Beneath His Touch

Chapter Nineteen

JAVAN

"Hey bro, where are you? Mom is so worried," Lidya's voice cracks with emotion as she bursts into tears on the other end of the line. I've ignored her calls all day, waiting until I finally reached Naivasha to answer.

"I just need some space, you know? Time to clear my head," I reply, keeping my voice steady, trying to sound calm despite the weight pressing on my chest.

"Couldn't you come home instead? I really miss you," her voice softens, making my heart clench.

"Come on, it's only been two days, sis," I say, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle, "I'll be back before you know it."

There's a pause. The silence hangs between us, almost too heavy to bear.

"Lidya, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she finally responds, her voice quieter now. "Mom just passed by."

I exhale slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. "I figured. I'll give her a call later, don't worry."

There's another silence, but this time, it's filled with her unspoken concern.

"How long will you be gone?" she asks, her voice tentative.

"I'm not sure yet. It's just a small gig," I say, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can sense her disappointment even over the phone.

A soft sigh escapes her, and I can picture her sitting there, shoulders slumped. "Okay, probably three days, give or take," I add with a forced laugh, trying to ease her worries.

"Alright," she whispers, and before I can say more, I hang up.

It's been two days since I returned, and now it's Friday, the twentieth. There's this nagging, uneasy feeling like something's about to go down. I can't shake it, but I don't know why. I've avoided going home—just wasn't ready to face Mom or deal with Nick. Phone calls have been enough for now, and I'm definitely not in the mood for one of Nick's lectures.

Oh right, I haven't even explained who Nick really is—my bad. Nick's a cop, but not just any cop. He goes after corrupt politicians, the ones who have dirtied their hands in the system. Truth be told, I don't even know the full extent of what he does. He went to school with my old man, and for some reason, they despise each other.

And yeah, just like you probably guessed, Nick's gunning for my father. Wants to take him down, but the old man is crafty. I'm not blind to his shady side, but I try to stay out of it. That being said, I did help Nick once, tried to dig up some dirt on the old man. It ended with Mom in the hospital, and she never pressed charges. Since then, I've learned to keep my head down and mind my business. I can't hit him, can't involve the cops, and honestly, I have no idea what to do. So I take it all out on the pitch. Every opponent is my father, every strike feels like a punch aimed at him. I guess that's what's made me strong.

I hate that part of me, but I love my mom and sister more than anything. So, I have to be this person—cold, distant, and hardened.

"Ball!" Elly's voice rings out, jolting me back to reality. The ball rolls toward me, and I instinctively leap to grab it as he claps his hands. I shrug off my jacket and head to the pitch, launching the ball his way with a quick roll. He catches it, fakes a move, then kicks it forward. I chase after it, leaping to grab it midair, the adrenaline firing through me like electricity.

I'm back on my feet, gripping the ball in my left hand. I throw a right fake, then roll it back to Elly.

"You're slow, bro!" he shouts, launching it high.