Page 100 of Out of the Shadows

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***

I stood on the sidelines, pom-poms in hand, but my focus was on the field. The chaos of practice faded as I watched the football coach’s expression darken, his voice cutting through the noise. “Nico! My office. Now.”

Nico sauntered over, trying to maintain his cocky smirk, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. I was ready for justice.

As Nico followed the older man, I caught a glimpse of Colt. He looked tense, like a coiled spring, but there was a glimmer of determination in his gaze. This was the moment we’d been waiting for. Nico had brought this on himself, and I felt a dark satisfaction settle in my stomach.

Minutes felt like hours as I tried to concentrate on the cheers and stunts, but all I could think about was what was going on in the coach’s office. Finally, the door to the locker room swung open and out stepped Nico, his face drained of color. Gone was the swagger; he looked like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What the hell happened?” one of the other players yelled, but Nico didn’t answer. He was practically marching toward the locker room, his fists clenched tightly against his sides.

I glanced back at Coach, who was standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but fierce. Whatever conversation they had just had was serious. A wave of satisfaction washed over me. He deserved to be held accountable for the things he’d done, and I was pleased to know Colt was finally getting some revenge for Nico’s part in this.

A thrill ran through me as I looked back to the spot where Nico had disappeared into the locker room. This was a turning point — Nico had messed with the wrong people, and now he was about to find out how serious the consequences could be.

As I watched the players begin their drills again, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope.

One down, one to go.

Thirty Six

Hailey

I clutched the leather of the seat beneath me. The confrontation with my father was inevitable, but the tension that had built up over the days leading to our flight home for Christmas break was almost unbearable. I almost wished I could have called him and gotten it over with, but this had to be done face-to-face. I needed that closure to move on.

The atmosphere in the car was tense as we mentally prepared for the confrontation.

Colt reached over the center console and placed his hand on my thigh, the warmth of his fingers seeping into my skin and making me realize how cold I actually was. I shivered, and Colt turned up the heat.

“I’m with you,” he said, his voice deep and calm.

“I know. I’m not really scared, just anxious. This isn’t really something you do every day.”

“No …” He shook his head slowly. “Thank fuck it’s not.”

An involuntary chuckle escaped me, and some of the tension fell away. We pulled up in front of my parents’ house, and like last time, they were waiting for us, the perfect picture. How deceptive appearances can be. Instead of a brunch where we all just put on an act, Colt and my dad went straight to his office this time — where I would follow them in a moment, after dealing with Mom.

As I stepped into the lavish living room, her fingers were skimming the rim of a champagne glass, her nails painted her signature nude pink. She didn’t look up right away.

“Hailey, you’ve been avoiding us,” she said, her tone light but pointed, like a barb hidden beneath velvet.

“Just Dad, really,” I stated, leaning against the back of the sofa. “But I guess that’s okay with you.”

Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a split second, I thought I saw guilt. Then it vanished, replaced by her usual mask of composure. “You know how your dad is. He always thinks about what’s best for us.”

“For us?” I let out a sharp laugh. “You mean for him.”

“Hailey,” she said with a sigh, her tone teetering between exasperation and warning. “You’re young. You don’t understand the sacrifices—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I interrupted. “I understand that you let him use me, Mom. You didn’t even try to stop him.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she set the glass down carefully, as if breaking it would mean losing control. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” I snapped. “You’re right. It’s not. None of this is. But I guess as long as you can keep the money rolling in and the parties going, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Her face hardened. “Watch your tone, young lady. I’ve done more for this family than you’ll ever know.”

“Then maybe you should have done something for me,” I shot back, my voice low but sharp.