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Prologue
ZAK
Idart back through the tunnel, headed toward the locker room. Flashbacks from last night pelt me like paint gun bullets as I tear down the corridor. With my one free hand, I fist my hair.
I can’t think about that right now.
Kylian, my best friend, is always the first one out of the tunnel when we play at home. And tonight is homecoming. Coach Reeves pulled us aside yesterday after practice to let us know that scouts from Ohio State and Ole Miss would be here to watch us stomp the shit out of our rivals from Boca Raton.
I rub the back of my head, trying to shut out the image of Skyla’s deflated expression when I mentioned the scouts to her last night.
Last night.
Fuck.
What the hell was I thinking?
Blurting the news was basically my dickhead way of pushing her out of my life and decimating any expectations she might have.
Because there’s no future for me and my best friend’s sister, no matter what I’ve made her believe over the past few months.
Her life is charmed, filled with promise.
My life is the exact opposite. Being raised as the second to youngest sibling in a Russian mafia family with a group of brothers and sisters who could single-handedly hold off most small armies makes me different than everyone around me.
Because I’m a target… for more enemies than I care to count.
Most people I know don’t wear bull’s-eyes on their backs. But mine’s like a homing device, flashing bright red for the biggest scumbags in South Florida.
And I’m destined to be hunted down by the same motherfuckers who killed Dad and Dima, and almost killed Luka, my oldest brother and the boss of our organization.
Unless I shine like a super fucking nova tonight for those scouts.
They’re my ticket outta Miami, far away from this life.
Far away from Skyla.
And far away from all the shit that dragged me deep into the pits of hell last night when I should have been resting up for the big game. Shit that nobody can ever know about, especially my best friend.
I push open the black double doors. “Ky, what the hell are you still doing in here?”
Kylian slowly turns away from his locker. His shoulders square, his eyes glow with fury.
“What’s wrong?”
He walks toward me, glaring at me with such disdain that I stumble backward into the wooden bench behind me. I don’t like that look on his face.
“It’s our night.” I try again. “Why do you look so pissed off?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He bares his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. “You really have to ask?”
A chill slips down my spine.
He gives me a hard shove, catching me off guard. “I know exactly what happened last night.” His voice is tight with anger. “You fucking cocksucker.”
Shiiiiit.
“You think you can have everything, don’t you? Free ride to college, NFL glory, every fucking pussy on the planet screaming for your cock.” He shoves me again.
