Chapter Three
Trey
T oo much time has passed.
I need to eat. I need to take meds. I need to sleep.
I’m slipping into that familiar cave of despair. Pain curling around my skull, crushing it inside its sadistic fist. Bile rises up my throat as I clench my eyes closed.
This was a bad idea.
By the time we reach the cabin, I stumble out of the truck, making a beeline for the toilet. I puke my fucking guts up as the headache intensifies. The light in the bathroom goes out and then someone is crouching beside me, their soft touch comforting me.
“Eat this,” Charlotte says, handing me a sandwich. “After you get that in you, I have some water and your meds.”
Shakily, I take the sandwich from her and chew it down. I hurt too badly to taste any of it. Once the cool water chases down the food, I take the offered meds. She stands, turns on the sink, and then turns it back off. A cool rag is settled on the back of my neck.
She leaves me in the bathroom, checking on me every so often. Cal and her whisper quietly—thank God—before she comes back for a millionth time.
“Why don’t you go rest?” she suggests. “Dad said it’ll take a bit for the medicine to kick in.”
I slowly rise to my feet and make my way back to the room. The windows have been covered by a blanket that’s been tacked to the wall. I want to hug her and thank her, but the pain drags me into bed instead. The moment the throbbing slows its murderous torture, I pass the fuck out.
Buzz.
It’s dark by the time I wake. I squint at the bright light of my phone that now sits on the nightstand, plugged in. I’m not sure how it got there, but I accept the fact it must have been Charlotte or Cal.
I reach over to fetch my phone to see I’ve missed some texts.
Roan: We’re having a small get-together for New Year’s. You coming?
Me: Sure.
Roan: Cool. Bring a date if you want.
Me: Is your dad available?
He sends me fifty or so middle finger emojis, making me chuckle.
Me: Kidding, bitch.
Roan: You could bring Lacey…
Her name has anger picking at my heart that feels scabbed over. It’s dumb to pine over a girl I slept with one night. We weren’t in love. Hell, she barely even liked me. But, because of that night, I think I might have fathered her kid. A small part of me wonders if I could talk to her, maybe she’d see that I’m not the asshole she clearly wanted to get away from. I could be a family man if I needed to be.
Me: Garrett has a big-ass mouth.
Roan: He’s my father-in-law and you’re one of my best friends. I saw him today and he mentioned what went down. You think you knocked up Lacey?
Me: Remember when you saw Sebban? That feeling that hit you right in the chest? Like you just KNEW?
Roan: Yeah, man. I do.
Me: That’s how it was. I looked into that little girl’s eyes and just knew.
Roan: So what happens now?
Me: I need to find Lacey. Find out why she’s hiding in Florida and letting her dad babysit my fucking kid.
Roan: I called Samantha to fill her in. She helped me. She could help you.
Me: I don’t have money for that.
Roan: We’ll figure it out.
Me: Gotta run.
I have nowhere to run, but the last thing I need is Roan playing hero when it comes to me. I can handle my own shit. I’ll find Lacey so we can have a heart to heart, and then I’ll see about getting shared custody of my daughter.
What if she’s not yours?
It’d be for the best. I’m damn near handicapped after my accident, barely have a job, room with my buddy, and don’t have a cent to my name. Taking on a kid when I can hardly take care of myself seems like icing on this “Fuck Trey” cake. Still, if she’s mine, I’ll figure out how to manage.
Blood before bullshit.
I notice another text from Grandma telling me to come get my shit. Another day. Definitely not this one. Slowly, making sure the migraine doesn’t make me its bitch, coming out of the shadows like the boogieman, I crawl out of bed. I grab some clean clothes and head for the bathroom. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I follow my nose once again.
Charlotte is my new favorite person.
She’s cooking up something that makes my mouth water. I’m almost to the kitchen where Cal has her pressed against the counter, kissing her like he’s trying to possess her body with his goddamn devil soul when I sense someone, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, Smash.”
Penny sits on one end of the couch, giant headphones covering her ears rather than her usual AirPods, sipping on a bottle of water. Her blue eyes are dimmed and dark circles ring her eyes. I knew something was up at tryouts earlier today. She was off. Edgier than usual. A bomb ready to explode.
“Hey, mean-ass.” I flop down on the couch next to her, kicking my bare feet up on the coffee table. “What are you doing here?”
“Dad and Jace are watching football.” She cringes. “They’re so loud.”
I study her soft, feminine features. Penny is one of those naturally pretty girls like Charlotte, but she frowns so goddamn much you almost don’t notice. Of course I notice. My dick notices pretty things. Getting my head cracked open like an egg didn’t change shit where that’s concerned.
“It’s quiet here,” she says, hugging her knees that are pulled to her chest. Penny is covered in layers. Thick socks. Sweatpants. Hoodie.
“Thank fuck,” I murmur. “What happened today?”
Her blue eyes harden and her lips thin out as she presses them together. “I played like shit.” She shrugs. “Blame my period.”
“Don’t lie,” I drawl out. “We both know something set you off.”
She swallows, her throat moving in a way that draws the eye. “I like to dribble.”
“So you had a meltdown when I wouldn’t let you?”
“Stop talking.”
I arch a brow at her, noting how she shudders. Her fingers mash at her phone as she turns up the volume. My eyes flick to see what song she’s using to drown me out.
White noise.
Not the song, the sound.
She shoves her phone inside the pocket of her hoodie, closing her eyes. I study her features, wondering what’s going on with her. Drugs? Penny doesn’t seem the type. She’s an athlete through and through. Cares too much about being the best—which she fucking is. Despite her meltdown, she killed it today. The team is lucky to have her.
Penny cracks an eye open. When she catches me staring, her nostrils flare, and she smashes her eyes closed again. A smile tugs at my lips. She’s such a brat. A cute one, but still a brat. Always up in everyone’s shit, throwing shade at them like it’s her job in life.
She’s wearing her blond hair in a ponytail like usual. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with it down. Ever. I’ve known her since before she hit puberty. Back when she was one of those zombie kids obsessed with her iPad and shit. It’s fascinating to me that she changed so much over the years.
Reaching over, I tap on her pert nose, getting her attention. She pulls the headphones off, her signature scowl morphing her features.
“Staring’s rude, Humpty Dumpty.”
“I wasn’t done talking to you,” I murmur. “You can’t shut people out because you don’t want to talk to them.”
I’ve hit a nerve because she bristles.
“What?” she demands, fatigue in her voice. “Are you going tell me I played like shit? That I won’t make the team?”
No tears or wobble of her lip. Nothing.
Expressionless. Seemingly uncaring.
Her eyes don’t lie, though. They flash with shame.
“You goofed on one drill,” I admit, “but, let’s be real, Penny. You whipped everyone’s ass today.”
Her blue eyes widen slightly. “I can do better.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I reach over, tugging at a loose strand of blond hair. “You made the team in case you were worried. You and Sonya both.”
She relaxes, the tension bleeding from her body. “Good.”
“You going to Roan’s New Year’s gig?”
“It’s either that or hang out with Jace and Dad.” Her lip curls up. “I’m not eager to spend an evening watching Dad suck the face off his girlfriend while Jace watches.”
“He watches them make out?” I ask, amused by this tidbit of information.
“Jace is a freak,” she reveals. “I bet he did all sorts of freaky shit in prison. Probably had orgies with guards and stuff.” Her eyes flash with wickedness. “We should ask Jordy if he was into it too.”
I smother a laugh as I imagine Penny asking Jordy what sort of sexual shit he got up to while in the pen. That poor fucking guy will never live that shit down. I sure hope Little Hornet was worth it all.
“Keep your ten-inch dick away from my little sister,” Cal says as he saunters into the living room.
She flips him the bird before retreating back to her headphones. Cal’s an idiot. Like I’d be trying to get into the pants of Penny English. A fucking teenager. I’m too old for her, not to mention, I prefer my women sweet.
Penny is fucking sour.
She’s way cooler as a friend who likes to give me shit any way she can.
Still, I can admit she’s pretty. She’ll make some guy her age very happy one day. Or girl. Hell, maybe she’s bumping uglies with my cousin for all I know.
The thought of Sonya fucking anyone makes me cringe.
Fucking gross.
“Dude,” Cal mutters, punching me in the arm with his good hand as he plops down on the other side of me. “What’s going on?”
I tear my stare from Penny’s nose that I only noticed tonight is sprinkled with a dash of freckles. “Hmm?”
“You, man. You’re checking Penny out.” His brow is lifted, confusion swimming in his green eyes as he picks at a frayed end of his yellow cast.
“I’m not checking her out,” I grumble. I’m not. “I was checking on her. Your player ass doesn’t know the difference yet. The rest of the human population can see women as more than something to stick their dicks into.”
Cal snorts. “Please. Save me the hero speech. Like your ass wasn’t fucking your way through every female at OSU.”
“Just because I like to fuck doesn’t mean I want to fuck everyone I come in contact with.”
“If you guys are done comparing who was the biggest manwhore in college, the spaghetti is ready,” Charlotte says, interrupting our bickering.
Like she has him tethered on a string, Cal rises to his feet, making his way over to her. I take the moment to peek over at Penny. Her eyes are zeroed in on them, watching them with barely hidden interest. It makes me want to ask her what she’s thinking about. When she catches me staring, she rolls her eyes, yanking off her headphones.
“Cal,” she calls out, “your ugly friend is broken. He won’t stop staring.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her as I stand. “You’re such a little asshole, English.” I hold my hand out to her, offering to help her up from the couch.
She eyes it like it’s a venomous snake. I could grab her hand and haul her up, but something in her tight expression has me dropping my hand at my side. She scrambles to her feet, unassisted, and walks around the coffee table, keeping herself at a distance from me.
The dark, disgusting thoughts that sometimes overwhelm me rear their ugly heads.
You’re a freak show, T.
They can’t look at you now.
“Don’t stand there looking like I kicked your puppy,” Penny says, her eyes sharp as she cuts them through me. “Just because I don’t wanna hold hands like a lovesick groupie doesn’t mean I don’t like you, ugly.”
Her words chase away the shadows in my mind. Penny always has a way of doing that. Cutting through the bullshit and telling it like it is, but in a way that makes you laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, mean-ass. I’m coming.” I tug on her blond ponytail. “Lead the way.”