Page 56 of Bitter Truths

“It’s better than nothing if the fucker hadn’t bitched out, I’d be—”

“You’d be what?” I ask, curious when he breaks off and turns his face away.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mutters.

“No, tell me.”

“It’s nothing. Jason just didn’t appreciate my fist to his head,” he says, waving his arm through the air.

“What did he do?” Shit. Pulling to my feet, I face off against Griff, both exhilarated at the notion he defended me and painfully confused.

“Nothing,” he says but sighs when I give him an impatient look. “He got a lawyer of his own.”

“And?” I breathe, my stomach lurching.

His mouth curves up in a smile, but his eyes are ever so solemn. “And if I don’t stay away, he’ll take legal action. I’ll be kicked off the team.”

Dizziness assails me, and I grab my head with a groan. “Fuck, Griff.”

This is his dream, and that fucker could rip it away from him. Shit.

“It’s fine. It’s my own fucking fault anyway,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, you need to stay away from him,” I whisper.

“No! No!” He grabs my cheeks and leans into me, his eyes lit from within. “I fucking did this, and if it means dropping the team, then fine.”

“What? No!” I poke him in the chest. “No way is that fucker going to play when you’re not.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says dully, grabbing my hand.

“How can you say that? This is your dream.”

“Because nothing fucking matters,” he bellows. “I can’t breathe, Halsey, I can’t fucking stand to look at myself. I can’t . . .”

Breaking off, he turns away once more, and I eye him quietly, the hateful burn in my chest going soft under his misery. Maybe I shouldn’t be so angry with him. Even if Griffin challenged the jerk, Jason and all his gross friends still made a choice.

I don’t know, and that’s what eats me up inside.

“What did you say to him that night?” I ask because it’s time I heard the entire story.

His eyes flash before he sucks in a breath and averts his gaze. “He told me he was going to pop your cherry.”

His nostrils flare, and he drops his head. “I told him good luck because I fucked you when we were fifteen.”

“What? Why?” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but my heart still clenches at the admission. Still, I can’t turn away because this is the last of the lies, I hope.

“Hals,” he says in a low rumble. “Jason is a dick, and I wanted him to think he was fucking my sloppy seconds.”

“Just great,” I mutter.

“Hals, I know it was a mistake, but it wasn’t about you. It wasn’t,” he insists, his mouth curling in a grimace.

“How can you say that? He was talking about me.” I say, slamming my palm against my chest.

“Because,” he says softly, grabbing my wrist. “I didn’t say it to get back at you. I said it because I was jealous.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” I say, bewildered.

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