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That was assuming this didn’t land on Principal Finnigan’s desk first thing Monday morning.

Fuck.

I’d really fucked up. But I’d been caught between a rock and a hard place.

“Yeah, Cap?” Grady asked.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Come on, we should probably get out of here before the cops show up.” Cam barely met my eyes, disappointment radiating off him.

But screw him.

He didn’t know the whole story yet, no one did.

I’d tell them eventually, but first I needed a shit ton of Advil and a bottle of Jack.

I managed to crawl into the back of Asher’s Jeep, Mya climbing in behind me while Cam and Hailee sat up front. There was no sign of Felicity, but I was almost certain I’d seen her there, standing with the girls.

Maybe I dreamed it up.

A mirage in the middle of one of the worst fucking beatings of my life.

A beautiful angel in the middle of my own personal hell.

“Guess the rumors are true,” Mya said, studying me intently.

“Yeah, and what do they say?” It hurt to fucking breathe let alone talk, but there was something about the way she looked at me that had me intrigued.

“You’re not just a pretty face.” Her lip curved. “Before you pass out, tell me one thing. Was it worth it?” She kept her voice low, as if we were sharing some big secret.

“So worth it.” I sank back against the leather, swallowing a groan and closing my eyes. “So fucking worth it.”

Her hearty laughter was the last thing I heard.

“What the fuck were you thinking, bro?” The veins in Asher’s neck throbbed with frustration. “We’re this close to State and you go and screw it all up and for what? To say you have bigger balls than Thatcher? It makes no sense, none.”

“Ash, leave it,” Cam said coolly, his eyes hard on me.

“Leave it? Are you fucking kidding me? He’s out. When Coach gets wind of this, and he will, he’ll have no choice but to pull your,” he jabbed his finger at me, “ass from the team. All that hard work for nothing. I just don’t get it. You told us all to leave it, so then why the fuck did you—”

“ASH!” Cam roared, and his eyes grew to saucers.

“What?”

“I said, leave it.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m out. I need a beer or something.” He stormed from the room, the door slamming behind him.

“That went well,” I smirked, the pain meds and whisky slowly working their way through my system.

“Jase, come on, cut him some slack. He’s only worried. We all are.”

“Yeah, yeah, save me the Mother Teresa routine. I knew what I was doing when I went down there.”

“So why’d you do it?”

“Like you don’t already know.”


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