Page 5 of Daring You

On a roar, I toss his head against the car again. He grunts, something cracks, but I’m past caring.

“Let them know. Let them come for me. At least then, I don’t have to deal with rats like you, looking to make a buck off other people’s nightmares.”

Dodge’s eyes flutter, and I consider that maybe I’m knocking him unconscious.

Like I give a damn.

“You’ll never win,” I say after another rally and launch. His shoulder cracks against the windshield. The car’s alarm goes off. “I’m out. I’ll pack my bags tonight. I’m leaving. You’ve got nothing left to wager, Dodge.”

“Ben? Shit, Ben!”

Stomping feet come up behind me, hands gripping my shoulders to throw me back. I’m in beast mode and ready to maul whoever decided it was a good idea to touch me, but when I see it’s Locke, when I register his face, pale with fear, a palm held out to keep me away from Dodge, I think, So, this is how I’m going to say good-bye to you, brother.

“What the fuck?” Locke says. “What are you doing to him?”

“What he deserves.” I swipe an arm across my mouth, shocked to see the sleeve of my shirt slick with blood. Dodge must’ve gotten in a few hits himself.

“Do you know what this can do?” Locke asks. “Forget him, what about you? Coach finds this out—”

“I’m out anyway.”

Glancing around, I find my duffel in the middle of the parking lot. I sling it over my shoulder and start towards my dented car.

“You’re leaving?” Locke says behind me. “You don’t think I deserve some kind of explanation? Where are you going, Ben?”

“It’s better if you don’t know,” I say over my shoulder. But I falter. I’m annoyed I’m even thinking it, but I say it anyway, “You’ve been a good friend, Locke. I’ll never forget that.”

“Huh?”

Poor guy. Locke’s standing there with the crumpled form of a bloody former teammate on one side, and the supposed best friend on the other who won’t give him any answers. Locke doesn’t know Dodge very well, or what he represents. If I’m honest, Locke doesn’t know me very well, either. But it’s better if he stays away from both of us.

“Ben!” Locke roars, but I don’t slow my steps.

Being a good guy, Locke won’t leave Dodge. He needs to grab help, maybe take him to a hospital.

Perhaps that’ll be where Dodge spills the beans. To the doctor, or a nurse, or some other medical professional. They’ll make a few calls. Police will get involved. Then I’ll get a phone call, probably from my handler, saying, “jig is up, Ben. We gotta move you.”

Well. That’s the nice version.

Either way, my dreams will be crushed. Everything I’ve worked for, gone. That whoosh of smoke that should’ve killed me as a kid will return, this time snuffing out my efforts, my luck, my fantasies of making a new name for myself.

If I thought screwing Astor would keep everything in place, I still wouldn’t do it. Astor doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment or require that kind of scar when she realizes why I slept with her. If she’d even allow it, that is. Jury’s still out on how she feels about me.

But I prefer the memories of making her smile, of drawing out her laughs and getting lucky brushes of her soft skin on the pads of my fingers. I’ll take those flashbacks with me, instead of seducing her in order to preserve this fictitious life I’ve crafted.

I should’ve known better.

The butt of my jeans vibrates, and I wonder if it’s my handler, if Dodge has put out some sort of mass email laying me out for all to see. If he’s capable of being that premeditative.

I pull my phone out, expecting the worst, but instead, it’s Astor.

Can you come by? I need to talk to you.

Wha?

That simple request has me debating everything. I should start my car and get on the road to disappearing forever, without looking back. But that’s the complete opposite of what I want to do.

Two years. I’d gotten comfortable in this life and I seriously didn’t want to leave it. Leave Astor this way. She deserves more…maybe not the full explanation, because I could never do that, but at the very least, a goodbye.

Yeah. That’s what I’ll do. I have time. Dodge is knocked out pretty good and may want to spend a few moments weighing his options before he sings like a canary. Even if I don’t have it, I’ll make the time.

Sure, I text back, and pocket my phone.

Expression grim, I duck in to my car and drive over to Astor’s place, but Locke’s confused, betrayed expression won’t leave my rearview until I turn the corner out of the lot.

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