Page 123 of Treacherous
I look up, meeting his eyes and remember that I'm angry at him. “Me? Why did you drag me away?”
“You’re on your seventh vodka shot, plus drinking five of whatever was in your cup.”
The wide hallway is consumed by shadows, while purple and red flashing lights linger out the corner of my eye, stretching from the dining room. The porch light casts a beam over Jayden’s face, subjecting me to seeing his usual scowl and sculptured jaw.
Why do I find him attractive? It must be the alcohol.
“Caught your attention, did I? Well, I’m not interested, go find a girl who cares.”
“This isn’t going to fly for the whole season. You need to stop drinking. In fact, I’m cutting you off right now.”
Red blinds my vision, my lungs working overtime to suck in oxygen. Fuck him. And not in the fun way.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?”
“I’m the fucking captain, so Icancontrol what you do.”
Control. Control. Control.
That fucking word live rent free in my mind. I hate it. Sweat drips from every crevice of me, as I search for anything to keep me grounded. I can’t revisit the past. I don’t wanthiscoercivewords taunting my mind or running my life for longer than he already did.
My muscles tighten, Jayden’s words sinking in. Tears prick the corner of my eyes, the mask that conceals the wounds underneath my skin, slowly slips away. Fingertips press against my damp cheek and I flinch.
I step back. I need to…I. My lungs constrict and–
“Willow. What’s going on? You’re shaking.” Jayden’s whispers, concern lingering in his tone.
I link my fingers together, willing the shaking to stop. Why does he care? He yelled at me. I push past Jayden, sparing one last glance at him before bolting up the stairs. My name being yelled from the bottom floor is drowned out by the music playing on the other side of the house.
I don’t stop. I can’t.
The last person I need to see me likethis–like I’m being pulled apart by the fucking seams is Jayden.
After entering my room, I slip into my pyjamas and wash my face. I stare in the mirror, unable to look away from my bloodshot eyes. My lethargic body doesn’t hold me up any longer, collapsing onto my bed. Sliding the covers over my body, I push Jayden and the past out of my mind.
I can't let their words get to me.
Chapter 9
Jayden Allen
Active Hour is close to empty at this time of morning, my grunts reverberating in the gym as I complete my final rep.
I grip the barbell, tensing while it sits on my shoulders. My gaze is on the mirror, checking my posture and the rise and fall of my chest. I engage my muscles, returning from a squat to a standing position. The iron weight rattles against the rack as I place it back.
The first crack of light filters in the windows, reflecting off the mirror and onto my face. Purple bags linger under my eyes from my lack of sleep but despite this, I still came to the gym for a personal session.
I find sweating out my emotions through physical exercises is better than bottling everything up, which is my go-to method most of the time.
The treadmill is the final part of my cool down. It’s my chance to decrease my heart rate as well as ponder the up-and-coming games. We have our second and third game back-to-back this weekend in Michigan.
To fit all our games in, we have to play two days in a row against the same team. This weekend, we are versing Northern Michigan Stars.
The Stars have been one of the best teams since I started at Lakewood, so getting one over them early in the season would be a great confidence booster.
My legs burn, beginning to tremble. I stop my treadmill, waiting until it has finished moving before hopping off.
After grabbing my bag from my cubby, I pull up my mum’s number.
