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“Nate, what’s going on?” Robby approaches me too now. “You’re not yourself.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I say, taking a breath. “I’m just getting back in the game. Don’t worry.”
“You sure you can do this today?” Robby raises a brow at me.
“Yeah, why not? I’m just rusty from the summer, that’s all.” I laugh it off as though it’s no big deal, but the guys aren’t buying it.
Daryl clears his throat. “We heard about the trouble you had with your girl.” He scratches the back of his neck. “If you need more time to get your shit together, we get it, bro.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m fine,” I say, and I spit onto the field. “Quit hammering me and get on the field.”
I add a grin for good measure, and so do they, and I know they believe me.
Even if I don’t.
There’s too much at stake for me to fail. My scholarship, my pride. My dad’s respect … and my mother’s legacy. It’s always been her dream to see me play in the big leagues, and I gotta make it happen. For her.
Make Mom proud.
That’s always been my goal, even if I already broke my promise. I will make this happen, even if I have to set my soul on fire and burn in hell for it.
Bring the goddamn fire now.
Chapter 7
Sam
I pour myself a glass of Coke and slouch down on the couch with a bag of chips in one hand and the remote in the other. I flip through the channels until I find the best show to watch when you’re bored on a Monday evening; The Bachelor. A repeat broadcast, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less juicy.
Too bad a certain boy toy enters the room and spoils my fun. I can feel his judgmental stare. I don’t even have to look. He walks into the kitchen and pours himself a drink, then comes back into the living room and proceeds to stare at me.
“Shouldn’t you be at your friend’s?” he asks.
Goddamn, here we go again.
“Shouldn’t you be with your wife?” I quip.
His face turns red, and his eyes almost bulge out of his skull. “Excuse me? How dare you?”
“This isn’t your house,” I say. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“It’s not your house either,” he replies. “And your mom would not approve of you acting out like this.”
I lean up from the couch and put my bag of chips down. “What the hell is your problem?”
His jaw drops. “How dare—”
“No, you come into my house and try to lecture me. What I do is none of your business.”
He steps toward me, and I get up from the couch. I won’t let him intimidate me. I’ve got enough of those assholes at school already. “You don’t talk to me like that.”
“And you’re not my father, so don’t pretend to be,” I growl back.
“I still demand respect,” he says with a demanding tone that pushes all my buttons.
“I. Don’t. Care.” I’m about to explode if he doesn’t get out of my face soon. I don’t want to resort to throwing a bag of chips, but if that’s what it takes to get him to back the fuck off, I will. “Get out of my fucking house.”
He sneers at me, almost as if he’s ready for a fight. “It’s time someone taught you how to behave.”
“No! Stop.” Mom suddenly appears in the doorway, still dressed in her bathrobe as if she only just got out of bed. “Sam, Randy, please. Don’t argue.”
I fold my arms. “He started it. I was minding my own business.”
“She was acting like a brat,” he says.
I make a fist. “Who are you calling a goddamn brat?”
“Sam! Calm down,” Mom says. “I don’t tolerate swearing in my house. You know this is no way to behave.”
“But he’s been on my back ever since you’ve invited him in!” I say, turning toward her. “He won’t stop trying to get under my skin.”
“Sam …” She sighs.
“I’m not doing anything. I just asked her if she was still going to her friend’s or not,” he says.
“You didn’t ask that! You were meddling in my business, trying to get me to leave my own goddamn house. You don’t belong here.”
“Sam!” my mother’s stern voice forces me to look her in the eyes. “Don’t. I’m tired of you looking for a fight. I’m done. Done with this.”
Done … She’s done … not with him, with me.
“So that’s it?” I mumble, tears stinging my eyes. “You choose him over me then? Your new boy toy over your own flesh and blood?”
“Sam …”
But I don’t want to hear her words.
Instead, I march to the door and run outside, right into the cold, harsh rain. But I don’t care about being wet. I just want to get away from there … from that man and the mother who picks his side over mine.
I walk across the street and pull my hood up. I’ll still be soaking wet, but at least I won’t feel as if I’m being drenched in a downpour. The sun has disappeared behind the clouds, and all that’s left is one dark, damp mess. The streetlights guide me as I walk along the path, wandering around while trying to figure out where I could go.
Maybe Monica could pick me up. I could probably stay at her place for a few days if I explain it to her. I’m sure she’ll lie for me to cover my tracks.
I fumble in my pocket, searching for my phone. That’s when I realize I left it at home on the table, right next to the bag of chips I was eating when that son of a bitch walked in as if he owned the place.
Dammit.
And my car keys are in my schoolbag too, which I left right at the door.
Fucking smart, Sam, way to go.
I grunt out loud at my own stupidity.
Guess I’ll have to walk to her place then. I don’t think it’s too far. I’ve never gone on foot, but there’s a first time for everything because there’s no fucking way I’m going back home.
If I can still call it my home.
I never imagined my mom would drag it out that far, whatever it is that they have. I always thought it was a phase, and she’d eventually figure out she doesn’t need a man in her life to be happy because she has me. Maybe I don’t know my mom as well as I thought.
Or maybe she misses Dad just as much as I do.
I wipe away a few leftover tears and tell myself to stop being a little bitch. No amount of crying will change my mom’s choice, and it won’t bring back Dad either.
I pass a bench on the way, and my eyes flicker over the person sitting there. From underneath his dark hoodie, he looks up, and in an instant, our eyes connect … and my heart stops.
It’s Nate.
A million questions run through my mind. What’s he doing here? Is he here for me? Does he know where I live now? And is he going to hurt me?
I don’t know why these thoughts swirl around in my head. Maybe it’s the way he’s gazing at me with those fierce eyes … like a predator ready to hunt its prey.
“I know you saw me.”
The dark voice from underneath the hoodie gives me the chills.
“Do you have the pics?”
I freeze. My body feels numb.
“Where are they?” he asks.
If I tell him yes, he’ll want them. If I tell him no, it’s a lie.
Either way, this is bad news for me.
I shake my head.
I don’t want him to see the pictures. I don’t even want to see them again.
But I know why he’s looking for them.
Deep down, I knew this was coming.
So I walk.
I don’t look where I’m going; I just move. I have to get away from this dude. There’s no one on the streets but us. I’m not safe.
After a second, I glance over my shoulder. He’s right behind me.
Shit.
I walk faster, and with each couple of steps, I gaze over my shoulder to see if he’s still there, following me. He is.
I don’t know why I feel the ur
ge to flee, but I do. What am I running from? A simple boy from school? No, a varsity quarterback who can easily catch up with me. Knowing this, I still run like hell.
The farther we get, the faster I go. I feel like an animal, fleeing for its life. Why am I so scared? The images from that night in the sea flash through my mind. Me, underwater, taking pictures of the ocean floor and the fish swimming all around. Him wading into the water with a girl’s body in his hands.
No. I don’t want to think about it.
I shake my head and keep running, forcing the images to fade.
I have to focus on the here and now. He’s on my tail, running much faster than I am, and I have no way to shake him off. What do I do?
In a bout of courage, I turn around and stop in my tracks. He’s right in front of me, towering over me like a possessed demon.
“I don’t have them,” I say through gritted teeth. But on the inside, I’m cowering, fearful of what he may do. “Leave me alone.”
His eyes narrow. He doesn’t move.
Should I leave? Or wait until he does?
“Don’t lie,” he says, and his fist balls.
Shit.
He pushes me against a building and plants his hands on either side of me on the stone wall.
His dark eyes bore into mine from underneath the hoodie. Beads of water fall down his enticing lips. “Tell me where they are.”
“I don’t have them with me,” I say, licking my lips in an attempt to look like I don’t care. “They’re at home.”
His face turns dark, marred with rage … but also a whiff of excitement.
A vicious grin appears, and he leans in to whisper in my ear, “Where are they? On your laptop? In your closet? Under your pillow?” He snorts and grabs a strand of my hair, twirling it around with a gentleness that can only be described as sharp. “Maybe I should come with you … pay your bedroom a little visit. See what else you’re hiding.”
“No,” I say quickly, sucking in a breath when his eyes practically rip my heart out of my chest.
“No? You think you can keep the truth from me? I know what you saw,” he murmurs, inching closer and closer. “You were there in the ocean … swimming in your little blue thong and your tight bra that barely hides your nipples. What were you doing there all by yourself? Following me? Couldn’t tear your eyes away, could you? I’d remember eyes like yours forever.”
Fuck.
The way he talks about me and my body makes me shiver. I’ve never shivered for a boy. But he’s not just any boy.
“I’d love to see what’s underneath,” he whispers into my ear. “After you tell me where those goddamn pictures are.”
My eyes widen, and I shove him away. “Stop following me,” I say, “or I’ll call the cops.”
I tuck my hand into my pocket and make an indent, hoping he believes I’m carrying a phone.
He scowls at me, fists balled. Just a second ago, I thought he was going to grope me, and now I’m afraid he’ll hurt me if I don’t give him what he wants. But I can’t let him win.
He takes a step back. “I’ll make you regret that.”
I shake my head even though my heart is practically beating out of my chest. “Fuck you.”
A devilish grin appears on his face. “I’m sure you’d love to.”
Then he turns around and walks off.
Just like that.
Gone before I can even breathe and process what happened.
Chapter 8
Nate
When I sat down on that bench close to her house, I didn’t expect her to be home. I didn’t expect to watch her argue with her mom through the window. And I definitely didn’t expect her to walk out the door.
I was waiting. Waiting for an entry, a hint, anything that would get me closer to those pictures because I know they exist. I knew it the moment I saw her that day, the flash from her camera reflecting off the sea.
But I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.
And then she showed up at my school.
Just like that, as though she’d always been there.
Maybe she has, and maybe I didn’t pay enough attention. Well, I am now.
I don’t know what compelled me to follow her like that, but I needed to find out if she still had the pictures and where they were. I want nothing more than to have them in my possession and erase everything about that night from this goddamn planet.
But life doesn’t always go exactly the way we want it to.
I scared her off. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rough, so arrogant … so crude.
I wanted to intimidate her, to make her feel small and powerless.
I liked it.
I liked seeing her cower underneath me. Those trembling lips begging me to release her made me want to do the opposite. I wanted to claim them as mine. I remember her in the sea, swimming with that camera, and those eyes boring straight into my soul. It was all I could look at while I sat there on the beach with Nina.
Nina … who isn’t here anymore because of me.
* * *
Sam
When the door opens, and Mo’s face appears, I almost lose it.
“Oh, my God … Sam, you’re soaked,” she says as she ushers me inside. “C’mon.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, shivering. But I don’t know if it’s from the cold or from what just happened with Nate. I never imagined I’d be stalked, let alone by a guy like him.
“Are you okay?” Mo asks. “What happened?”
I struggle to come up with the words. To explain to her how I got here.
“I … Can I stay here?”
She frowns. “Is everything okay back at home?”
I shake my head. “Not right now.”
She sighs and wraps me in her arms. “I’m sorry, babe. I can ask my mom and dad, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I know,” I reply. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it. If they don’t say yes, I’ll figure something out.” She leans back. “Is this about your mom’s new boyfriend?”
I nod, biting my lip. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“I understand,” she says, smiling softly. “He’s a dick.”
I laugh and wipe the rain off my nose. “That’s an understatement.”
She beckons me. “C’mon upstairs. Go take a shower. You can grab some of my clothes.”
“But—”
She pushes me up the stairs before I can protest. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Stop,” she says, raising a brow. “You know I always try my best for my homegirl.” She winks. “Now go.” She slaps me on the butt and turns around. “While I grovel and suck up to my parents.”
Lucky me. Even when I’m down and out, there’s a place I can go. Mo always has my back even when I don’t. And that’s all a best friend could ask for.
* * *
A few days later
“So are you coming to Nadia’s party tonight or not?” Monica asks as I close my locker.
“Maybe?” I mutter, staring at my schedule to see what class I’m supposed to follow next.
Last night was the first night I spent at home again, and there was so much back-and-forth arguing that I forgot to print it out, so now I’m gonna have to scramble.
“Dude, you can’t not come,” she says, staring me down. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. Just like the party at Robby’s beach house last summer.”
I choke up and quickly put my phone away. “Um, no thanks.”
“What? Why not?” she gasps. “I thought you liked it. You were all excited for that one last summer. Why not now?” She puts her hands against her side. “Don’t tell me something happened there … Besides Nina, of course.”
I swallow away the lump in my throat. I’m almost tempted to tell her, but if I did, the police would be on this within twenty-four hours, and I don’t know if I want that. Nina’s death was a tragedy, but not all pictures tell the truth either.
Do I really know what happened? Or do I just think I do?
“No, no, I’m just not sure if I want to,” I say, clearing my throat. “Mom asked me to have dinner with her.”
“Oh, c’mon, I’m sure she can reschedule.” Monica winks. “Rain check. She won’t mind if you tell her you really wanna go to this party.”
I roll my eyes as Monica wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Do it for me. I need a gal pal to hit up the guys.”
I snort. “You don’t need anyone to get a guy to like you.”
“True, but it’s no fun without you,” she says, smiling.
“Fine, fine, I’ll come,” I concede.
“Yay!” She hugs me as the bell rings. “Okay, gotta go. I’ll text you!”
I nod as she disappears through the crowd, and I’m left with an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Parties and I are each other’s worst enemy. For some reason, I always attract bad attention there.
Speaking of bad attention … Nate Wilson is back again. And no longer in that dark hoodie outfit either. He’s back to wearing the regular jock outfit, sporting a dirty grin on top.
I didn’t expect to see him that soon after what happened on the street the other day. I figured he’d lay low for a while and maybe leave me alone. Instead, he and his buddies from football walk straight toward me.
I straighten my back and hold my head high as he approaches. I may be outnumbered, but I won’t let that distract from the fact that he’s the bad guy here, not me.
“Hey Sammie-Sam,” he muses, and his fellow jocks all laugh as if it’s somehow funny when it’s just my name. “Got some more pics for me?” He winks.
“No,” I reply with a stern voice.
“Aww, c’mon, we all want a taste,” one of the others says, and he licks his lips.
A taste? Of what?
What is going on?
I frown while staring at Nate. “What do you want from me?”
“You know what I want.” A brief vicious grin pops up on his face, and I’m immediately reminded of his scare tactic in the rain the other day.