight years to recognize the signs of a narcissist. There’s only so much death someone can speak over your life before it becomes your reality. I’ve been to this circus once before, and I have no desire to go again.
I pull myself together enough to stand up straight, meeting her glare with confidence I am completely faking. “I’m sorry. Yeah, I’ve heard about you, Kara.” Her chest puffs up like I’m about to pay her the biggest compliment. Her smugness makesmy next words that much more satisfying.
“I heard you used someone’s biggest desire to try to keep a good man trapped. I heard you kept him from his family. I heard you didn’t like Florida because it made you look like a “naked mole rat,” but here you are. In Florida. For what, exactly?” Her face dropped when she realized I had nothing nice to say about her.
Trying to keep my confident posture even though I feel like I could puke, I look her in the eye and wait for her next move. One that she’s currently trying to figure out. Her sneer returns, uglier, more venomous this time. “Listen, you worthless rag doll, you may think you're a big man on campus. Working with athletes all day, getting them to trust you, letting you into their inner circle. But I see right through your façade. And eventually, so will Greyson. You’re just a placeholder; he’ll come to his senses eventually.”
Her words were meant to cut, but the don’t. I’ve heard worse from people who have mattered more. I tilt my head, getting my thoughts together before responding. “Respectfully, or maybe disrespectfully, that’s his decision. The fact that he won’t talk to you, that you had to fly all the way out here to try to get his attention, tells me everything I need to know. And even if it didn’t, I know how he feels about you. And it isn’t anywhere close to ‘future Mrs. Wilder’ status.”
I barely finish my sentence before the back of her hand meets my cheek. Her ring cuts into my cheek; the sting is enough to have me digging my nails into my palms to keep from giving her the reaction she’s looking for.
I square my shoulders, meeting her icy glare, my voice strong as steel. “Are you done?”
She starts to respond but is pulled backward while I’m pulled to the side. Looking up at the person whose arms I’m wrapped in, I come face to face with Mr. Wilder, his face a mask of fury that matches that of Tatum, who is towering over Kara.
“You so much as breathe the same air as her again, I will make sure you regret it.” His jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised he even got that out. Kara rolls her eyes, pushing one hip out and stomping the other foot like a petulant child.
“Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Tatum; this is between me and this thing.” Her words drip with disdain, and they hang in the air like a heavy rain cloud. I’ll give it to her, though; she doesn’t back down. I’m not sure she’s noticed Mr. Wilder, though, or maybe she has, and she straight up doesn’t care that the father of her “future husband” sees this awful side of her.
“You have a whole kid with someone else. And not just anyone, but Greyson’s old best friend.” His voice is low and dangerous. Oof, if I thought his behavior towards me was bad... This puts that to shame.
“There isn’t an ounce of hope for you. Even if there were, there wouldn’t be the with way you just spoke to another person and then backhanded her because she told you how it is. Both of my parents got a front-row seat for that.” He waves his arm in front of him, bringing her attention to Amy, who's standing next to my mom with a look that sends chills down my spine and makes me equally thankful I’m not on the receiving end of.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding; Greyson doesn’t have a kid. That means there’s still a chance for us. Right?