Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I realize the annoying trill isn’t an alarm when I fail to find my phone. Someone is ringing the old landline phone, and they better have a good excuse for waking me.
The groan of a dying man rolls up my chest when my eyes flick down to the caller ID on the base of the cordless phone and the number flashing up is recognizable.
Even aware he only calls for an emergency, my greeting is snappy. “What?”
“He’s been down there for days, Cash. You need to come home.”
“I don’t have time. I have a game, and…” my voice trails off when I run out of excuses.
That’s all I have to look forward to.
A game.
My life sucks.
“Can’t you sort it out?”
Trenton pffts me. “I lucked out on the smarts, remember? They all went to you.” Before I can assure him that’s a good thing, he adds, “Come sort him out, or I’ll bring him to you.”
That secures my attention in under a nanosecond. “You can’t do that, Trenton. The last time you did that, he walked onto the court naked.”
My father has manic episodes. Most of the time, they’re handled at home, but a handful of times, they’ve been conducted in public.
The rumors about my big cock didn’t start because I was a manwhore who flashed his dick around campus. It was compliments to my dad believing a bee flew under his sweater.
He’s allergic, so he stripped naked before anyone could assure him that bees can’t fly at night.
The bug that flew at him in the bleachers was a harmless moth.
I stop recalling the wolf whistles and cat calls that saved my reputation from being sunk my first year at South Harmon Institute when Trenton says, “I can’t keep doing this, Cash. I need fucking help. He needs to go into a home.”
“No. Don’t you remember what they did to him? They turned his brain to mush.” While remembering the three years my father spent at a ‘hospital’ that was meant to help him but broke him more, I scoot off my bed and toss on a pair of sweatpants. “The plan is in-house help. We agreed to an in-house nurse.”
“When you graduate. That’s still months away.”
I shake my head in denial. It is easier than facing the truth. “Scouts are coming this month. Deals should roll in not long after that. It could be sooner.” I sound desperate. Rightfully so. Before his accident, all our plans were on Trenton’s shoulders. I am the youngest, so I only had to watch my father’s decline. I wasn’t an integral part of it.
When Trenton remains quiet, I try to persuade him over the line. “Come on, Trenton. It’s a couple of months.” I almost snag him, but he isn’t fully secured in my trap until I say, “And I’ll come deal with him. I’ll come today.”
“Today?” he confirms, his voice relieved.
Even though he can’t see me, I nod before galloping down the stairs separating my loft bedroom from the main rooms of the house.
The further I encroach, the more my frat house represents a house of death. Bodies are strewn across the floor, couches, and kitchen counters. Even some random is sleeping on a pool float in the pool.
“Today?” Trenton checks again, put off by the stern swallow of my Adam’s apple.
“Yeah… if I can find a ride.”
His rebuttal is the quickest one so far. “No ifs, Cash. Today, or I’m calling off our deal.”
He hangs up before I can plead for a few more hours.
I consider busing it to the burbs, but there’s no way I’ll make it there and back in time for my game. My next option isn’t any better. Kamil’s bed appears untouched like he’s either not gone to bed yet or he didn’t sleep in his room.
I’ve got no one left to count on.
Except her.
But after last night, she isn’t an option anymore, is she?
My deliberation is cut short when it is interrupted by the last person I expected to see today. “Where do you need to be, Cash?” McKayla slowly paces down the stairs like it isn’t odd that she’s waking up at a frat house before moving to stand in front of me. Her eyes are puffy, red, and show that she’s barely slept, but she will still turn heads wherever she goes. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, and you won’t owe me for it.” Her smile is the fakest I’ve seen. “Then we’re even. You taught me how to react stupidly to jealousy, so now I need to return the favor.”
It is the fight of my life not to wipe away her tears when a big salty one plops onto her cheek, but I give it my best shot. I’m pissed and hurt, but more than anything, I’m annoyed she let someone like Vivienne deceive her like that.