Page 41 of Cruel Hate

I felt sick and said nothing.

“Have you told Phoenix about the test yet?”

“No. He’s been busy with football and school. We haven’t had time to talk, and I didn’t want to do it over the phone.” Or at all. Mom didn’t know the truth about what Phoenix and I were to each other. Fake dating was something we upheld to family and around school. But anyone near us had to have heard our fights. They were epic.

“Well, you need to make the time for that, Aspen. It’s important.”

“I know.” Her voice was heavy with disapproval, and I didn’t know why she couldn’t cut me a break. She’d gone to a doctor's appointment with me and had been supportive, but then there were those times when her true feelings came through loud and clear. She hadn’t said it yet, but I got the impression that she had zero interest in being a grandmother. “Can you talk to Dad and see if there’s any history on his side?”

“You should be the one doing that, but,” a loud sigh sounded through the speaker, “I’ll ask him.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ve got to get some homework done. I’ll talk to you soon.”

We hung up, and my anxiety amped back up as I scrolled through my contacts. A fat tear rolled down my cheek as I paused on Phoenix’s name.

I had to tell him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

PHOENIX

In a haze, I managed to make it to Tuesday, which was a miracle in itself. My grandad’s dictate about the fight and the unspoken threat to her dad and to the health insurance Aspen needed had sucker punched me more than once and left me reeling.

My lifeline through it all was football, the one thing he hadn’t threatened. He could have. I was only too aware of that because he knew about the underground fights and my participation in them. It was career-ending knowledge, and the man I’d thought I could trust had proven me wrong.

If I was to go through with the fight, I swore it would be the last one. My next goal would be to do everything in my power to get drafted early. This year was out because I had missed a few games, but maybe next year could work. I couldn’t leave anything to fate again—not Aspen and the baby, not my career, or even my brother or Mom’s well-being. If he was capable of doing that to me, I shuddered to think what he would do—or had done—to them.

Tired of being alone in my room, I leaned against the kitchen counter in the football house. Damon and Cole walked in, and some other guys left for dinner at the cafeteria.

“How’s it going?” Cole opened the fridge and grabbed an apple.

He'd been around less between football, classes, and Riley’s diving meets. Damon had been busy, too, off doing his own thing with Sky. I loved college, but it was a big change.

“Good. You going to be around after practice tomorrow? I wanted to go over tape.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Cole hitched his bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ve got to get a paper written. Will you guys be around later?”

“I’m sleeping at Sky’s. Her roommate isn’t there tonight.” Damon bowed out. “I’ll see you both later. I just needed to grab a few things. But tomorrow is good. Count me in.”

My phone rang as they both exited the kitchen. Aspen’s photo lit up the screen, and I answered, my gut instantly tightening. She rarely reached out, and whenever she did, it made me worry that something was wrong with the baby.

“Phoenix?” Her voice was high-pitched and tight.

“Hey, everything okay?” I straightened from the counter, ready to book out of there if she needed me.

“I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at the diner?”

“When?”

“Now.”

I said I would and left in a rush. There hadn’t been one time we’d met at the diner without all hell breaking loose, and I expected nothing less this time. It was obvious by her tone of voice that something was wrong.

I drove instead of walked, so it didn’t take long. When I arrived, Aspen was in a booth with a glass of water. I slid in on the opposite side as people moved around us. The place was packed, per usual.

“Okay, I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Big blue eyes locked onto mine, and a chill skated down my spine. She looked haunted, forlorn. I was used to her either being mad or living in her free-spirit surfer vibe. This, I didn’t like. But I waited until she was ready.

---