2. Madelyn
MADELYN
Kayden:
Can we talk?
I stare at my phone, at the message open on my screen.
Then, the next text, sent thirty minutes after the first one.
Kayden:
Okay. Ignore me. I deserve it. But if the answer’s yes, meet me at Clearwater’s arena for the hockey game tonight after classes. 7 p.m.
What follows is a link to an e-ticket for the game.
I’m an idiot for being here.
Sitting on the bleachers as the hockey game I have zero interest in is about to start.
This must be another one of Kayden’s pranks, followed by his getting hired as a teacher at the school I work at today. He’s not going to show up.
I shiver and toss the phone into my handbag, cussing the moment I decided to follow my heart instead of my gut and walked in here. The arena is colder than I expected it to be, and my long pink skirt and thin white shirt aren’t the ideal outfit for a hockey game.
It’s my first time at one. Despite hockey being the most popular sport at our college campus, I never had any interest in watching a game. Not after the trauma that Kayden, who used to be a hockey player, left me with.
I frown as images of the past cloud my mind.
The reason why Kayden disappeared for seven years. The way things ended between us. What he did.
That’s it. I’m leaving.
I shouldn’t have come.
I rush to get out of my seat and sprint forward before bouncing back.
“Ouch.” I wince, the whole side of my face burning.
As I slowly regain my composure, I realize hands are holding me in place, and a big, muscular chest covered by a jersey is in front of me. I just bumped into him.
“You’re here.”
My stepbrother is standing in all his glory, in a different outfit than the one he had on at school today. His hair is covered by a backward hat, the dark gray and turquoise jersey he’s wearing I recognize as the team’s he used to play for in college, and the pants are simple gray joggers.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Kayden says, fingers still digging at my arms. “God, I can’t believe you didn’t change your phone number in all these years.” He laughs, but after seeing my face is as serious as an ice stone, his lips purse.
“Are you okay?”
“As if you’d care,” I hiss, trying to ignore the growing heat in my cheeks.
He looks way better than I ever remember, and I’ve had years to memorize his features.
There’s no trace of the rebel college guy he used to be. His gestures are manlier; his whole demeanor is.
He’s just as annoying, though.
“Come on, sis.” He caresses my arms. “I come in peace.”
I pull away from him. “In peace, my ass.”
There is no way I’ll trust his words. Not after everything he put me through.
“Hey!” A man behind us shouts, and we turn.
“Do you mind toning down whatever lovers’ quarrel you’re having and sitting down?” the curly-haired man wearing a hockey jersey says. He’s visibly frowning. “The game’s about to start, and we can’t see shit because of you.”
The woman sitting next to him nudges him.
“What?” He motions with his hands at her. “I paid to watch my game.”
“Sorry, man. We don’t want any trouble.” To my surprise, Kayden’s tone is apologetic, and he handles it maturely. Unlike what I’m used to seeing from him.
The old Kayden would have started a fight.
“Take a seat, and I’ll go get us some refreshments and snacks.” He motions for me to sit down. “Okay? We have a lot to talk about.”
I don’t want to. I want to leave. This was the worst idea ever.
But I’m an adult now, so I’ll handle this like an adult.
If Kayden can do it, so can I.
The crowd cheers as the hockey players enter the rink, and I take a seat again.
Kayden leaves and shows up a couple of minutes later with some sodas and cheesy nachos. He bends down to hand me one drink before taking a seat, and I fix on the black ink making an appearance under his jersey and ending right before the start of his neck. I can’t tell well. But is that a tattoo?
He didn’t have tattoos the last time I saw him.
When did he get it? Does he have more?
And why am I gnawing at my lip, staring at him?
“T-thanks.” I grab my soda and bite the straw instead.
“You’re welcome.”
Kayden takes his own seat and puts the box of nachos between his legs.
Great. Now I’ll never be able to eat them, and I’m starving.
“See? It’s not that hard to be civil with one another.”
I scoff. “If you gave a damn about being civil, you wouldn’t take the nachos all for yourself.”
“Who’s taking—” He pauses, stares at where he placed the snacks, and smirks. “You can reach them, sis.”
“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near your dick, Kayden.”
“Why?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Scared it might bite?”
I dart my gaze away, sipping from my drink and praying my hunger goes away.
“Or…” he says the words incredibly slowly, his voice lower. “Scared you won’t be able to stop yourself if you get too close?”
I stand up again on impulse, press the drink back to him, and fold my arms. “I don’t need this anymore. I’m leaving. This was a mistake.”
He places the nachos on the arm of his seat and stands up, with both drinks in his hands. “Wait! I’m sorry, I—”
The guy behind us clears his throat.
“Hold on.” Kayden glares at him and attempts to continue talking to me.
Another clearing of throat, louder this time.
“I said hold the fuck on, dude.” Kayden grits his teeth, his voice way louder than before.
The man goes on to ignore us, tilting his head to see the game that just started.
“I may have overdone it a bit. I’m sorry. It’s been a while. Old habits are hard to quit, Madelyn. That’s all. Stay.” He passes me back my drink. “Please?”
I sigh. “Fine. But the nachos are mine.”
“All yours. I’ll get you more if you want. Or hot dogs. Pretzels. Any requests?”
“How about less of you talking?”
We take our seats again.
“I’m afraid no can do, Little Demon.”
And there it is again—that nickname he grew so fond of calling me when we were young and stupid.
“Then stop beating around the bush, because you’re not here to watch the game. And I’m sure as hell not watching it.” I leave my drink aside and pop a gooey, cheese nacho into my mouth. “What do you want, Kayden?”
He fixes his deep blue eyes on mine. “What do you want, Maddy?”
“For starters? For you to stop doing…that.”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever it is you’re doing. The…” I point at him. “The staring deep into my eyes and trying to trap me. I’m not playing that game anymore.”
“I am not trying to do anything. Chill. Let’s talk.”
“About what?”
“About everything.” He pauses. He turns to me, leaning forward and picking out a streak of long brown hair from my face, pushing it behind my ear.
My heart skips a beat.
“I miss the pink, by the way,” he says.
“W-what?”
“The pink in your hair. From when I first met you.”
“Right.” I used to have some pink highlights in my hair when I was sixteen, but I dyed them brown to match the rest of my hair in college, and I never looked back. “Sorry.”
“Nah. You still look great. It was just a thought.”
“Okay. So, you wanted to talk about the past, right?” I’m the one leaning forward now, tugging at the collar of his jersey and pressing my mouth to his ear. “Are we finally going to discuss the sex tape that you leaked?”
He cackles. “That I leaked?” he repeats.
“Yep, that’s what I said.” I lean back in my seat now, looking away from him and to the front, catching a hockey player racing to shoot the puck to the opponent’s net.
“I didn’t leak it, Madelyn.” His voice is serious. “I told you that.”
“You lied to me and told me you didn’t do it,” I correct him. “But you’re the only one who could have done it, Kayden. I know you’re the one who recorded it. And you never insisted you didn’t after I called you out.”
I sneak a peek at him in hopes of catching his reaction.
Because seven years ago, Kayden had me on my knees, with his cock in my mouth.
And I don’t know why—maybe he wanted to have proof of the way he managed to corrupt me into doing what I did—but he took a video of us and leaked it to our whole college class in the middle of a presentation I had to give.
“No matter what I say, you’re not going to believe I didn’t do it. That’s why I stopped trying to convince you otherwise, Madelyn. Not because I did it. You never wanted to listen.”
“Okay, Mr. Innocent.” I roll my eyes. I don’t believe him one bit.
Turning me into a joke in front of the whole class and ruining our freshman year at college sounds like the perfect way for Kayden to have exited my life.
It suits the way he used to prey on me, bullying me throughout the years.
He’s been that way ever since that fateful day our parents met.
Hot and cold. Unpredictable. Hurting me one day, and nice the next.
I have no idea what’s going on through that head of his.
“You’re going to regret blaming me, Maddy,” he says.
The words send a chill down my spine.
“Are you threatening me right now?”
“No. I’m just telling you.” He leans back in his seat, his voice turning nonchalant. “Because it wasn’t me.”
“Whatever you say. Are we done?”
“No. That’s not what I’m here for.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Of course it isn’t. Then what is it you want to talk about, Mr. Innocent?”
He turns his face to me, a lopsided grin coating his lips. “Our living situation now that I’m back.”
“What do you mean? There’s no living situation,” I deadpan. “I’m living in my apartment, and you’re living…wherever it is you’re living.”
He sighs. “That’s the thing.”
A lump forms in my throat. I don’t like the sound of that.
“You know better than I do that I’d rather sleep on the streets than set foot in my father’s house. Not that he’d welcome me there.”
“Right.”