Page 68 of The Illicit Play
There’s a silent pause while he absorbs that, and then I hear his soft mutter. “What the fuck is wrong with her? She can’t keep blackmailing you like this.”
“Yeah, well, she is.” I spit out the words, bitter resentment dripping off every syllable. “Cleo knows how to play the innocent victim to perfection. The dean believed her when she said she had no idea how reckless I’d been. She convinced him that if she’d known, she would have tried to stop me. But she took the fucking photos! And I… I couldn’t even argue my side.”
“Why not?”
I shrug, my voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “I’ve thought about that a lot. And the only conclusion that makes any sense to me is…” I glance at him, then look back to the safety of the valley. “Maybe it was the out I didn’t know I wanted. So I took all the blame. I owned that shit and withdrew so I didn’t have to face it all.” I sniff, wiping my nose with my sleeve.
“I take it Wily doesn’t knowanyof this.”
I shake my head.
“What about your parents?”
“They can’t know.” I turn to him, panic rounding overme. “Please, they can never see those photos. No one can. No one!”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Grady’s arm glides across my shoulder, running up to the back of my neck. He gives it a gentle squeeze.
I swallow, shaking my head. He’s being way too nice to me. “I thought I’d feel free, you know? The day I moved out? I hadn’t spoken to Cleo since she dumped me in it, and I couldn’t even look at her as I carried my stuff out of the room. I ended up paying for a storage unit in Chicago. That’s where my stuff is. And then I moved into a hotel. I know this makes me sound like a total bitch, but when I got the call that Wily was injured, I jumped all over that shit. I was relieved. It was the perfect excuse to get out of Chicago.” Tears suddenly flood my eyes. “I don’t want my brother to be hurt, I swear. But the timing couldn’t have been better for me.” My voice pitches, and I can’t stop the flow of tears this time. “But I feel like such a horrible person for thinking that!”
“It’s understandable. You were desperate. Wily will get it, you know? He’s a good-hearted guy. He?—”
“No!” I snatch Grady’s wrist, squeezing it way too hard as I urgently tell him, “He can’t know. No one can know! I shouldn’t have even told you!” Panic splits me in half as I desperately beg him to keep his mouth shut. “Grady, you can’t! You can’t tell anyone this stuff.”
“It’s okay. Calm down.”
“I won’t calm down!” I bite back. “You have to promise me you won’t say anything. To anyone! Grady, you can’t. You can’t tell.”
“Blake.” He touches my cheek, then ends up cupping both of them, gently forcing me to look at him. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I blubber. “This whole thing is total shit.”
“I know.” He nods. “I know.”
The calm, compassionate look in his eyes stills me.
Why isn’t he mad? Why isn’t he judging me?
“Just take a breath, okay?” He sucks in some air, showing me what to do. “Come on. Breathe.”
I follow his next breath, copying his movement until the thundering in my heart has eased to something manageable.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” he assures me. “This is your story, and it’s safe with me.”
I close my eyes, releasing a heavy sigh.
His thumb rubs across my cheek in slow, gentle swipes, and I finally find the courage to open my eyes again and look at him.
“I won’t tell,” he promises again, then ruins it all by saying, “But I think you should.”
Ripping my face out of his hold, I angle my body away from him and glare down at the valley.
“Blake—”
“No.” I shake my head, feeling like a coward. “I can’t.”
“But—”
“You don’t know what it’s like being part of my family. Failure isn’t an option, okay? Wily has to be perfect on the field, and I have to be perfect in the classroom. We know our roles, and we play them. We don’t fuck up!” Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and cradle my head in my hands.
