AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I lock eyes with Dad, all I register is malice mixed with amusement masking his hideous face as he snickers, “Aw, she does have a heart.”
His mocking words draw my attention to the fact that a few fucking tears have betrayed me and slid down my cheeks while I stood here oblivious and in a daze. But it’s not about him. I don’t give a fuck about Dad or that he doesn’t care about me. It’s for the fact that he allowed them to take me, make me experience fear and now turned me into an even weaker bitch.
When I move closer to my father, Cade and Ryder both try to stop me from getting in his face. But I calmly, slowly, make sure to stand face to face with the bastard when I tell him exactly what I think. “During everything, I never, not once begged for mercy. And that’s what I want you to remember at the end of all of this. Becauseyouwill be the pathetic, frail bitch beggingmefor mercy when I’m done with you.”
Dad’s eyes have a bit of panic, but he still lets out a chuckle as he says, “Threaten me all you want, sweetheart. I’m used to it. And don’t forget, I hold all the cards from your little murder spree.”
“Who said anything about murder,Dad? And how exactly are you going to explain that one to the police? Your precious daughter was abducted while you didn’t do shit to help her. How could that be since you saw her taken? Why wouldn’t you go after them to help her? Or I don’t know, call the police? Whoever would’ve thought such a great father and tough football legend of a man would allow something so horrible to happen to his child. Guess I’ll fill them in on the deets. I’m sure the media would love the full story. So please, let’s go tell it now.”
That got him. He can intimidate me all he wants. And yeah, it would bring some hell down on us too. But he wouldn’t walk away with his hands or his reputation clean. And that worries him. Because second only to his precious love of money is his social standing.
“So, it looks like we both have reasons to stay the fuck away from each other”—Dad looks to Cade—“and just finish out this goddamn season with a fucking state title. Then”—he whips his head back to me—“we never have to share the same space again.”
Oh, there’s going to be a title won. But it won’t be a football one for Saint Juliet. It’ll be mine. Because I will walk away the ultimate winner at the end of this. And my dad will be the loser. And not only of his lifestyle—of everything. Because I’m not simply going to make him suffer. I’m going to end his fucking existence in this world as he knows it. But I won’t end his life. That’d be too easy. Though, he’ll wish he were dead.
The only day he’ll regret more than the day I was born will be the one he didn’t end me while he had the chance.
20
CADE
It’d be easier to handle a live grenade than the unpredictable siren I follow down the hallway. Amazingly, she’s only told me to go fuck myself once today. Which is much better than yesterday. I’d lost count during the lazy Sunday of hanging around at her house. But I couldn’t bail.
It was bad enough to witness Coach put his hands on Ryder. Then the bastard proudly admitted to Morgan that he saw her in trouble solely to hurt her further while delighting in the fact that he got to her. Sadly, I think it’s because he expected her to react the same way we did—we all anticipated Morgan would lose her fucking mind. Although she did have a level of hurt and fury, it was a controlled one. And for some reason, that concerns me more. Any normal person would have lost their shit after finding out their father betrayed them so profoundly. But Morgan is anything but normal. Even if she wants to act like things are fine and it’s just another Monday afternoon at Saint Juliet as she heads to cheer practice, I know otherwise.
“Cade, wait up,” Topher calls out as he falls in step beside me. He’s been a little distant, but not freaking out like he was before he knew the full story of what happened with Lenny. I’m still not thrilled about him knowing, only because the more people who know, the higher the chance for someone to slip up.
He looks a little uncertain as he says, “Are we good?”
“Yeah.” The only reason I can’t hide my irritation is because we are good. Well, as good as can be expected given the situation. Which I’ve reassured Topher of several times already.
“Are you sure? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”
“Because I hate answering the same question over and over. Either take me at my word or don’t.”
Topher lets out a sigh. “I do. It’s just… between all the shit at school and home, my head is spinning.”
“Don’t blame you.” And I can relate, but that doesn’t mean I want to answer the same question over and over.
“Ava still won’t give me a chance. There’s something she’s not telling me.” He gives me a curious look. “Is there something else I should know about?”
I know as well as he does that there’s something else going on, but I have no clue exactly what. And knowing Morgan, it’s probably best for Toph’s sake that he stays out of it. I should too. But I won’t and can’t fault him for the same. “If I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
Morgan is already out of sight, heading to get ready for practice I’m guessing, as we head into the locker room.
“Whoa,” Topher breathes as I look over to his wide-eyed expression. It only takes me a few seconds to spot what he’s looking at before he asks, “What the fuck happened to him?”
I’m almost certain that Coach heard Topher’s question, but I make sure he hears my answer. “Looks like he fucked with the wrong person.”
Topher gives me an even more stunned expression as Coach shouts, “Crawford, my office. Now.”
Here we go. He was nowhere to be found around his own residence yesterday but probably thinks he’s safer here. Maybe I should tell him he’s not. Surely, I’ve been hanging around his daughter more than I should, because self-preservation is the last thing on my mind. I don’t care if we’re on school grounds or not, I’ll put my fist through his skull gladly.
I step into his office and watch the smug SOB take a seat behind his desk, his arms folding over his chest as he leans back, his head gesturing to the chair in front his desk. “Sit.”
“No.” I stand, watching as he takes a lingering assessment of me.
“We need to have a serious discussion. Because if you think this”—he points to his face—“is going to happen without consequence, then you have another thing coming.”
