Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

by Juliana Conners

  “Yup.”

  “Are we good?

  “We’re good?”

  “Is this about us?”

  “It’s not all about you Taylor. I know you like to think the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t.” Taking it out on her is wrong, I know that, but I’ve got about a day, if that, before the shit hits the fan. About a day before my family, my friends and everyone else I know realize they were right. I’m a loser.

  I’ve lost everything.

  Lost my career.

  Lost my team, hell, I’d probably even lose Taylor if she was mine in the first place.

  “Whatever’s up your ass, don’t take it out on me. I’m going for a hike.”

  “Don’t let me stop you,” I say, biting out each word.

  “Jerk.” She storms away, and when she’s out of sight, I take out my phone and call Kayden. When he picks up, I say, “Have you heard?”

  “Haven’t heard a thing,” he replies. “What’s up?”

  “I’m off the team.” Saying it out loud, sends shockwaves racing through my body. “I’ve got about one day before the news gets out. You’ve got to help me find that doctor. I have a PI working on it, but he’s been no help.”

  “Dude,” he says sounding surprised. “You didn’t tell me you’d hired an investigator. When? I thought we were friends. You usually tell me everything.”

  “I had to do something. I’m not letting some quack ruin my life. Have you been able to find anything?”

  “I been looking, but I’ve found nothing. Sorry,” Kayden says, “I’ve gotta go. Don’t do anything stupid.” Why does that last statement sound like a warning? “Actually, before you go, give me the PI’s name, and I’ll have my buddy check him out. He’s a cop with the state police in Cali.”

  “Kevin Lane. He’s based in Los Angeles. I just need some answers. I’ll do whatever it takes to find the son of a bitch who shot me full of steroids. He’s ruined my reputation and career. Do what you can to help me out. I’m desperate.”

  “You got it,” he says and then hangs up.

  I keep chopping for about an hour and debate going to find Taylor and explaining what happened--what’s happening--but then my phone rings again. A glance at the screen tells me it’s the private eye.

  “Tell me you have some good news.”

  “It may be something or nothing,” he says, “but I think your guy is working out of a makeshift office in Orange County. I got a tip-off.”

  Adrenaline bubbles up inside me. “Send me the address. I’m going there.”

  “That might not be wise. Let me go first. I’ll make an appointment.”

  “There’s no time.”

  “Alright, but I want you to know I think you’re making a mistake.”

  “Noted.”

  As soon as I hang up, my phone pings with an address. I’ll have to drive to the airport, about two hours away and book a last-minute flight. I’ll do what I have to, even if that means dragging the son of a bitch to UCLA by his hair and forcing him to tell Coach Davis everything.

  Taylor isn’t back from wherever she stormed off to, and I’m too fired up to find a pen and a piece of paper to write a note to tell her I’m leaving, I’ll text her from the road.

  I grab my clothes and keys from the cabin and jump into the car. This shit ends today. One way or another, I’ll get an explanation.

  As soon as I get in the car, I call Kayden to tell him the good news, but it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Dude, I might know where the doctor is. My PI called. If this doesn’t pan out, I’m going to go to the police. Call me back.”

  Chapter 15

  Taylor

  I’ve been back at the cabin for over an hour, and there’s still no word from Aaron. I’ve called and texted, but he’s not picking up his phone. All of his stuff is gone, too.

  I’m a fucking idiot. Why did I think he’d stick around? This morning he was back to being the asshole he’d always been. Gone was the guy who’d made my toes curl and back was the guy who made me want to scream and not in a good way.

  Whoever had called him, had severely pissed him off. Whatever is going on with him is something I’ll never know because he’s never going to tell me.

  Coming to this cabin was a colossal mistake, worse was staying when he arrived. Even though my plan was to spend time on my own, I no longer want to stay.

  I run up to the bedroom, strip the bed and then pack up. I’ll do the laundry—towels, sheets, etc.—at home and the next time someone comes up here, they can bring everything with them.

  Will I ever learn when it comes to Aaron Thompson? I should never allow my hormones to guide me, they can’t be trusted. I should’ve left the day he got here. If I had, I wouldn’t be in this mess, and my heart wouldn’t want something, someone, it can never have.

  When I’m in the middle of wiping down the kitchen counters, the sound of gravel crunching beneath car tires makes me stop. I march outside, I’ll rip him a new one.

  But it’s not Aaron’s car. It’s a car I don’t recognize. I grab the axe Aaron was using to cut down trees earlier and swing it by my leg.

  Two men step out of the car. The taller of the two looks vaguely familiar, and from his build, it’s clear he’s a football player.

  “Can I help?” I ask in a decidedly unfriendly tone.

  “We’re looking for Aaron,” the smaller and older one says, leaning his hip against the car door.

  “He’s not here right now.”

  “When you see him, give him a message,” The taller one says. “Tell him to call off his dogs. If he doesn’t, he’ll lose more than what’s left of his career.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” And then it hits me where I know the taller one from. “Aren’t you Kayden Rush? You play with Aaron, right?”

  “Doesn’t matter who I am. I take it you’re his latest fuck buddy. If you ever want a real man, look me up.”

  “Screw you.”

  He smirks and opens the car door. “Don’t forget to give him our message.”

  “Or what?”

  “Like I said, he’ll lose more than what’s left of his career.”

  “What do you mean what’s left of his career? He hasn’t lost his career.” Or has he? What secrets has he been keeping from everyone?

  Both men get back into the car and drive away. I lower the axe and take my phone from my pocket. All of my anger towards Aaron dissipates and is replaced by nagging worry. Whatever trouble Aaron’s in, it seems bad.

  I need to talk to him, to warn him. Once again, his phone goes to voicemail. This is serious enough that my finger hovers over Jack’s name. It doesn’t matter that he’s on honeymoon, his son’s in trouble and needs help.

  Aaron may never forgive me, but if something happens to him, I may never forgive myself.

  Chapter 16

  Aaron

  I’m breaking all kinds of speed limits as I rush towards Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. One way or another, I’m getting answers.

  Halfway to Atlanta, still on curving backroads, I glance out of my rearview mirror and see a black car speeding towards me. Someone else is in more of a hurry than I am. If the driver doesn’t slow down, he’ll push me off the road.

  I wind down my window and wave at the driver to get in front of me, but he doesn’t, he pulls up beside me, then gets in front, skidding to a stop.

  “Fuck.” I slam my breaks and miss him by an inch. The sudden jolt sends pain shooting down my arm. “What the fuck,” I shout, getting out of my car. “You trying to fucking kill me? I bang on the driver’s tinted window, and it rolls down.

  Kayden gives a wave from the driver’s seat.

  “Dude,” I say, wanting to punch his lights out, “not cool. What are you doing here?”

  “Since I’m not too far away, thought I’d come say hi. Thought you’d still be at the cabin. Where you headed?”

  “LA. I gotta go.”

  “Not so fast. After our p
hone call this morning, and your voicemail, we have a few things to talk about.”

  I get a good look at the passenger. Time stops. The. Fucking. Doctor. How is it even possible? My PI said he was in Orange County.

  It takes everything I have not to lunge inside the car and kill him with my bare hands.

  “Kayden, how did you find him?” Relief washes over me. “Jesus fucking Christ. You did it, man. You fucking did it. I knew I could rely on you. My PI told me he was in Orange County.”

  “Chill, bro,” Kayden says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not what you think. Your PI is a douche and is following a false lead. I wanted to see how thorough he was, so I fed him some lies, which he then fed to you.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re not making any sense.”

  He nods toward the grinning man in the passenger seat. “I’d like you to meet my cousin, Dr. Wyatt Lane.”

  “What?” I say, confused. “What do you mean your cousin?”

  “You’re so fucking dumb.” Kayden shakes his head slowly and gives a humorless laugh. “For two years, before you came along I sat on the bench biding my time, playing by the rules, doing what I had to do but then you, golden dick, comes along. With you around, I had no chance.” He removes his hands from the steering wheel and holds them up. “I did what I had to do to get my shot.”

  Bile churns in my stomach. “Get out of the car and talk to me like a man.”

  “There’s nothing else to say,” he says and shrugs. “Saw your latest fuck buddy up at your dad’s cabin. Not your usual type. A bit too homely for my liking. We left a message with her. Listen to it.”

  “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  “Bro, please, I’d never hurt a girl. Unless she asked me to.”

  Before he can drive away, or roll up the window, I swing my fist and feel some satisfaction when I hear a crack and see blood trickle from his nose.

  He ruined my life out of jealousy, out of spite. “Do you know what you’ve done? Thanks to you, I’ll never play at a pro level. No college team will look at me again.”

  His lips twist into a smirk, and he swipes his forearm beneath his nose. “Sucks for you.”

  I pull the door handle. The douche didn’t lock it. I reach for him and yank him as hard as I can from the car. I don’t care that his seat belt is still clicked in.

  “Get out of the car you fucking coward.”

  Shock covers his face, and before he has time to release his seat belt, I punch him right in the face. Kayden’s eyes take on a shocked, dazed look but then they turn mad, incensed. Like a growling animal, he releases his seatbelt and practically flies out of his car, knocking me against mine.

  My lower back thuds against the bonnet and shocking pain races up my spine.

  “Fucking bastard,” he snarls. “You’re done.” Kayden’s fist makes contact with my chin. Pain flares in my jaw and I’m momentarily stunned. He lifts his fist to punch me again, but I block him with my forearm.

  Angling my arm, I hit his cheek hard enough to knock him to the ground. He lands on his ass and lowers his head, giving it a slight shake.

  “Get up,” I spit. Anger and hatred for my supposed best friend swirl around my head. “Get the fuck up.”

  Kayden jumps up and lunges toward me.

  “Use this, Kayden,” I hear from the car. An aluminum slugger clangs to the ground at Kayden’s feet. He grabs it and holds it like a club. This day just got a lot worse.

  “You’re never gonna play again, pretty boy.” The asshole swings the bat towards my shoulder, but before he makes contact, I jerk back, and to stay out of his reach, I move sideways.

  He takes another swing, but I manage to duck out of the bat’s trajectory.

  “I thought you were my friend.” I slam my fist into his stomach. The bat falls from his hands, and when he folds over, I uppercut his jaw. “I thought you had my back.”

  He staggers to his feet, and when he straightens up, I catch his jaw again and again, but then he nails my ribs, and my breath whooshes out.

  Fuck this. Before he can strike me again, I raise my fists and pummel his face, putting all my anger and disappointment into each blow. I don’t let up until he falls to the ground and his blood covers my aching knuckles.

  I lift my foot to kick him, but when his eyes flicker open, and I see fear flash through them, I lower my foot and say, “You’re not fucking worth it. I might be done in football, but so are you.”

  How am I going to prove what happened? How am I going to prove I was set up by someone I considered my best friend? All these years, he’s been guiding me and pushing me to be the best I can. I confided in him, trusted him, and all this time he hated me, was waiting to trip me up. Waiting for me to take a fall so he could take my place.

  Without a glance in Kayden’s direction, I jump into my car, make a U-turn and go back towards the cabin.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fix this, but the first thing I need to do is tell Taylor the truth and apologize for my behavior and all the secrets I’ve been keeping from her.

  Halfway to the cabin, my phone pings with missed calls and text messages. I hadn’t realized my service cut out in the backroads. I glance at my phone. They’re all from Taylor and range from, where are you? to fuck you.

  When I reach the cabin, I race to the front door. It’s locked, and there’s no sign of Taylor’s car. She’s not here.

  I grab my phone, I have to talk to her, but before I can dial her number, my dad’s number flashes up on my screen. My dad never calls, but I already know the reason why, and I brace myself for whatever he’s going to throw at me.

  “We’re coming home early from honeymoon,” he says not bothering to say hello, “and when we get back, I expect you to be there. After Taylor’s frantic phone call, I called Coach Davis.”

  How could she call my dad?

  How could she betray me like that?

  Chapter 17

  Taylor

  Calling Aaron’s dad was a desperate act. I know I should have talked to him first. Tried to get him to tell me what was going on, but considering the way he acted earlier, I doubt he would have told me anything.

  I get that he has a hard time opening up. After he lost his mom, he shut down, closed himself off and took his grief out on everyone. But he needs to start leaning on people, trusting them because I think he’s in a lot of trouble, and I think his dad is the only one who can help him.

  My mom and Jack are coming home early. Soon after I called Jack, my mom called and said they were on the next flight and that I wasn’t to worry, but from the tone of her voice, I could tell there was lots to worry about.

  As soon as I walk in the door of my mom’s house, I get a phone call from Chelsea. “Do you have any idea what’s going on? My dad called an emergency family meeting, and he wants me to come home from camp. Do you think they’re going to tell us about the baby?” Excitement fills her voice.

  “I don’t know, Chels, but I don’t think so.” I feel like a bitch for not telling her I know what the emergency meeting is about, but I can’t betray Aaron any more than I already have.

  “Oh, okay,” she says, disappointment replacing her excitement. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

  After we hang up, I try Aaron’s cell again. He hasn’t answered any of my phone calls. I don’t know if he’s talked to his dad yet, and I’m almost afraid to find out because of how guilty I feel for calling Jack.

  Unable to stop myself, I send Aaron a text telling him I’m home. A second later, a text comes back. It simply says: How could you?

  How could I what? How could I leave the cabin without telling him? Or how could I call his dad? I’m pretty certain it’s how could I call his dad. I had to. Kayden Rush threatened his life and said his career was over. I hope he understands I had no choice.

  To pass the time while I wait for Chelsea to get here from camp, and for my sisters to let me know how long it’ll take for them to drive from Emerald Isle
in North Carolina, I sit on the sofa and scroll through Instagram and Facebook.

  The first post I see in my newsfeed is from a girl I went to high school with. It says: I always knew Aaron Thompson was no good. More and more posts begin popping up about how Aaron is being investigated by the NCAA for steroid abuse. About Aaron being a drug addict. About Aaron being kicked off the team. About Aaron beating up Kayden Rush.

  No. No way. Not Aaron.

  I read news article after news article after news article all saying the same thing that Aaron took a banned performance-enhancing steroid. There’s no way this is right. There’s no way he would ever take steroids. The strongest thing I’ve ever seen him take is beer and a few Advil.

  He’s anti-drugs and is especially anti-performance enhancing drugs. He doesn’t need them. Whatever this is about, it has something to do with Kayden Rush, who Aaron supposedly beat up for confronting Aaron about his drug use. What the hell?

  Being a glutton for punishment, I read some of the comments. People are nasty. There are so many keyboard warriors who are brave behind their screens. Some are saying they always knew he was a loser. How they’re ashamed to be from the same town as him. How this is a bleak day for the Bruins and for our town. That Coach Davis and Coach Thompson should be investigated too.

  My finger gets busy with the unfollow and unfriend button.

  They don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. I know Aaron, and something about this isn’t adding up. Sure, he hurt his shoulder and he didn’t want to go for surgery, but I don’t think—no, I know—he isn’t desperate enough to try anything illegal.

  While I’m still scanning through my feed, the front door opens, and Chelsea comes barreling in.

  “My phone is blowing up,” she says near hysterics. “Can you believe what people are saying?” She begins pacing the sitting room floor. “There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. My brother is a lot of things, but he’s not a cheat. He’s never done anything illegal in his life.”