Fallen Fourth Down (Fallen Crest #4)

by Tijan

  Park had taken a swing at me. It could’ve been as payback because I punched Nate, but I was guessing there was more to it. Matteo told me earlier Park liked people with power around him. He tried to get me. Then he found out that Nate wanted to talk to me? The rift could’ve been smoothed over. If they knew I hit Nate, because I knew Nate didn’t tell them, it meant they heard what else I’d been saying about Park.

  If.

  If we’d been given the chance to mend our relationship without their fraternity striking. If they hadn’t meant to hit me and hit Marissa instead. If all of that hadn’t happened and Nate had come to me, we would’ve fixed things. I hadn’t known that after I punched him, but hearing what Nate told Sebastian, that he wanted to talk to me himself, I knew it would’ve been inevitable. Nate hadn’t been too far gone, and with our friendship back on, I would’ve been in Nate’s ear. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my disdain quiet for his brother. That would’ve pulled Nate away from the fraternity. That would’ve pulled another powerful person away from Sebastian’s control.

  He put a stop to it. Or he would’ve, if I’d been hurt or worse. The hit and run could’ve just caused minor injuries like a sprained ankle or bruising that would’ve healed quickly. But it also could’ve torn a ligament or broke a bone, putting an end to my football career. If I’d been still breathing afterwards. Marissa still was and she was three times smaller than me.

  Still. They went for the jugular. So would I.

  I took Sam to the hotel instead of home. She was here, but I didn’t want anyone in the football house to know. Logan mentioned later that he overheard Garrett at her house, when he went to pick her up. Her biological father had invited her to Boston over the holiday break, and whether Sam knew it or not, she was going. After what I had planned, I wanted her out of harm’s way. The farther away the better, and when she came back, we’d have to deal with whatever was going on then. Everything would be touch and go for a while, but I was ready. What I had planned could hurt me. It could do more than just take my career away, but Park wasn’t going to go away. I recognized his type. He’d keep coming. He’d want blood from me. He would want me destroyed. I intended to destroy him first.

  Logan stood up when we walked inside. Skimming over us both, a smirk came to him, and he winked at Sam. “So, want to be my sister wife?”

  I scowled, but hearing him joking helped lift some of the tension. “Not funny, asshole.”

  Logan laughed. “What? This is typical Logan Kade. This is good material. So how about it, Sam?”

  Sam rolled her eyes. She was holding onto my hand, and for a second, her hold tightened, but at his first joke, she relaxed, relief settling over her.

  A door that led to an accompanying room opened and Nate stepped through. Logan stood back up and gestured to him. “Just kidding. Nate already claimed me as his sister wife, even though we’re both dudes. We’ll figure a way. We don’t need you guys. You can have your own Twosome Fearsome. Nate and I have realized our long-lost, deep…deeply buried love for each other. He’s my Twosome Gaysome. Come to my bosom, my little horny husband.”

  Nate stopped, frowned at him, and looked at us. “What the fuck?”

  Logan hushed him. “Don’t listen to him. We’re still basking in the honeymoon stage. He just doesn’t want you guys to be jealous since it’s obvious you two aren’t.”

  Nate burst out laughing.

  “Burn, bitches.” Logan beamed at us. He licked his tongue and held it to the air, then made a hissing sound. “It’s still sizzling.”

  Sam groaned, her fingers still entwined with mine. “Way to be sensitive to the issue.”

  “What issue?” My brother gestured to Nate, throwing his arm around his shoulder. “You two gotta duke it out over me. It’s obvious you both want me.”

  Seeing the bag that Nate was holding, he held it up to me as Logan made another teasing comment. I took it and went over to the couch to look at what he brought. He’d gone with the directions to grab his stuff and get out of there. If he had something for me, there was a reason. As I started looking through it, aware of the other three watching me, I wanted to see what he had gotten for me first. And knowing this, Logan kept making offhanded comments. He was stalling for me. Well, they were all just waiting, but I knew the other reason for his jokes.

  He and Sam had gotten close over the year. Now this shit of their ‘could’ve been love’ wasn’t going to help me feel at ease, but he was breaking the tension. In his way, he was trying to reaffirm that everything would be fine. I knew this. Still. The sight of them talking together, standing so close was permanently etched in my brain. I didn’t think it would ever leave. They entire image of them had seemed intimate, like I was the one intruding on them.

  I found Nate’s phone and held it up.

  He turned and his slight grin vanished.

  A sense of gravity filled the room and everyone knew the jokes were over.

  I asked, “Is there something on here?” He had included it in the bag for a reason.

  He nodded and came over to sit across from me. Sam sat next to me, and Logan stayed standing up. He’d be pacing soon; that's what he did.

  “I recorded something.” He took it, got it to the right recording, and hit play before handing it over. A crackling sound came out and then, “What are you doing, Monson?”

  Nate’s voice came from his phone, “I’m packing. I’m leaving.”

  “This is because of Kade?” The other voice scoffed. “You shouldn’t pick your side so soon.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Look, we didn’t mean to hit that girl. Trust me, we’ll fix it. She’ll never have to pay her college bills for the rest of the time she’s in school. Her entire tuition will be covered; she’ll find that out in due time. You don’t need to worry about any of this blowing back on us.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean it. Kade didn’t see shit.”

  “He saw you, Park.”

  There was silence, and a laugh came from the phone. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t know what he saw. Trust me, Monson, you’re picking too early. Put your stuff away. We can forget any of this happened.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” His voice smoothed out, becoming persuasive. “Our dads are friends.”

  “Your dad is friends with Mason’s too.”

  “This is between us. The sons. The fathers will stay out of this. Come on, Nate. Put everything away.”

  Another few seconds passed in silence, then Nate said, “I can’t. Mason’s been my best friend since we were little. We had a disagreement, but he’s family.”

  More crackling sounds came from the phone and then Park laughed. The sound was mocking. “Fine, but you’re going to regret this. Trust me. We’re going to bury your friend.”

  “You don’t know Mason.”

  “I don’t have to. This is my school. This is my house. He thinks he’s some big shot. Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. Remember my other football buddy? The one I know Kade was telling you about, how heartless I was with his scholarship. He doesn’t know anything about that story. That accident wasn’t an accident. I can get at anyone, even your precious Mason Kade. Trust me, Nate. Go ahead. Go to his side. It’s your funeral.”

  It cut out. I handed the phone to him, but Nate said, “No. I’ll get a new one. That needs to stay how it is. I don’t want to risk deleting it by accident.”

  Logan cursed. “What’s the plan?”

  I looked around the room. They were all waiting, all looking back at me. There were varying emotions in each of them. Logan was bristling. He wanted to fight. He was always down for anything. Nate was calm. I could see he was just ready for anything. I glanced at Sam. Other times she might’ve been fearful and slightly looking away. She wasn’t this time.

  She was looking right at me, and I could see her anger. There was a flame in her eye that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

  I sighed. Then I told them the plan.


  *

  We waited for a night Nate was certain his fraternity was going to be out of the house. Then he snuck inside. His job was to search every room, every closet, the bathrooms, even the showers. He searched every inch of that house. When a flashlight was turned on and then off, and it was repeated, that was our signal. The house was empty.

  Logan was next to me. He expelled a deep breath, then took off. Both of them went through the house. They dumped gasoline over everything. When they were done, they tossed the containers inside and headed back to me.

  This was it. This would change everything.

  No one said a word. For a moment, we just stood there and thought about what we were going to do, then I held out my hand. Logan pulled the box of matches from his bag. For a second, everyone paused. There was a gravity in the air, a sense of stillness about what we were about to do, but I wasn’t going back.

  Logan tried to break a smile. He tried, but failed. He sighed. “Is this like fourth down, and we’re going for the goal?”

  I took out a match. No one else spoke. I shook my head. “No. This is kick off. They brought us to the game.” I lit the match. “This is just the beginning.”

  I tossed it and watched it burn.

  Fallen Crest Finale (tentative title) coming soon.

  For more information, go to

  http://www.tijansbooks.com

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’m just going to list everyone that I need to thank because there’s a ton! My editor, honestly, she puts up with all my craziness and nagging! Ami! You do so much for me! And my proofreader, Chris! I give you such short notice and you always pull through. I’m so lucky for both of you. Then there’s my team of encouragers/supporters/betas: Cami, Kerri, Eileen, Heather, Ker Dukey, Amanda, Amanda, Mari! I love you ladies! I can come to you for almost anything and you’re there for me! It is so much appreciated. I don’t know how I did it before when I didn’t have this team to constantly reassure me or were just there for me to bounce ideas off of. Then my author friends: K.A. Robinson, Jay McLean, Debra Anastasia, Teresa Mummert, Sara Celi, L.B. Simmons, Ilsa Madden-Hills, there’s so many more, but these ladies have helped with so much. Laughs. Venting. Tears. Sending me random pictures of penises. That’s what friends are for, right? Lol

  Then the ladies in my fan group, the Tijanettes!! Honestly, there’s always something new in there that makes me smile and laugh. Just a heart-felt THANK YOU! Thank you for supporting me. Just thank you! And I have to add the customary last line of thank you to my other half, Bailey, my dog. Lol Jason, thank you for always understanding my crazy neurotic schedule and not getting too upset with me when I get too stressed out. He’s my heart, my soul.

  Sneak Peek into K.A. Robinson’s New Book

  Deception

  Releasing 10.03.14

  Chapter One

  My feet were killing me. All I wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed.

  Work had been brutal tonight. I’d been working at the same diner for almost two years, but up until last week, I’d only been part-time. The day after I’d graduated from Morgantown High School, I’d switched to full-time.

  I didn’t really mind waitressing, but my body was still getting used to being on the move constantly. The diner, a small family-owned business, was always busy with the same customers. Most of them knew me by now and usually tipped well. A few college kids would come in from time to time, but they usually went to one of the more popular spots in Morgantown. I didn’t mind though because they were normally the ones who would leave crappy tips.

  I pulled into the driveway of my foster parents’ house and yawned. I hoped they were asleep. My foster dad, Rick, was an asshole to me most of the time. The only reason he kept me and the other foster kids around was because of the nice checks he would receive for taking care of us. I knew my time here would be up soon. Today was my eighteenth birthday. Hopefully, my foster dad hadn’t remembered. I didn’t feel like getting kicked out of the only place I had to go tonight.

  My foster mom, Tammy, wasn’t as bad as Rick. She could even be nice at times, but her fear of Rick’s temper would keep her from defending any of the kids. Rick wasn’t physically abusive, but when his temper got the best of him, he’d go on a rampage that rivaled a three-year-old’s. Tammy had learned long ago to lock up anything breakable.

  I’d been in twelve different foster homes since I was three. Tammy and Rick’s house wasn’t the best, but it definitely wasn’t the worst. I shuddered as I thought about my last two houses. Yeah, I could deal with Rick’s asshole ways. I didn’t give a gigglefuck about Rick’s temper as long as he wouldn’t try to touch me.

  I climbed out of my piece-of-shit car and headed for the house. My car was the only thing I truly owned. I’d saved every penny I could and purchased it two months ago. I’d paid six hundred dollars for a 1989 Chevy Impala, and I definitely got what I’d paid for. The body was rusted out in several places. The right rear fender was an ugly green color while the rest of the car was a faded red. It was the ugliest Christmas-themed car I’d ever seen. Actually, it was the ugliest car I’d ever seen—period. But it would get me from point A to point B most of the time. Sadly, it wasn’t even street legal, but I didn’t have the extra cash to get everything I needed to make it so.

  Once I reached the house, I stuck my key into the lock and turned it. I frowned when the door didn’t unlock. I pulled the key out, thinking that maybe I’d shoved it in the wrong way, and I tried again. Realization hit me when the lock still didn’t turn over. Rick had changed it while I was at work.

  I sighed in defeat before knocking loudly on the door. Lights turned on in the living room, and then I heard the door unlocking.

  Rick opened the door and frowned at me. “Yes?”

  “Um…the door wouldn’t open for me,” I said.

  “Probably not since I changed the lock.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

  “You’re eighteen now, Claire. You’re no longer my problem.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “Seriously? You’re kicking me out on my birthday?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” he said without remorse.

  “Can I at least get my clothes and stuff?”

  He shrugged. “Make it quick.”

  He moved out of the way, and I hurried past him toward the room that I shared with Shelly.

  Shelly was a foster kid, too. She’d been here when I arrived. She was only ten, but I’d found myself gravitating toward her from the beginning. We would look out for each other. I hated to think about her being here alone. I was pretty sure I was the only person in this house who cared about her.

  I passed by the boys’ bedroom on the way to my room. Besides Shelly and me, two other foster kids lived here. Kevin was thirteen, and Jerimiah was eight. I wasn’t as close to them as I was to Shelly, but I’d still miss them as well.

  I opened the door to my room and flipped on the light switch. Shelly was sound asleep in the bottom bunk. I moved quietly around the room, shoving my clothes and personal items into the suitcase I’d carried around since I was first put into foster care. It didn’t take me long to pack. I had very few clothes and even less personal items.

  My eyes misted as I picked up the only thing I had left of my mom—a locket. I opened it up to see the tiny photo of her and me. I was only a few months old in the picture. My mom had been killed in a car accident right before I turned three. Her parents were also dead, and no one knew who my father was. With no family to take me in, I had been thrown into the foster system.

  I closed my eyes and tried to remember my mother. As always, nothing came to me, except for the way she’d smelled. All I knew about her was that she’d smelled like strawberries. I closed the locket and slipped it into my jeans pocket. Once it was safely tucked away, I closed my suitcase and glanced down at Shelly. I hated to wake her up, but I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.

  I crouched down
next to her and gently poked her a few times.

  Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared up at me. “Claire? What’s wrong?” she asked as she sat up.

  “I have to leave, kiddo. My time’s up,” I said as I tried to smile at her.

  “What? Why?” she asked, panic filling her voice.

  “Rick’s giving me the boot. I gotta go.”

  “He can’t do that!” she cried angrily.

  “I’m eighteen, so technically, he can.”

  Shelly’s eyes filled with tears as she sprang off the bed and wrapped her tiny arms around me. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  I hugged her back tightly. “I’ll miss you, too. Take care of yourself, and keep out of trouble, okay?”

  “You know I will. Will I see you again?”

  I pulled away and cupped her cheek. “I don’t know. Maybe someday.”

  She nodded as her shoulders sagged in defeat. “Please be careful.”

  “Always. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she whispered.

  I pushed her back into bed and tucked her in. I kissed her forehead before pulling away. I stood and grabbed my suitcase off the floor. I gave her one last smile before I opened the door and slipped silently into the hallway.

  Rick was still standing by the front door when I walked into the living room.

  “Did you get everything?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, because you’re not welcome back here. Got me?”

  “Yeah, I got you.” I shoved past him.

  I didn’t look back as I walked to my car. I tossed my suitcase into the backseat before climbing behind the wheel. I backed out of the driveway and headed toward the main part of town. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I realized just how screwed I was.

  I had fifty bucks to my name until I would get paid next week. I just hoped that I could make decent tips until then, or I’d be living on air. There was no way I’d be able to afford an apartment, even a shitty one, for at least a few months. I had no money, no friends, no credit, nothing. I was completely alone. The only thing I did have was my car.