I’m breaking all kinds of speed limits as I rush towards Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. One way or another, I’m getting answers.
Halfway to Atlanta, still on curving backroads, I glance out of my rearview mirror and see a black car speeding towards me. Someone else is in more of a hurry than I am. If the driver doesn’t slow down, he’ll push me off the road.
I wind down my window and wave at the driver to get in front of me, but he doesn’t, he pulls up beside me, then gets in front, skidding to a stop.
“Fuck.” I slam my breaks and miss him by an inch. The sudden jolt sends pain shooting down my arm. “What the fuck,” I shout, getting out of my car. “You trying to fucking kill me? I bang on the driver’s tinted window, and it rolls down.
Kayden gives a wave from the driver’s seat.
“Dude,” I say, wanting to punch his lights out, “not cool. What are you doing here?”
“Since I’m not too far away, thought I’d come say hi. Thought you’d still be at the cabin. Where you headed?”
“LA. I gotta go.”
“Not so fast. After our phone call this morning, and your voicemail, we have a few things to talk about.”
I get a good look at the passenger. Time stops. The. Fucking. Doctor. How is it even possible? My PI said he was in Orange County.
It takes everything I have not to lunge inside the car and kill him with my bare hands.
“Kayden, how did you find him?” Relief washes over me. “Jesus fucking Christ. You did it, man. You fucking did it. I knew I could rely on you. My PI told me he was in Orange County.”
“Chill, bro,” Kayden says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not what you think. Your PI is a douche and is following a false lead. I wanted to see how thorough he was, so I fed him some lies, which he then fed to you.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re not making any sense.”
He nods toward the grinning man in the passenger seat. “I’d like you to meet my cousin, Dr. Wyatt Lane.”
“What?” I say, confused. “What do you mean your cousin?”
“You’re so fucking dumb.” Kayden shakes his head slowly and gives a humorless laugh. “For two years, before you came along I sat on the bench biding my time, playing by the rules, doing what I had to do but then you, golden dick, comes along. With you around, I had no chance.” He removes his hands from the steering wheel and holds them up. “I did what I had to do to get my shot.”
Bile churns in my stomach. “Get out of the car and talk to me like a man.”
“There’s nothing else to say,” he says and shrugs. “Saw your latest fuck buddy up at your dad’s cabin. Not your usual type. A bit too homely for my liking. We left a message with her. Listen to it.”
“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“Bro, please, I’d never hurt a girl. Unless she asked me to.”
Before he can drive away, or roll up the window, I swing my fist and feel some satisfaction when I hear a crack and see blood trickle from his nose.
He ruined my life out of jealousy, out of spite. “Do you know what you’ve done? Thanks to you, I’ll never play at a pro level. No college team will look at me again.”
His lips twist into a smirk, and he swipes his forearm beneath his nose. “Sucks for you.”
I pull the door handle. The douche didn’t lock it. I reach for him and yank him as hard as I can from the car. I don’t care that his seat belt is still clicked in.
“Get out of the car you fucking coward.”
Shock covers his face, and before he has time to release his seat belt, I punch him right in the face. Kayden’s eyes take on a shocked, dazed look but then they turn mad, incensed. Like a growling animal, he releases his seatbelt and practically flies out of his car, knocking me against mine.
My lower back thuds against the bonnet and shocking pain races up my spine.
“Fucking bastard,” he snarls. “You’re done.” Kayden’s fist makes contact with my chin. Pain flares in my jaw and I’m momentarily stunned. He lifts his fist to punch me again, but I block him with my forearm.
Angling my arm, I hit his cheek hard enough to knock him to the ground. He lands on his ass and lowers his head, giving it a slight shake.
“Get up,” I spit. Anger and hatred for my supposed best friend swirl around my head. “Get the fuck up.”
Kayden jumps up and lunges toward me.
“Use this, Kayden,” I hear from the car. An aluminum slugger clangs to the ground at Kayden’s feet. He grabs it and holds it like a club. This day just got a lot worse.
“You’re never gonna play again, pretty boy.” The asshole swings the bat towards my shoulder, but before he makes contact, I jerk back, and to stay out of his reach, I move sideways.
He takes another swing, but I manage to duck out of the bat’s trajectory.
“I thought you were my friend.” I slam my fist into his stomach. The bat falls from his hands, and when he folds over, I uppercut his jaw. “I thought you had my back.”
He staggers to his feet, and when he straightens up, I catch his jaw again and again, but then he nails my ribs, and my breath whooshes out.
Fuck this. Before he can strike me again, I raise my fists and pummel his face, putting all my anger and disappointment into each blow. I don’t let up until he falls to the ground and his blood covers my aching knuckles.
I lift my foot to kick him, but when his eyes flicker open, and I see fear flash through them, I lower my foot and say, “You’re not fucking worth it. I might be done in football, but so are you.”
How am I going to prove what happened? How am I going to prove I was set up by someone I considered my best friend? All these years, he’s been guiding me and pushing me to be the best I can. I confided in him, trusted him, and all this time he hated me, was waiting to trip me up. Waiting for me to take a fall so he could take my place.
Without a glance in Kayden’s direction, I jump into my car, make a U-turn and go back towards the cabin.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fix this, but the first thing I need to do is tell Taylor the truth and apologize for my behavior and all the secrets I’ve been keeping from her.
Halfway to the cabin, my phone pings with missed calls and text messages. I hadn’t realized my service cut out in the backroads. I glance at my phone. They’re all from Taylor and range from, where are you? to fuck you.
When I reach the cabin, I race to the front door. It’s locked, and there’s no sign of Taylor’s car. She’s not here.
I grab my phone, I have to talk to her, but before I can dial her number, my dad’s number flashes up on my screen. My dad never calls, but I already know the reason why, and I brace myself for whatever he’s going to throw at me.
“We’re coming home early from honeymoon,” he says not bothering to say hello, “and when we get back, I expect you to be there. After Taylor’s frantic phone call, I called Coach Davis.”
How could she call my dad?
How could she betray me like that?