Page 7 of Cruel Hate

Fucking Shane. He was a disaster lately. When Tracey dumped him—over text—it had badly shaken his confidence. For a while, our room had had a revolving door for punt bunnies on it. Then the frequency tapered off. That was when I suspected he’d hooked up with Tracey again. Serious relationship or not, she wasn’t good for him anymore, if she ever had been.

I would have bet he ran his mouth to Tracey. I knew my brother. He pretended things were over between them, but I had a bad feeling they weren’t. Or not all the way, even though he’d seen the proof of what a leech she was.

I couldn’t control the situation, and that alone made me crazy. Trying to figure Aspen out? I was at a complete loss.

Thank God for football. Practice had been the only good thing about the day, especially since I’d been cleared to play this weekend. I should have been riding a high from that, but the stuff with Aspen, my brother, and the homework I needed to do were weighing me down. And while I could play this weekend, I didn’t know how long that would last. My grades had tanked on my last few assignments because Shane, who’d always helped me in high school, had been nowhere to be found.

The door to our room opened, and my head snapped up as he entered, a small duffel in hand. He nodded then unzipped the bag and tossed some clothes onto his bed and some into the hamper.

“Hey.”

He kept moving around the room, taking more clothes from the dresser then stuffing them into the bag, not acknowledging me at all.

“Are you going to be around later? I could use some help with studying.”

He closed the bag so aggressively that the zipper made an angry zing. He threw the strap over his shoulder then went to the door, opening it but not stepping through as he turned to me. A muscle pulsed in his jaw, and he pressed his lips into a line. “Oh, you want my help. That’s rich, considering.”

He was mad. An uneasy feeling settled in my gut about why—we both knew he was talking about Tracey.

It didn’t matter, though. I was going to make him angrier. “Where’ve you been? And why are you running your mouth to Tracey about my business?” I sounded like Aspen.

He stepped back into the room and slammed the door. We met in the middle, the clenched fists at his sides mirroring my own. Both of us itched to fight. I knew why I wanted to—the day had sucked.But what is his problem? Other than that toxic bitch who’s probably in his head?

“You shut up about Tracey.”

I stared into his blue eyes, noting how he clenched his fists so hard that his forearms bulged. “Ah, I see what’s going on here. You’ve been avoiding me because you’re back with her? What’s the matter? Forget how she treated you during your injury, back when she thought you wouldn’t have a career in the NFL? That didn’t say enough about what type of disloyal bitch she is?” I chortled. “Or have you swept all that under the rug? Past is past. Because you’re back and a contender and she thinks you’re worth her while again?”

It was mean, and I kind of hated myself for saying it. I knew things about him that no one else did. And Tracey? She’d come along right when he’d needed her. At first, I’d thought she was good for him. But that lasted less than a hot minute before I sensed her true intentions. Shane never did believe me when I told him she was a leech. Or maybe he just didn’t want to hear it because the positives in his mind outweighed her jealousy and mean-girl tendencies. She was the queen of using others to get what she wanted.

He didn’t say a word for several seconds but kept clenching his jaw. “Let me make this clear for you. Tracey is none of your business.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? If she’s back in your life, of course it’s my business.”

Shane leaned in, an inch from my face. “Stay out of it. You’ve done enough.”

And there was my answer. He probably knew what I’d said to Tracey. Or part of it.

The moment I’d intercepted Tracey played vividly in my mind because it had resulted in her withdrawing her claws from my brother.

“Look, he got some horrible news from the doc.”

“Is he out the season?” Red infused her cheeks, and her hands curled into fists as she stepped closer. “This is all your fault.”

“How’s that? I’m not the one who hit him.” Where did she get her logic?

“You threw him the ball when that tree trunk of a man was right there. You wanted him to get hurt so you could be the star, have all the attention from the coach, and get picked for an NFL team over him.” She crossed her arms over her fake-looking tits. “I told him you would pull something like this.”

She was off her rocker. When she took another step forward, I held out my hand, palm up. I couldn’t let her inside, and no way was I going to address her brand of crazy. It would only get worse if I fed into it. I would have been the first to admit that winding her up could be fun as hell, but not when I wanted her to leave quickly. “The doc said Shane’s pro career was over before it started. The damage to his shoulder is too extensive to be repaired.”

“Ah.” She took a half step back, her mouth hanging open. Seconds ticked by. “I thought he had PT. Are they sure?”

“PT for days, but it won’t change things. And he’s in a shit mood, but—”

A calculating gleam flashed in her baby blues, giving a glimpse into her dark soul before she whirled around, not even waiting for me to finish. A second later, she was in her car, pulling out of the driveway and onto the road. Once her car was out of sight, I let loose the laughter I’d been holding in.

I jerked back to the present and the sick feeling that Shane knew what I’d done. And knowing Tracey, she would drop that bomb when it benefited her the most. The worst part was that she obviously had her claws in him again. All the fight left me, and I hurt for my brother. “You deserve better.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” He jerked forward but stopped before making contact.

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