Chapter 230 - What He Owes
Zac kept both hands on Dylan’s steering wheel because reaching for Roxie would only give her another chance to pull away.
The first time his fingers touched hers, she moved her hand into her lap. Since then, she had remained turned toward the passenger window, watching the houses and trees pass without saying anything.
The picnic basket shifted across the back seat whenever Zac slowed. Most of the sandwiches were still inside it. Roxie had eaten until he mentioned Mr. Robinson’s money, then her appetite disappeared along with the good part of the afternoon.
He should have kept his mouth shut.
He had seen her rubbing her thumb against her finger after Ava mentioned VCU. Roxie did that whenever she started calculating. Zac had watched the same movement at the grill, beside gas pumps, and in grocery aisles. She counted money even when she had no bills in her hand, her face becoming still while she decided which expense she could delay.
She told him she could handle VCU herself.
The electric bill sat on the bungalow counter, and the refrigerator had been nearly empty that morning. Zac had used the last eggs for breakfast and most of the remaining bread for their picnic. An open sleeve of crackers sat near the sink because Roxie had eaten from it the day before.
She needed groceries, gas, cheer expenses, and whatever VCU required before she even stepped onto campus. Babysitting for the Robinsons was probably finished, and the grill barely paid enough even when she took every shift they offered.
Now she wanted another job before State.
Zac tightened his hands around the wheel.
Roxie already left school for practice and practice for the grill. Some nights she came home smelling like grease and dish soap, too tired to shower before opening her homework at the kitchen table. She skipped meals and called it forgetting because admitting she had no food sounded worse.
Mr. Robinson owed her eighteen years of meals, clothes, school supplies, and every dollar Claire had taken.
Zac hated the man.
He still wanted Roxie to take everything he offered.
That was the part she heard as betrayal.
A week earlier, Zac would have bought the groceries himself. He would have paid the electric bill and ordered whatever Roxie needed for VCU without checking the total. Arthur’s cards had always worked, and there had always been cash in Zac’s wallet, gas in the truck, and another vehicle in the driveway.
Zac had treated all of it like it belonged to him.
Then Arthur took the SUV and the truck. The card in Zac’s wallet was useless unless he wanted his father tracking every purchase. Nearly everything he owned sat inside one duffel on Dylan’s floor.
He had planned Tennessee believing he would take care of Roxie. He imagined an apartment, a job, football, and school. He pictured her studying at a table without overdue bills beside her and opening cabinets that held enough food. She would have enough gas to drive to class and work without choosing between them.
Now he could barely give her a picnic made from the last food inside her own bungalow.
Mr. Robinson could provide everything Zac had planned with one bank transfer.
"You missed the turn."
Zac looked ahead and realized the entrance to the bungalow was already behind them.
"Shit."
He checked the road and turned around.
Roxie remained facing the window. "I thought you knew where I lived."
"I was thinking."
"That usually causes problems."
There was no smile in her voice.
Zac almost told her he had been thinking about her, but everything he said lately became something she had to defend herself against.
He drove back toward the bungalow and turned into the yard.
A black Tesla SUV sat beside the porch.
Zac stopped Dylan’s car and stared through the windshield. The clean paint reflected the bungalow, the surrounding trees, and part of the older car they had borrowed. Mr. Robinson stood beside the driver’s door with a folder tucked beneath one arm and a key card in his hand. Another man waited inside a sedan near the road.
Roxie stopped moving beside Zac.
"What the hell is that?"
She opened her door before he answered.
Zac shut off the engine and followed her. His ribs pulled when he climbed out, but Roxie was already crossing the yard.
She stopped several feet from Mr. Robinson and looked from him to the SUV.
"What is this?"
Mr. Robinson held out the key card. "It’s for you. The paperwork is ready, and the vehicle, insurance, and registration will be transferred to your name once you sign."
"No."
"I expected you to say that."
"Then take it away."
Mr. Robinson lowered the key card but remained beside the vehicle.
Zac looked over the Tesla again. The car Roxie had been using was borrowed, and Dylan’s car belonged to Dylan. This one could take her to school, practice, work, VCU, and wherever she went after graduation without her asking anyone for a ride.
Mr. Robinson opened the folder. "I also prepared an account for you. I’ll cover the property taxes on the bungalow, the utilities, groceries, school expenses, and college. Any college you choose. This has nothing to do with Tennessee."
Roxie folded her arms tighter around herself.
Each expense disappeared as Mr. Robinson named it.
Relief should have come first. Roxie could stop counting grocery money. She could apply to schools without calculating how many shifts each fee would cost. She could leave the grill if the hours started interfering with State or college.
Instead, Zac understood that Roxie no longer needed him to drive her anywhere.
Mr. Robinson could give her stability. Ethan came when she called and knew how to help until Zac arrived and made everything worse. Zac had bruises, lies, and a duffel on Dylan’s floor.
Yesterday, Roxie needed him for a ride.
Today, she had a car of her own.
He hated himself for noticing.
Roxie barely glanced at the Tesla. Her attention stayed on Mr. Robinson.
"Does Cynthia know?"
His grip tightened around the folder. "I told her last night."
"After you left here?"
"Yes."
Roxie waited, but Mr. Robinson said nothing else.
"What did she say?"
Mr. Robinson glanced toward Zac before looking back at Roxie. "She was shocked. I told her who you are and explained why I stayed involved without telling either of you."
"That isn’t what I asked."
"She needs time to understand everything."
The answer changed Roxie’s face.
"She needs time?"
"It was a lot for her to hear."
Roxie gave a short laugh that held no humor. "What did you tell her about me?"
"I told her the truth came as a shock to you and that you were upset."
"You told her I screamed at you and threw you out."
"I didn’t make you sound unreasonable."
"You won’t even tell me what she said."
Mr. Robinson pressed his lips together. Whatever Cynthia had said, he had already decided Roxie would never hear it from him.
Zac watched her understand.
Roxie wanted to know that Cynthia had asked whether she was okay. She wanted to hear that Cynthia blamed her husband for waiting eighteen years. She wanted every meal, ride, and quiet act of kindness inside the Robinson house to remain real.
Mr. Robinson offered no reassurance.
"She doesn’t want me near Jason," Roxie said.
"I never said that."
"Then tell me I’m wrong."
He looked down at the folder.
Roxie’s arms tightened across her stomach. "She didn’t take it well."
"She needs time."
The words landed harder the second time.
Roxie stared at him. "She gets time to deal with me existing?"
"This is about what I did. It isn’t about you."
"Then why are you protecting whatever she said?"
"Because my marriage is still my responsibility."
"And I’m what? The thing that happened to it?"
"No."
"What, then? Is it my fucking fault for being born?"
Mr. Robinson’s face tightened. "Roxxane."
"You came into my house and told me everything at once. You told me you were my father, Jason was my brother, and Claire had taken three thousand dollars every month. Then you left me alone with it. Now Cynthia gets time because knowing I exist is hard for her."
"She has a right to process what I did."
"So did I."
Mr. Robinson lowered the folder. "I should have handled yesterday differently."
"You should have handled eighteen years differently."
Roxie turned toward the Tesla. The vehicle no longer looked like a gift. Zac could see that in the way she stared at it. It had become something Mr. Robinson brought after returning home and explaining Roxie to his wife.
"So this is because Cynthia knows."
"No. I already planned to provide for you."
"Yesterday you offered money. Today you brought a car."
"You need transportation, and you need security."
"You needed to show your wife you were fixing your mistake."
"That isn’t why I bought it."
Mr. Robinson stepped forward, but Roxie immediately moved back. He stopped before Zac needed to step between them.
Roxie pointed at the Tesla. "Take it."
"I can’t return the years I missed."
"So you bought a car."
"I’m trying to give you what should have been yours."
"I never asked you for anything."
"You shouldn’t have had to."
Roxie’s face tightened.
Zac had said almost the same thing at Raven’s Point. She heard the words from Mr. Robinson now and looked as though both of them had decided her refusal meant nothing.
"Leave," she said.
Mr. Robinson removed a thick envelope from the folder. "The account information is inside. The card will activate after you complete the paperwork."
"I don’t want that either."
"I’m leaving it here."
"No, you aren’t."
Mr. Robinson looked at Zac and held the envelope toward him.
"Make sure she has what she needs."
The sentence struck harder than Zac expected.
Mr. Robinson was giving him money to care for Roxie. He was placing food, bills, school, and college into Zac’s hands.
Everything Zac had planned to provide himself.
Everything he could no longer afford.
"Don’t take it," Roxie said.
Zac looked at her.
Her eyes were angry, but he remembered the electric bill and the empty refrigerator. He remembered the way she started counting money the moment Ava mentioned VCU. He remembered Roxie describing how she once broke crackers into smaller pieces to make them last.
Mr. Robinson kept the envelope extended between them.
"Zac."
He took it.
Roxie became completely still.
The envelope felt heavier than paper. Zac looked at Mr. Robinson because he could not look at her.
"I’ll keep it safe."
Mr. Robinson nodded.
That small movement made Zac feel worse.
The man probably still saw him as Arthur Prescott’s son. The wealthy quarterback with vehicles, money, and a future waiting for him. He had no idea Zac was sleeping on Dylan’s couch or that nearly everything Zac owned fit inside one bag.
Zac let him believe it.
Mr. Robinson placed the key card and folder on the porch table. "An electrician can install the charger after the paperwork is completed."
"I never asked for any of this," Roxie said.
"I know."
"Go home to Cynthia. She needs time."
Mr. Robinson flinched.
Roxie turned her back on him and faced the bungalow.
He remained beside the Tesla for several seconds, but she never looked around. He eventually walked toward the sedan and climbed into the passenger seat.
Zac watched the vehicle leave.
The Tesla remained in the yard, the paperwork sat on the porch table, and the envelope stayed in his hand. Mr. Robinson had left behind enough money to change Roxie’s life, yet Zac felt as though nothing had improved.
"Give me that," Roxie said.
Zac approached and held out the envelope.
She grabbed it and shoved it against his chest.
"I told you not to take it."
"I know."
"You had no right, but you did it anyway."
She pushed it against him again. Zac caught the envelope before it dropped between them.
"Put it inside," he said.
"I want him to take it back."
"He’s already gone."
"Then let me throw it away."
Zac looked down at the envelope and pictured the crackers on the counter.
"No."
Roxie stared at him. "What?"
"Keep it somewhere until you’ve calmed down."
"I am calm."
"You want to throw away enough money to pay for college."
"That’s my choice."
"You were talking about getting another job before State."
"That’s my problem."
"You barely have food."
"I can buy food."
Zac almost asked how, but he stopped before the words left him.
Roxie noticed.
"Say it."
"I’m trying to keep this from becoming another fight."
"Then stop acting like he was right."
"I’m not on his side."
"You told me to take his money at Raven’s Point. Now you accepted it after I told you not to."
"Because he owes you."
"I don’t want anything from him."
"He sent Claire three thousand dollars every month because it was supposed to support you. She took it, and he never checked where it went. None of that changes the fact that the money was meant for you."
"He can’t buy his way into my life."
"Then don’t let him."
Roxie’s eyes narrowed.
Zac tightened his hold on the envelope. "Take the car. Take the money. Let him pay every bill he ignored for eighteen years. You never have to call him Dad or invite him into this house."
"You make it sound easy."
"It isn’t easy."
"You’re acting like accepting it won’t change anything."
"It changes whether you have food."
Her face heated. "That has nothing to do with you."
"I know."
"Stop saying that while making decisions for me."
Zac drew in a breath. Everything he said pushed her farther away, but he could no longer pretend she was fine.
"You want me to say you can handle your own life. You can. You’ll take more shifts, skip meals, pay the electric bill, and tell everyone you forgot to eat. You’ll handle it until your body gives up because that’s what handling things means to you."
Roxie looked away.
"That isn’t the same as believing I can do it."
Zac watched her close herself off. Her anger had given him something to answer, but her silence left him outside again.
"He can be a stranger who pays what he owes," Zac said.
Roxie looked toward the road where Mr. Robinson’s sedan had disappeared.
"And Cynthia?"
Zac had no answer.
Roxie swallowed before continuing. "She fed me. She trusted me with Jason. She told me I was part of their family. What does she owe me now?"
"She didn’t know."
"I know she didn’t know. That’s why it mattered."
Her voice weakened.
"Now she knows what I am, and she needs time."
"She might call."
Roxie gave another quiet laugh. "You don’t believe that."
Zac stayed silent.
"You think she hates me too."
"No."
"You saw his face."
"I saw him protecting his marriage."
"Again."
Zac could not argue with that.
Roxie took the envelope from his hand and walked toward the bungalow. Zac followed her inside while she carried it into the kitchen and placed it on the counter beside the electric bill.
"Leave it there," she said.
She stood at the sink with both hands pressed against the edge while Zac closed the door behind them.
The envelope sat beside the bill.
If Roxie refused to use the account, Zac could still buy groceries with it. He could pay the electricity and fill the cabinets. Mr. Robinson’s money would cover everything, but Zac could still be the one who carried the bags inside and made sure she ate.
The thought made him feel sick.
It also made him reach for the envelope.
Roxie turned from the sink. "What are you doing?"
"Putting it somewhere safe."
"I told you to leave it there."
"It’ll get buried under the bills."
"No, it won’t."
Zac opened the drawer where Claire had kept cash, receipts, and overdue notices.
Roxie stepped closer, but her voice remained quiet when she spoke.
"You’re doing it again."
Zac kept one hand on the drawer. "Doing what?"
"Deciding for me. Controlling me because you think you know what I need better than I do."
He looked at her.
The anger remained in her eyes, but she appeared too exhausted to turn it into another fight.
Every reason forming inside Zac’s head sounded like Arthur.
You need it.
I know better.
You’ll understand later.
Zac looked at the nearly empty refrigerator and then at the electric bill beside his hand.
He placed the envelope inside the drawer.
Roxie stared at him. "I said I don’t want it."
Zac closed the drawer.
"You will."
The certainty in his voice turned his stomach.
Roxie’s face emptied. She walked past him and disappeared into the bedroom without another word.
Zac stayed beside the drawer.
Mr. Robinson’s money now sat where Claire had once kept everything she took from Roxie.
Zac told himself he was protecting her.
Arthur had probably told himself the same thing.