by Ashley Jade
No, she doesn’t want to be embarrassed.
Ever since I can remember, she’s put Catherine on a pedestal for being beautiful and thin.
While I’ve been the fat daughter she’s not-so-secretly ashamed of.
It absolutely kills her that Jolene Church—queen of damn near every pageant there is in North Carolina—made something as imperfect and ugly as me.
Fortunately, my dad’s never made me feel like a mistake.
Getting up from the table, I walk over to the cabinet.
“Catherine’s going to email me a diet plan we think you should try out,” she informs me as I take out the Saran Wrap. “One of her sorority sisters lost twenty pounds in two months on it. I’m sure if you stick to it this time, you could lose forty pounds before the wedding. Maybe even more.”
She might be onto something, because the thought of my perfect sister and mother discussing diet plans and how much weight I need to lose is enough to make me lose my appetite.
I quickly wrap up what’s left of my dad’s plate. “Okay.”
It’s usually easier to agree with her than to protest.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking the rest of Daddy’s dinner to him.”
“Sawyer, you know I don’t say these things to be hurtful. I just want you to be healthy. You know as well as I do you’d feel so much better about yourself if you lost the weight.”
Maybe. But I’d also feel better if she’d learn to accept me the way I am instead of trying to turn me into what she wants.
“Right,” I whisper because I’ve never had the courage to stand up to her.
Probably because deep down, I know she’s right.
It’s not like I’m not aware I could stand to lose forty pounds. Heck, even more if we’re going by a BMI chart, but it’s the way she constantly makes me feel like I’m not good enough that I can’t stand.
Balancing the plate in one hand, I snatch my keys off the counter. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
I’m almost to the door when I halt my steps. Despite how she feels about my weight, she’s still my mother and I do care about her.
I don’t want her to think bringing my father his dinner means I’m choosing him over her.
“Love you.”
There’s a long pause…and then, “I should get started on these dishes.”
Disappointment sinks like a brick in my chest.
I don’t know why I held out hope she’d say it back.
She never does.
Chapter 2
Cole
There’s nothing like the high after a win. The addictive energy has a way of seeping through your pores and coursing through your body like a live wire.
I’m so pumped, Cortland’s annoying ass isn’t even bothering me.
Dwight, who scored the last touchdown of the game, grins. “Man, that hook and ladder play was lit. Good call, Covington. How’d you know it would work so well?”
I shrug as I lead my team to the locker room. We have less than fifteen minutes to shower before we have to head back out to the field so they can announce homecoming king and queen.
As if everyone doesn’t already know who won.
“Easy. Number sixty-two is still healing from a bum knee so he can’t run fast, and number forty-four is afraid of getting injured so he half-asses everything.” Not wanting to take all the glory, I throw him a bone since—according to my coach—I need to work on my sportsmanship. “But even if he didn’t, I knew you’d be too fast for them.”
“Shit, I felt nothing but air behind me. It’s like they weren’t even trying.”
Cortland snorts. “Bunch of pussies.”
“Yeah, buddy. Bastards should consider this payback for last year.” Lennox, from the defense, slaps my shoulder. “Can’t keep a QB like Covington down for long.”
My smile matches his. “Damn straight.”
Last year Tommy DaSilva—the most worthless piece of manipulating shit on the planet—intentionally injured me on the field during the second most important game of the season.
Thanks to the concussion the motherfucker gave me, I wasn’t allowed to play in the championship game.
The Saints ended up winning instead.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate him and the rest of those asshole Vikings with the fire of a thousand burning suns.
Fortunately, Tommy graduated last year so I don’t have to see or hear about him anymore.
Too bad I can’t say the same about Todd Harris, the Viking’s starting quarterback.
The dude is good, I’ll give him that. But it’s only because his dad, uncle, and grandfather were all in the NFL.
Fucker’s been training since he was a little shit in diapers.
He didn’t have to work for it like I did.
And yeah, I guess maybe I’m bitter because he had everything handed to him, but something about the guy rubs me the wrong way.
Although it’s most likely because he wants the same thing I do.
Word on the street is that Duke’s Heart—who has the best college football team on the West Coast—is taking one quarterback next year.
Todd Harris is gunning for the spot.
So am I.
As if reading my mind, Dwight asks, “You think Harris is out for the season?”
One can only hope.
Right before halftime, he got sacked by Lennox and a few others. He was limping when he got up, so they pulled him off the field and stuck their backup QB in to finish the game.
As much as I hate to admit it, his injury probably played a part in our easy victory tonight.
I push open the locker room door. “Nah, I don’t think—”
The rest of that sentence falls by the wayside when the sound of people screwing fills my ears.
“Well, damn,” Dwight mutters with a laugh.
“Sounds like someone decided to celebrate early,” Cortland remarks.
Yeah, question is who?
“More,” some girl whines in a breathy voice. “Harder.”
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I know that breathy whine.
A moment later, my girlfriend comes into view.
Her cheerleading skirt is pushed up past her thighs and her spray-tanned legs are wrapped around some Viking’s waist as he fucks her senseless against the lockers.
Ice fills my veins when I notice the number on the back of his jersey.
Todd Harris.
Chapter 3
Cole
“Oh, my God,” Casey cries out.
Everyone’s too stunned to speak—including Cortland and he never shuts up—as they disengage from one another.
“Want me to guard the doors?” Dwight offers.
“Just say the word, brother,” Lennox grunts behind me. “We can take turns fucking him up real good.”
“Where’s the popcorn when you need it?” This from Cortland.
“Cole,” Casey whispers, her voice trembling.
Paying the traitorous bitch no mind, I focus on the other piece of shit in front of me.
You can cut the tension with a knife when he turns around.
Everyone’s eyes ping pong between us, no doubt waiting for a brawl.
The shit-eating smirk on his face makes it clear he not only wants—he’s expecting—a reaction from me.
Too bad for Todd, I’d rather saw off my nuts with a butter knife than give him one.
Because I know once I lay my hands on him, I won’t stop until I permanently rearrange his face.
And that’s exactly what he wants.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize he’ll have me arrested and I can kiss my shot at Duke’s goodbye.
Fucker must be awfully threatened to feel the need to stoop so low as to fuck my girlfriend.
Correction—ex-girlfriend.
“Cole,” Casey whispers again.
Ignoring her, I look at Todd and stick out my hand. “Good game, man
.”
Confusion mars his face and his eyes dart around the room briefly before he apprehensively shakes it.
When I release my hold, he tenses up, no doubt waiting for my fist to come next.
But it doesn’t.
I walk the fuck out instead.
There’s not a person on earth worth giving up my dreams for.
“Hey,” Jace calls out when I’m halfway down the hall.
I was so distracted I walked right past him.
Get your shit together.
I spin around. “Yo.”
Expression full of concern, he walks toward me. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Shoving his hands into the oversized pocket of his hoodie, he blows out a breath. “I don’t know. You seem off.”
My brother and I have a weird relationship. He’s only a year older, but he’s the one who stepped up and took care of things after our family fell apart.
He’s also the only person who’s ever given a shit about me.
Jace wouldn’t just take a bullet for me and Bianca…he’d take an entire magazine for us.
It’s why he’s the only person in my life who gets what little respect I have to give.
After checking to make sure no one else is within earshot, I tell him the truth.
“I caught Casey fucking Todd Harris in the locker room.”
Along with the rest of the football team.
His eyes widen. “Shit. That fucking sucks.” The vein in his forehead makes an appearance. “If you want me to feed him his teeth, just say the word. I don’t want you blowing your shot with Duke’s over some asshole.”
As much as I appreciate his offer to handle Todd, this shit is my beef, not his.
“Nah, don’t waste your time. Truth is, I’ve been wanting to get rid of Casey’s skanky ass for a while now. She just happened to beat me to it is all.”
His lips twitch. “Well, don’t stress it. It’s not like you’ll be single for long. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls willing to give up their right tit to make your dick wet.”
He’s not wrong.
Too bad I’ve fucked most of them already and I’m growing tired of their fake moans and monotonous moves.
Half the time they just lie there like a dead fish. As if the thought of getting fucked by me is more interesting than the actual act.
No wonder Oakley fucked his stepmom.
High school girls are boring as hell. Especially when they’re virgins.
Screwing one of them is the equivalent of forcing yourself to eat bland, dry chicken without any seasoning for twenty minutes straight in order to get rid of your hunger.
Personally, I’d rather starve.
Reaching over, I bump my fist with his. “Truth.” I motion down the hallway. “I should get going. They’ll be calling my name any minute. Thanks for coming to the game.”
“Hold up,” he says when I start to leave.
“What’s good?”
“The sperm donor’s still on his business trip, right?”
“Yeah. I think he said something about being back on Tuesday.”
Whereas Jace harbors resentment toward our father and refuses to take a single cent from him now that he’s able to support himself—I simply don’t give a fuck and have no problem milking the fucker for every penny I can.
The way I see it, it’s the least Jason Covington can do.
Plus, I manage to accrue some pretty sweet shit when I act like I don’t hate his guts for five minutes.
Like my most prized possession. A two-million-dollar LaFerrari I dub the green monster.
I scored it shortly after we caught him red-handed with his latest whore Nadia, and Jace let it slip that he cheated on our mom before she died.
Bastard.
“Good. I’m coming over on Sunday.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Bianca’s been on my case a lot lately. She thinks Dylan’s keeping me away from you guys.” His gaze cuts to mine. “It’s not like that though. Dylan would never do that.”
Oh hell. Here we go.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Dylan makes you happy. Don’t let Bianca ruin that.”
He sighs. “I know. I just hate that she thinks I don’t care about h—”
“She knows you care, Jace. The only reason she’s acting like a jealous brat and making you feel bad is because you let her. Point blank, Bianca wants the attention and enjoys feeling like she has some kind of power over your relationship with Dylan.”
Sometimes my big brother needs a dose of reality.
He knows as well as I do Bianca enjoys fucking with people and slithering into their psyche so she can control them.
Fortunately for her, she has an advantage, thanks to our mother’s looks and inheriting the asshole Covington gene from our dad.
Unfortunately for everyone else, the girl has no boundaries and there’s no telling how far she’d go to get whatever she wants.
The fact she’s planning to become a psychiatrist after she graduates is…unnerving.
The world will be fucked once Bianca starts pulling the strings of the mentally ill and criminally insane.
Which is why Jace needs to stop allowing her to play him like a fiddle. My brother’s gone soft ever since he fell in love, but he’ll end up getting burned if he’s not careful.
“You’re right.” Another sigh. “I just don’t want her to feel like she can’t come to me, or like I’m abandoning her or some shit. She—”
“Man, shut it down. Bianca has you wrapped around her little finger and the more you give in to her bullshit, the tighter her grip will become.”
She’s my baby sister, therefore I’ll always have her back if anyone hurts her, but the girl is a master manipulator if there ever was one.
I pity whatever poor schmuck she ends up setting her sights on. The clown won’t ever be able to escape from her crazy ass.
Hell, if Cortland wasn’t such a perverted prick, I’d set the two of them up.
Fucker deserves a little misery.
Nodding, Jace crosses his arms. “I will. Sunday morning I’m gonna sit her down and tell her to cut the shit because Dylan isn’t going anywhere ever, and Bianca needs to accept it.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll tell Oakley to come over for a family meeting. With all three of us there, she’ll know we mean business and back off.”
I start to walk away for a third time, but he stops me again. “Yeah…about that.” I’m not sure what to make of the grim expression on his face. “I don’t want Oakley there.”
That’s…peculiar. Oak’s our brother from another mother. “He always comes to our family meetings.”
“Not anymore.”
Irritation crawls along my neck. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because he came over high as a kite last night.” His nostrils flare. “And right when I was getting ready to press him on it, Loki called and he walked outside.”
Loki’s a drug dealer from the other side of town. The guy is bad news and Oak’s admitted to buying ecstasy, coke, and heroin off him a few times in the past.
However, Loki also sells weed—and according to Oak—marijuana helps manage his epilepsy.
I open my mouth to defend my friend, but then Jace grinds out, “A few minutes later I found him seizing on the patio.”
“Shit.”
Given Oakley’s condition, seizures happen…but not that often.
Not unless he’s under extreme stress or taking drugs he shouldn’t.
But as much as the thought of him using again irks me, Jace shouldn’t cut him off because of a slip-up. Dude’s life hasn’t exactly been a picnic lately.
“He’s been arguing with his dad a lot,” I inform him. “Wayne wants him to come back home, but he refuses.”
Jace remains stone-faced. “I know.”
“Yeah, and you also know how much Crystal getting pregnant really fucked him up. Cut him some goddamn slack.”
His eyes
darken in challenge. “I’m out of slack. When the sperm-donor gets back, I’m telling him to kick Oak out of the guesthouse. He’s fucking with Loki again, and I don’t want you or Bianca around it. Kicking him out is the only way I can protect you.”
It’s not often we fight, but fuck him and the judgmental horse he rode in on. “Oakley’s not Walter White, Jace. He’s your best friend and he’s going through some shit. If you make Dad kick him out, you’re all but signing his death warrant because he’s only gonna hang out with Loki more and we both know how that relationship will end up.”
With Oakley dead in a ditch or scrubbing for change on a street corner for his next hit.
“He’s hurting Dylan.” Anger flashes in his gaze. “I can handle Oakley’s fuck-ups, but Dylan can’t. Last night after he left, she cried herself to sleep because he got high, and that is not fucking okay.”
I snort. “Sounds like your little goodie-two-shoes needs to get a grip.”
I’m glad Jace is happy, but his girlfriend’s been at the top of my shit list these days.
After shit went down with Sawyer a few months ago, Jace read me the riot act and told me to stay away from her because Dylan would kick my ass if I hurt her precious bestie again.
When I told him I’d like to see her try, he said she wouldn’t get the chance, because he’d rip off my throwing arm and shove it up my ass.
It wasn’t the first time he took someone else’s side over mine.
He shoves me. “Don’t be a dick, asshole. She’s worried about him.” His shoulders slump on an exhale. “We both are.” The edges of his lips whiten with a deep scowl. “But I’m not gonna waste my time or energy explaining that to someone like you.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Dylan’s worried about Oakley because she loves him.” He starts walking away. “Which is something you’ll never understand the concept of because you’re way too goddamn selfish.”
He’s not wrong.
Bianca’s already diagnosed me as a sociopath due to my narcissism and lack of empathy.
I told her it was because I had yet to meet anyone worth giving a single fuck about.