Page 28 of Pump Fake

“There is no college fund. You should know that, as your father and I were no longer able to pay for your tuition, let alone continue living our intended lifestyle.” Ice-blue eyes, identical to mine, regarded me coldly. “College isn’t necessary. Several prospects among our peers would serve her better than wasting time at university. I raised her to take her place in society and expect her to do so.”

I counted to ten to contain my outburst at her delusional reality. It hadn’t been like that when I’d gone away to school. Mom and Dad were caught up in their own world, barely paying attention to where I’d gone. They’d paid without a second thought for the first handful of semesters, until their accounts were frozen. And from what Ser had said, Mom had initially brushed aside her concern for Stanford, saying the money for that was intact. It seemed she’d lied.Now she’s trying to force Ser into a societal marriage?I could barely process the archaic ideology.

The waiter swept in unobtrusively and refilled Mom’s wine. When he left, I struck. “This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. Serena is going to college, and you can’t stop her.” She was becoming more delusional by the glass.

It seemed my meeting with Mom was a waste of time. I’dhoped she would confess to some money squirreled away for Ser.

“She’ll do her part to help this family.” Mom leaned forward. “And so will you. It’s high time I found you a wealthy man.”

Our salads arrived in the silence between us. Mom’s eyes were mutinous, and her lips pinched in a way she would call unbecoming if my sister or I did it. With a subtle glance at my watch, I calculated how much time I could waste before I had to leave for the classes I taught at Linwood Prep.

I stabbed at my salad and choked it down, refusing to snap at Mom any more than I already had. Her way of thinking was absurd, and I had no idea where she got off, assuming Ser could save the family by marrying the son of one of Mom’s wealthy friends. As for her backhanded comment about finding one for me, I had the perfect fall guy to stop that train of thought. “I’m good. I’m dating someone—Ares Bellingham, NFL-bound this year.”

Mom paused, her gaze bouncing between my eyes until it appeared she accepted my word as truth. “Good. Then I won’t have to worry about you. As for your sister, Douglas is interested in her, and he’s a great catch. She would be foolish not to date him. I know he’s looking to get married, and it’ll bring our family back into the respectable lifestyle we’re accustomed to.”

See?Delusional. “If—and that’s a huge if—Ser is interested in him, that’ll have zero effect on the rest of us.” I waved my hand between us. It was a moot point. Ser would be eighteen in November. And I wouldn’t go a round with my mom about my sister’s sexual preferences, as Mom wouldn’t accept them. “Forget it. How are things going? Have you talked to Dad recently?” I hated asking. It was such a point of contention in my mind.

“Of course I have. We talk daily. The lawyer thinks your father will be released early and home in three years.”

The fork slipped from my fingers, the clatter loud against the plate. Mom scowled.

“I’m surprised, but that’s good news.” They would have to move. I couldn’t see things going the way Mom expected with their friends.

Mom gulped her wine, her hand trembling slightly. “It’s not soon enough. Some of your father’s unscrupulous business associates are closing in. I need him out quickly so he can handle them.”

“What are you talking about?”

She’d mentioned something else the last time I was at the apartment, but I hadn’t taken her seriously because she was drunk.

Veronica leaned forward, her gaze darting around. “They wouldn’t follow us in here, but they’re out there.”

“Who are they?”

“The mafia,” she whispered.

My mouth formed an O, but no words came out. I remembered spotting a man in the park when I walked Ser back to the academy. There was no way.Right?I just couldn’t imagine my dad getting involved with the mob.Why would he?Our family had wanted for nothing.

We said very little the rest of lunch, and when I walked to my car, I had the distinct feeling of being watched.Or is Mom’s paranoia rubbing off on me?

Things didn’t get better after that. I was in a horrible mood when I got to the academy. Between classes and every chance I got while the students were busy doing self-guided study, I tried to research what I could around the rumors about Dad’s shady business dealings. Before my last class, I stepped into the hall to call a detective who had worked on Dad’s case, only to get his voicemail. I left a detailed message then walked into class a minute before it started, head down and scrolling through my phone.

In retrospect, I should have known something would happen, as the classroom was deadly quiet. As distracted as I was, I never saw it coming and was doused by a bucket of blue-tinged water when I crossed the threshold. When I managed to clear my eyes, I lifted my head only to lock gazes with the little delinquent. The look I gave him promised retribution.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ARES

Liam and I walked from campus to the training facility to get taped before practice. Our last class of the day let out a half hour before we needed to be there, but I liked it that way. The extra time helped me systematically dismiss anything weighing on me so I could focus. Football was my dream. I’d wanted to get drafted into the NFL for as long as I could remember. It was the same for Kylian and Liam and why we’d decided to room together during our first year in college. I’d recognized in them the same drive and dedication for the sport as I had.

“You should come out after the game. I could use my wingman at Last Call,” Liam said.

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t need me. I’m gonna pass.”

The buzz in the crowd hurrying to and from classes wasn’t new. People parted for us but not without notice. We were used to the attention as Fall Lake football royalty. Liam ate it up. Kylian and I kept to ourselves for the most part. And Kyl only had eyes for his fiancée.

Liam flashed a smile at a group of sorority sisters we knew who called out to him. “Are you getting serious about that girl?”

“Brielle? I like her. We’re not dating, though, if that’s what you mean.” It felt weird to say it, as she’d been over almost every night for the past couple of weeks. “We’re not serious.”Or am I just convincing myself of that?Because it was easy between us already.

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