The Fight for Us (3 page)

She could see Isaiah’s hand fisting and unfisting on the arm of the chair beside her, and she clenched her jaw tight to rein in her anger and confusion.

“Joselyn—”

“It’s Joss, please.” She took a deep breath, looking up to Johnson.

“Very well. Joss. I know Harper. She was a star student her eighth grade year, and she’s never been one to be mean. She won a Character Counts Award last year for crying out loud! I know this isn’t her, but it is her when she’s around Lena and Jen. She wasn’t friends with them last year, and now that she’s a freshman… Well, I don’t know what happened between last year and this year, but they’re suddenly thick as thieves, and Harper is picking up some very bad traits from them. You know, it’s not always ideal in these small school systems like ours when all grade levels are in one building. A lot of the behavior issues you see in the high schoolers tend to trickle down to the younger ones coming up due to their close proximity. It would seem Lena and Jen have picked up some of these rather disturbing behaviors, and Harper has gotten herself pulled into the mix. Now you two can keep this to yourselves, but I’m not surprised Lena and Jen are causing problems for a new student. I was worried about them from the get go, but I
am
surprised to see Harper in the mix.”

Joss stared at Johnson’s desktop. Her anger was faltering, and her brow furrowed as she imagined her daughter being one of
those
kids—the kind of kid that made other kids’ lives a living hell. “It can’t possibly be that bad. Harper is—” She realized a bit too late that her statement could easily be seen as inflammatory by the still fist clenching man beside her. She hadn’t intended for it to be, but damn hindsight was kicking her in the teeth.

“Oh, it can’t?”

Her eyes flashed to Isaiah’s dark furious ones as he snapped at her. She was guessing he was handsome, but at the moment he looked a bit too much like he wanted to kill her for her to appreciate the aesthetics.

“How bad does it need to be to warrant your attention? Huh? They call her ugly. They call her fat. They taunt her, trip her, and mock her every chance they get! She has no friends here. Don’t you get it? Don’t you get how awful this is for Natalie, or are you too self-absorbed to understand what this can do to a girl her age? She’s dealt with enough the past couple years, and she deserves to come here and be tormented? How bad does it need to be for you to pay attention? Or are you too damn busy to pay attention to what your own daughter is doing just like you were too damn busy to get to this meeting on time?” He stood then, glaring down at her.

He stared, and she forced herself to stare right back, but she could barely swallow over the lump in her throat. When he finally glanced to Johnson and broke contact with her, she inhaled through her nose, slowly letting it back out.

“I really shouldn’t have stayed for this. All I want to do is strangle her for being this stupid.” Then he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Fix this.” He was eying Principal Johnson, and Johnson nodded slightly before Isaiah turned to leave, but he didn’t leave, and as he paused looking down at her again, he opened his mouth. “Imagine it was your daughter.”

And then he was gone, and she finally managed to swallow the lump down.

Chapter Two

Isaiah entered the gymnasium, scanning the large room quickly. Natalie was sitting alone on the bleachers on the other side of the room. Natalie had always loved volleyball, and given her height, she was pretty damn good at it—even for a freshman. When she’d come home after her first day at Bristol High School wanting to sign up, there was little more to discuss.

He’d actually been stupid enough to be optimistic for her. He’d had no idea how much things could disintegrate in only two weeks’ time. Harper was on the team as well, but the other two pariahs were thankfully not. As he walked toward Natalie¸ he scanned the other team members. Some were practicing their spike on the net, others were setting to one another, and some were simply milling about in small groups chatting. Not his Natalie though. She belonged to no groups, and she sat alone trying to appear as though it wasn’t painful. He knew better.

His attention moved from one to the other of the girls on the team, looking for something similar to Joss’s straight dark brown hair and pale skin. Joss had blue eyes, and her stature was quite small given her harsh demeanor, so he wasn’t looking for an Amazon woman by any means. When his eyes lit on a small, young teen who was practicing setting over the net with another team member, his attention caught on her. She was a good six inches shorter than his daughter, if not more. She looked far younger too, though they were in the same grade. But it was the stark bright blue eyes against the dark hair that gave her away. She looked oddly innocent. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but he had to admit, fair or not, he’d been expecting something loosely resembling a monster of some sort.

Natalie waved sheepishly at him as he crossed the court to her, and when he sat beside her, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew her well, she was his daughter after all, and he knew just how uncomfortable she was most of the time. Her sigh was nothing more than utter relief to see him. It broke his heart for her more than he cared to admit. She was supposed to be embarrassed by him, want him to disappear, want to pretend she didn’t know him. What she wasn’t supposed to want was for him to be around.

“Tough day?” He didn’t bother looking at her when he said it. It usually made the barely restrained emotion boil into tears that would sit on her lower eyelids at the ready. The ready usually ended in a stream of tears down her face with whatever words of encouragement he came up with. He wasn’t going to do that to her here—not here in a gymnasium full of girls who would remember her tears for far longer than the memory deserved to be held onto.

“How was practice?”

“Okay.” She stood and grabbed the bag at her feet, stepping over the bleacher in front of her to the floor.

He followed and then paused as the click of heels on the hard floor caught his attention. She was there—the woman he’d spent the past twenty minutes yelling at. She was walking on the other side of the court, but her eyes were zoned in on him. She really was quite striking—dark brown hair that was glossy and shined under the bright overhead lights. Her skin was entirely too pale, aside from the small pink scar that ran across her chin. And her eyes popped with color akin to the brightest, cloudless winter sky.

Her gaze trailed away from him only to return moments later. Her hands were finally somewhere other than her hips, and she looked far less harsh at this distance with one arm slung protectively across her stomach and her other raised as she mindlessly worried the small gnarl of scar tissue on her chin. She was uncomfortable, nervous even as he watched her, and when her head suddenly whipped toward the miniature version of herself that approached, those nerves seemed to ratchet up a notch. Her gaze bounced between her daughter and him as she likely judged just how much of a threat he might be. For good reason—at least from her perception. He
had
called her daughter a bitch after all. He shouldn’t have done that. He very definitely should not have done that.

“Dad, can we go now?” Nat was tugging on his arm as he struggled to pull his attention away from Joss, and he shook his head when he finally turned and followed his daughter. He wanted to finish this. He didn’t want to worry one more moment that Natalie was going to be emotionally abused and ridiculed every time she walked out the door, and it felt very much like defeat as he walked away.

They walked across the parking lot in silence, and when they climbed into his SUV, he adjusted his rearview mirror, catching sight of Joss and Harper as they exited the side door of the gymnasium. He froze staring at them. He watched as they moved together. She was neither speaking nor berating her daughter in any way, and for whatever reason, the defeat he’d felt mere minutes before turned into anger again—anger that her daughter’s actions could go unchecked.

“Nat, stay put. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond before climbing back out of his SUV and walking toward Joss and her daughter.

The moment Joss’s eyes took him in, she leaned to Harper’s ear, and the girl’s forehead scrunched up in what appeared to be confusion until she finally ran off toward what he could only assume was their car. Joss watched him, and he studied her as his stride closed the space between them quickly. Her arms had crossed on her chest again, and he simply watched, waiting for her to strike the pose. She didn’t let him down as she postured, planting her hands on her hips, and he chuckled. It was humorless and more sadistic and cruel than he actually was, but she made him want to be all sorts of sadistic with her.

“Listen—”

“No, you listen.” His voice was quiet and his head angled in a deceptively casual way to hide his real intent from anyone, including their children who were likely watching. “I don’t give a shit about a damn word you have to say until you figure out how to control your daughter.”

Her mouth dropped open as he held his focus on her.

“How would you like it if it was your daughter—your daughter they made fun of every day? You think your child is somehow above reproach? You think there isn’t plenty that could be said about her? Let me guess, you’re one of those parents who think their child can do no wrong. Huh? If you’re not willing to put her in her place, don’t think for a second I won’t.” He was threatening her, and by the look on her face, it was quite effective. “Perhaps I should remind her that she’s no more perfect than she and her friends think Nat should be.”

Joss’s eyes bulged as he sneered venomously at her, and he enjoyed her fear for the sake of his daughter, appropriate or not.

He wasn’t really going to talk to Harper at all, but it was an effective threat, and one he knew Joss would put a stop too. His hope was that she would get the point and drive that point home with her daughter.

When he started to step past her, her hand suddenly met his stomach, pushing gently into his abdominals. “You will not speak to my daughter! I will handle this on my own.”

There was little hope she could actually hold him back if he wished to follow through with his threat, but he had no real interest in carrying this out much further. Her breath left her in a rush of panic, and he took the opportunity to reassert himself one more time.

“Get your
fucking
hand off me.” He snarled, and her hand instantly retracted as she balked at him. “You tell your daughter to stay the hell away from Natalie.” He stared at her, refusing to look away, and as her cell phone started ringing, she pulled it from her pocket. He turned then, walking away as he listened to her answer the phone.

Moments later, he heard her mutter, “Fucking Randall,” to no one in particular, and then he was out of earshot, determined to put her out of his mind.

He’d only just put the car into gear when Nat asked, “Dad, why were you talking to Harper’s mom?”

“We met with Principal Johnson this afternoon—”

“
Daaaad
!”

The word cut him off before he could explain anything more.

“Why would you talk to Principal Johnson?”

“What do you mean why? Because this has to stop! That’s why.”

She was glaring at him with her arms crossed and leaning against the passenger door. This was Nat’s best shame-on-you-Dad look, and he softened instantly. He knew this was hard on her.

“Their parents need to know what is going on, and they need to do something about it. You can’t pretend this isn’t happening and expect it to get better. It’s going to get better. I promise.” His words were obviously no comfort to her as she continued to sulk. “Would you feel better if I bought you a banana split?” He tried to smile at her as he drove out of the school parking lot, but she just scowled.

“I’m fat, Dad. I don’t need ice cream!”

“You’re not fat. I can’t stand that word, and I don’t want to hear you say—”

“You can’t stand that your daughter is fat?” She suddenly sounded furious.

“Stop! I can’t stand that word being used to describe a person. It’s never said in any way that’s not demeaning, and I can’t stand hearing you refer to yourself that way. It’s a cruel word, and referring to anyone in that way is wrong.” Shit. He was lecturing again.

“Gee, sorry, Dad. I’m portly. I’m round. I’m husky. What difference does it make?”

She looked out the window at Lake Superior. The clouds were coming in, and he could literally see the gloom coming with it.

“Ever since mom… I just… I eat. I hate it.”

She’d gained weight. He wasn’t denying that, but she was going through a lot, and it was directly linked to her unhappiness. He wanted to fix
that
—not her fucking weight. The rest would reconcile itself if she could just be content and at peace. He knew that. He didn’t care what she looked like, but he also knew he was seeing a symptom of all the things wrong in her life, and he hated it.

They ended up settling on salads from the deli and taking them home. Home only consisted of a small two-bedroom cottage at the moment. He’d rented it a month back when they moved to the island. He wasn’t ready to call this place their permanent home, but he wanted to. He wanted this sleepy little coastal island to be their place in the world, but he was waiting. He needed to know they could hack it here, that she could hack it here, before he could make that commitment, and at the moment, he wasn’t convinced.

They sat silently at the table as the darkness started closing in around the small little cottage buried in the woods. The island was only four miles wide at the most, and they didn’t even have a lake view. But it was temporary. The trees rustled outside as the wind picked up, and as the first of the rain started to fall, the silence between them became even more pronounced.

It hadn’t always been so quiet. Once upon a time, they’d had a home filled with noise. A home like most others in the world. They’d rushed around trying desperately to keep the wheels on the American dream they were living. Jobs had eaten up time, school activities too, and it had been exhausting, but what it hadn’t been was silent. There had simply been no time for silence in their busy, hectic world. It had been a far different world than he knew now.