Chapter 54

Chapter 54: This is the end for me

GAVIN HAWKINS POV 

    The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time I arrived at her house after practice. I couldn’t wait until the next day to talk to her—to make things right.

    I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling, but I knew one thing: I wanted to see her again. The thought of her hating me didn’t sit right.

    Stepping out of my Jeep, I hurried toward the Spencers’ front door. The garden was in full bloom, fresh flowers sprouting up from the neatly kept beds. The neighborhood was lively with the distant sound of dogs barking, the occasional chatter from passing pedestrians.

    When I reached the porch, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I raised my hand to knock but froze. The thought of turning back echoed in my head. Instead, I stayed.

    Something felt off.

    Cautiously, I pushed the door open, its slow creak sending an eerie chill down my spine.

    The moment I stepped inside, an instinctual alarm went off in my head. Without thinking, I ducked—just in time—as a frying pan soared over me, crashing against the wall behind me.

    “Gosh!” Lyric’s aunt gasped, her shoulders slumping in relief as her chest heaved. She lowered the pan, letting out a shaky laugh. “I thought you were someone else.”

    I stood up straight, trying to steady my own breathing. “I’m sorry. The door was open, and I came in without knocking,” I admitted, guilt creeping up at the startled look on her face.

    She waved a dismissive hand, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt. “It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing for nearly knocking you unconscious.”

    I let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s nothing. I guess I had it coming.”

    She quirked a brow, sizing me up. “But those reflexes though… Are you a spy or something?”

    I laughed awkwardly, mouthing, Hockey.

    “Ohh,” she said, nodding in realization. “I forgot. No wonder you’re so built. You’re like a damn wall, kid.”

    “Uh… Thanks?” I replied, unsure if that was a compliment.

    My gaze drifted around the living room, and that’s when I finally took in the mess. It wasn’t just a normal mess—it was the kind of destruction that looked like someone had ransacked the place.

    “What happened here?” I asked, frowning.

    Lyric’s aunt let out a deep sigh and sank into a chair, motioning for me to take the one across from her. I hesitated before sitting down.

    “Debt collectors,” she muttered.

    A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. “Alessio’s men?”

    She nodded grimly. “Yes.”

    “Is he out of the hospital?”

    “He is,” she confirmed, her voice shaking slightly. “And he’s out for revenge. He wants me to pay for my husband’s debts… with my husband’s life.”

    I clenched my fists. “He did this?”

    “His men did.” She gestured vaguely at the wreckage around us. “They came searching for my husband and the million dollars he owed them.”

    A heavy silence settled between us. Her face turned red, her features scrunching up as if she were trying to hold back tears. But then, suddenly, she broke.

    A sob tore from her throat, and she palmed her face. “I’ve never seen that much money in my life, kid. How am I supposed to come up with that? By selling a kidney?” She let out a bitter laugh before sucking in a shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do. His men came to my office this morning, and I got fired from my job. They even went after my kids.”

    My stomach twisted. “You sent them somewhere?”

    “To my mother’s in the neighboring town,” she said, sniffling. “She told me some men followed her in Target, and now she’s too afraid to leave her house.”

    I hesitated before asking, “And Lyric?”

    Her expression darkened. “She went to find her uncle… and got beaten up. Some strange man brought her to my doorstep—unconscious.”

    A cold rage settled in my chest. Someone had hit Lyric. That explained the bruises on her face.

    “I don’t have anything to my name,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Nothing. This house technically belongs to Lyric, even though it was in her uncle’s name at the time. My children’s lives are at risk. I have no money, no place to go.” She shook her head in despair. “This is the end for me.”

    I had never been in a situation like this before—comforting someone who was completely breaking down. I didn’t know what to say or do. I felt helpless.

    But one thing was certain. That bastard had left his family in shambles and in debt. I was going to find him and hand him over to Alessio myself.

    “You can’t stay here tonight,” I said firmly.

    She let out a humorless laugh. “I have nowhere else to go. My father has a house in Boston, but it’s a long trip by bus.”

    “It’s not safe here,” I said, shaking my head. “Come stay at my place.”

    She blinked at me. “Huh?”

    “My house is on the outskirts of town. Barely anyone goes there. Even if it’s just for a night or two—until you figure out a way to leave for Boston.”

    She hesitated. “I can’t. Your parents—”

    “I don’t have parents, ma’am,” I interrupted gently. “My grandma left me the house when she passed.”

    Her lips parted as if to argue, but she hesitated. “Still… I just can’t—”

    “Please,” I insisted. “I want to help in any way I can. Lyric is a friend of mine, and I can’t just stand by and watch this happen.”

    She let out a shaky breath. Then, after a long pause, she nodded. “Thank you, son.”

    I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just nodded back. “Sure.”

    “Lyric is in her room with the kids,” she told me.

    As I made my way down the hallway toward Lyric’s room, a wave of nostalgia hit me. I had been here before. In this very room. The place where we had become… intimate.

    When I reached the doorway, I heard soft giggles from inside.

    I peeked in and saw Lyric sitting on the bed with the two girls, making animal shadow puppets against the wall. The kids eagerly guessed the animals she created.

    “Bugs Bunny!” one of them shouted excitedly.

    Lyric’s smile grew, and she gave the girl a thumbs-up.

    “Auntie Lyric, I’m bored,” one of them whined. “Let’s play the magician game!”

    “No!” the other one protested. “Lana, you always want to play that game! I want this one!”

    “Shut up, Hanna!”

    The two girls began bickering, their identical faces scrunched up in frustration. I honestly didn’t know how Lyric could tell them apart.

    Lyric sighed and started signing to them.

    “Fine. Auntie has decided—we’re playing Magic Treat,” she communicated.

    “No fair!” the other girl pouted. “That’s not what I wanted!”

    Lyric signed again, trying to convince them. It worked. Soon, both girls were grinning.

    She got up and pulled open a drawer, retrieving a deck of cards. She shuffled them with practiced ease and spread them out in her hands.

    “Pick a card,” she signed.

    “Noooo!” one of them whined. “I don’t want to play this one! We’re too old for it! I want a real magic trick!”

    “Yes! Auntie, a real magic trick!”

    “A trick!”

    Suddenly, it became a full-on revolution, all three girls demanding a different magic trick. Lyric stood there, completely dumbfounded.

    I couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything, she still found a way to bring them joy.