Page 34 of Sin Bin Bully

I just need them safe, though. They can hate me otherwise. "Listen to me, Avery. You and Zander stay away from there, you hear me? Don't go anywhere near that house."

"Yeah, I know. We're not stupid."

"I mean it," I insist, my voice cracking. "Promise me."

"I promise, okay? Jeez." He pauses, then adds softly, "When are you coming home, Kim?"

The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I look up at Sam, who's watching me intently, his expression unreadable.

"I... I don't know," I whisper, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "But I'll figure something out. Just take care of yourself and Zander. I love you both."

"Love you too," Avery mumbles before hanging up.

The line goes dead, and I'm left staring at the phone in my hand, feeling more helpless than ever.

15

SAM

Sam

The phone rings, jarring me from my thoughts. Joe's name flashes on the screen. I snatch it up, hoping for good news.

"What's the verdict?"

"Sam, I'm sorry. The test came back positive."

My grip tightens on the phone. "That's impossible. I didn't take anything."

"I know, but-"

"No buts, Joe. This is bullshit." I slam my fist into the wall, though it doesn't go through this time. "I want a retest."

"It's not that simple. The league's already made their decision. You're banned from practices until further notice."

My blood boils. "They can't do this. I'm clean, dammit!"

"I believe you, but we need proof. For now, lay low. I'll see what I can do."

The line goes dead. I hurl the phone across the room, watching it shatter against the wall.

This can't be happening. I've worked too hard, sacrificed too much. And for what? To be accused of cheating?

I pace the room, my mind racing. There has to be an explanation. Someone must have tampered with the test. But who? And why?

I need to think, and I can't fucking think straight right now. So I go to the only place that helps to clear my mind.

I storm into my home gym, the rage coursing through my veins like liquid fire. The weights clang as I snatch them up, my muscles straining under the load. With each rep, I push harder, faster, trying to outrun the fury threatening to consume me.

Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes. I don't bother wiping it away. The burn feels good, grounding me in this moment of chaos.

As I move from machine to machine, my mind wanders to Kim. Her graceful movements, the curve of her lips, the fire in her eyes when she defies me. My body responds, a primal urge taking over.

I grunt, pushing through another set. The image of Kim's skin, smooth and inviting, flashes through my mind. My shorts tighten uncomfortably.

"Fuck," I mutter, dropping the weights with a loud clatter.

I've lost track of time, lost in the punishing rhythm of my workout and the tantalizing thoughts of Kim. My shirt clings to my body, soaked through with sweat. My breathing comes in heavy pants.

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