Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
An employee from the hotel is carrying a small, nondescript envelope. Interesting. Maybe not from Molly after all.
I reach into my pocket with my free hand, grab a wad of bills, and tip him before taking the envelope and shutting the door.
Even stranger is when I look at the white envelope, and the only thing written on it is my name. In neat uppercase letters.
I furrow my brow. The handwriting looks familiar, but I can’t place it.
I place my glass down and rip it open. Inside is a single photograph. One from a long time ago.
I flip over the card. My breath catches in my throat. Memories of that night come flooding back, unwanted and vivid.
The handwriting. I know the handwriting, but it’s the note scribbled that has chills running down my spine. The past always has a way of haunting us.
I drop the photograph as if it singed my fingers. My mind races a million miles a minute.
Who sent this? Do they know?
Maybe it’s just a coincidence.
Anger and fear surge up, threatening to overwhelm me.
My heart pounds in my chest. It feels like I might throw up.
I flop down on the couch. The weight of it crushing me. Guilt and regret swallowing me whole.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” an angry voice booms from the now open front door of the house. I peer up and see my uncle Jim storming toward me. The man is a mean son of a bitch.
I sit up taller. “You’re going to have to be a little clearer. I do a lot of shit,” I respond, trying my best not to let him see fear. If my uncle sees blood in the water, he’ll pounce.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you little shit.”
From the corner of the room, the small face of my sister pops through the open door that leads to the basement. She was downstairs playing and must have heard the commotion. I meet her gaze and give my head a little shake, not large enough for Uncle Jim to notice, but enough that she knows what I’m telling her. To leave.
It would be bad if he caught her.
“You’re a kid. There’s no way you really think you’re going to win.”
“I will.”
“With what money? You have no income.” He sneers at me. “Don’t fuck with me, Dane.”
I stand from the couch, stalking over to where my uncle stands. “Get out.”
“Big, tough guy. Let’s see how tough you are when I make sure you get none of your parents’ money.” He laughs before turning around and leaving the house.
“Your uncle is an ass.” I turn to see my friend Nick sitting there.
Fuck. I forgot he was there.
“So what’re you going to do?”
I bury my head in my hands. “I have no idea.”
How the hell am I going to get the money to fight my uncle for custody of Molly.
“I might just have an idea that will solve all your problems . . .”
What am I going to do?
My whole life is based on a lie, and now—
No. This is just a coincidence. I shake my head back and forth, and if it’s not?
My phone rings, and I see a text coming through.
It’s Hellfire.
I can’t see her.
Not now and, depending on if this threat is real, not ever.
If my secret gets out . . . life as I know it will never be the same.
What if Coach finds out? He’ll never let me near his team, let alone his daughter.
The more I think about it, the more I know I need to break up with Hellfire to protect her.
And that leaves four problems.
First—I don’t want to break up with her.
Second—I refuse to hurt her feelings.
Third—it’s im-freaking-possible to break up with someone without hurting their feelings.
And fourth—I DON’T WANT TO BREAK UP WITH HER.
In the end, I know I need to be firm, or my persistent hellfire will scent out my weakness. She always does.
I stare at my phone, my hands trembling.
Do it.
Dane: Something came up. I won’t be able to see you.
Hellfire: Are you okay?
Dane: Yes.
I bury my face in my hands. I did the right thing.
There was no choice to be made.
This is for the best.
55
JOSIE
We’re in New York today. The Saints are playing the Empires tonight, but since we have a few hours before the game, and Dane canceled on me yesterday, I’ve decided to take Molly up on her offer to go sightseeing with her.
“So, where to first?” I ask her as we step outside the hotel the team stayed in last night in New York City.
“You’ve never been, right?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Then today, we are tourists.” She winks.
“And as tourists, where should we go?”
“Hmm, Times Square?”
“I saw it last night while we were driving in. Seemed crowded.” I grimace playfully.
Molly laughs beside me. “It is, but isn’t all of the city?” she deadpans.