Page 119 of Fair Catch

And as much as I don’t want to believe it, he has no reason to lie to me.

Not about this.

“Blackmail?” I echo, the word barley coming out more than a whisper.

Kason winces, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s more blackmail or extortion or bribery—”

“What are you talking about, Kase?” I cut in, searching his face. “When did this happen?”

“Your mother found me outside tonight at the party. She and your father offered me,” he pauses, letting out a sharp, watery laugh. “Well, a lot of money—”

My hackles rise instantly. “How much did they offer you?”

Gone is his confusion, leaving only pain building to agony. I can see it in his eyes, he doesn’t want to answer. Just like I’m sure he can see it in mine that I need him to.

“Twenty-thousand dollars plus buying out my portion of the lease.”

And now it’s my turn to vibrate, but not with fear or worry. With rage.

Over the past few months, I’ve gotten to really know Kason. See the guy he really is—not just the football star everyone else seems to see. His damage, his truths, his fears and dreams have all been laid bare before me. There’s no ulterior motive with him, no desire to hurt anyone if he can help it.

So I know it has to kill him to dismantle the image I’ve had of my parents for my entire life with that single sentence.

And I fucking hate her for it.

“What did you tell her?” I ask, my voice a deadly whisper.

“I said no, of course.” He finally pulls away, staring up at me with warm, green eyes that I’ve come to know as my favorite color. “Hayes, I’m not interested in their money or yours. The fact that you have as much as you do makes me feel…inferior.”

Shaking my head, I cup the side of his face. “It’s just money, baby. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Well, your parents don’t seem to share that sentiment,” he utters in abject defeat.

But I’m not fucking having it.

“Then it’s a good thing it’s not their fucking decision, isn’t it?” I tell him, my voice low and calm, though I feel anything but.

Kason worries his lower lip with his teeth, and though this conversation should be resolved, a heavy sense of foreboding sits on my chest. Because none of his anxiety has lessened. If anything, it’s only ratcheted up another twenty levels.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I whisper, my thumb tracing over his cheekbone. When he nods solemnly, it’s like a vice tightens around my lungs. “Tell me.”

“She said if I didn’t accept the offer, then they’d bring the option to you. Threaten to cut you off, tank your future, the whole shebang.”

My stomach drops, and I swear the entire world tilts on its axis.

That they’d stoop so low, go to these lengths…it’s proof that I barely know the people who’ve raised me.

“They didn’t say a word to me this evening. Even after you’d left.”

“No, they wouldn’t have yet. They gave me a chance to reconsider their offer now that I know the stakes.” He clears his throat before he adds, “They want my answer by the end of the week.”

I drop down from my elbow onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, willing myself to wake up from whatever bad dream this is. Because that’s what it has to be, right? Some ridiculous nightmare that my subconscious is cooking up from stress and worry.

There’s no way this is reality.

And yet…

“This is insane,” I mutter, shoving my fingers through my hair. “Why would they do this?”