Page 27 of Runaway Girl
“Where do I begin? I don’t even know where to start,” I murmured as if I had reverted to a hopeless kid asking his dad to fix everything.
And like any caring parent, Rudy Harris remained solid and resolute.
“Give me your phone, son. Let’s make a few calls.”
A month had passed.
At times, I was so hopelessly lost I was drowning under the weight of all my fucked up choices. However, there were snapshots of clarity—small reprieves that felt like I was chipping away at the emotional baggage of my past.
Dad moved in. I started therapy. And after some inner turmoil, I finally shoved against those unfounded fears and pressed charges against Audrey Collins.
Her prime time special went viral, causing the demons of media hell to crash down on me. Deals were cancelled, sponsors deserted and I was forced to take leave—“for my own well-being”, Coach said.
I didn’t blame him. I was mentally wrung out, and that had taken a toll on my game. I was in the middle of a brutal legal battle, the case public and downright messy.
Audrey was conceited enough to think I wouldn’t retaliate. But when I finally broke through that invisible hold, the illusion of a mother figure evaporated to display the grotesque monster underneath.
She tried to destroy me. So that’s what I intended to do in return.
But despite that absolute shit storm, it was not my greatest source of contention. That was reserved for another—a female who continued to hold my attention and devotion above all else.
Alicia Thorne.
I sat beside the pool, staring down at the substitute phone with trepidation. No one had my new number, and all social media was shut down.
I knew her contact by heart, and I had typed out so many messages I’d lost count.
Temptation became a slow, aching torture.
I was desperate to hear Alicia’s voice, to feel her skin. I’d even settle for her scathing words. If I could only steal some small piece of her, to hold and cultivate, it would be enough.
However, every time I went to press send, that dreaded guilt would push forth, preventing the follow-through.
I couldn’t bring myself to be selfish. That’s all I’d been in the past.
Alicia didn’t deserve to be pulled into the chaotic mess of my life. She didn’t need a broken, fucked up man-child like me running her down and forcing her into my toxic space.
That’s when I vowed I would do more. I’d focus on my healing, develop into a better version of myself. Become worthy of her.
Alicia deserved the world. And that’s all I wanted to give—on a silver platter with me on my knees, in my rightful place before my queen.
Hold on for me, love. Just hold on.
Chapter 17
ETHAN
I was on a post-game high.
It was my first time back on the field, and I killed it. Sure, my personal life was still a comedic joke, but when I donned my football jersey and held that ball, a sense of normalcy clicked back into place.
So tell me why that balloon of elation suddenly burst when Alicia walked intomyfucking changing room with her latest boy toy.
Background noise simmered to a quiet lull, and my raucous team members seemed to melt into the background as all my focus was trained onthem.
He was lean, muscular and tall, with a pretty face to match… I wanted to punch him. My gaze didn’t stray, cataloguing their position, the familiarity of their interaction.
I hadn’t seen her for weeks, and I had fantasised about the moment we’d be reunited. What I hadn’t envisioned was Alicia’s arm casually strung in the loop of some random’s elbow. And that’s when the unsettling revelation hit—she wascomfortablewith him.
