“Shit, Mom. You really did wake up and choose violence,” I laugh, loving this side of her. “Is something bothering you? Do I need to beat someone’s ass?”
Mom walks down the front steps and moves in beside her car before looking back at me, a smirk stretching across her face. “Oh honey, it’s nothing your daddy can’t fix with a good beating.”
Oh my fucking God. Tell me she did not just say that.
Bile rises in my throat as I listen to the sheer laughter booming out of my mother. Fuck, she thinks she’s so funny. One more joke like that and I’ll be buying a lifetime of sessions with the best therapist in Bradford.
I shake my head, the images already intruding in my mind and making me feel sick. “Low blow, Mom,” I mutter, watching as she opens her car door and lowers herself into it. “Low fucking blow.”
“Listen,” she calls out her window, her engine mostly drowning her out. “The girl next door; Orlando mentioned she’ll be starting new at Bradford Private first thing in the morning. She’s a senior like you, so I expect you to be welcoming. Show her around, introduce her to some friends.”
“You’re joking right?”
“I am absolutely not joking, Tanner Morgan. Just because I’m not doing the neighborly thing, doesn’t mean that you won’t be.”
Mom fixes me with another hard stare, not relenting until I give in and dazzle her with a tight smile and a nod, but she’s fucking kidding herself if she thinks I’m about to be Killjoy’s new BFF.
Despite wanting to shove a hot poker through my ear just to singe the visual of my parents fucking out of my head, I wait and watch her leave. A part of me would like to say that it’s because I worry about her safety while backing out around the truck, but in all honesty, I just want to be here when she inevitably realizes that I was right and has to get out and ask for help.
What can I say? I’m such a selfless son. Always there for her when she needs me the most.
It takes Mom ten minutes just to back out, inching out of the driveway and refusing to meet my eye. She’s stubborn, just like me, but I don’t blame her. Were the situation reversed, I wouldn’t ask for help either. But on the other hand, I wouldn’t have had the issue in the first place. Those movers would have known to move out of my fucking way, and if they refused, they would have learned really fucking fast what it means to cross me.
I’d wave goodbye, but my arms ache after spending most of my morning working out. The twins fucking killed me. Their dad just completed their new home gym, so naturally they pestered me until I showed up on their doorstep, Riley in tow. Their father, who is also my uncle, is a bigshot movie producer and will flood Jax and Logan with expensive presents and shit just to ease the guilt of being away all the time, but they don’t seem to care. Not anymore. They’ve gotten used to it after so many years.
The twins, Logan and Jax Morgan, are my cousins, best friends, and fucking killers on the football field. All of us are. Logan, Jax, me, and Hudson Bellamy. We’ve been tight for years. Riley’s on the team too, but he’s too busy chasing pussy to care about being at the top of his game—not that it makes him any less of a fucking superstar on the field. Even without putting in the effort, he’s still one of our best players. Not above me though, and that’s not my ego talking. It’s just a fact.
School starts tomorrow, my senior fucking year. I’ve got everything going for me. Colleges are already interested, I’m at the top of the food chain, plus I have a brand-new hobby to fill my spare time. What more could I possibly need?
Letting the door fall closed behind me, I skip up the stairs two at a time while reaching over the back of my head and gripping the fabric of my black shirt. I shrug out of it and toss it aside as I enter my bedroom, my hands falling to the button on my pants. It’s been a long morning and after sweating it out in the twins’ new home gym, I could use a shower.
Stepping out of my jeans, I go to make my way into my bathroom when movement through my bedroom window catches my eye, and I find Killjoy directly across from me, reaching up to hang clothes in her closet, her shirt riding up and exposing the toned skin of her waist.
My cock flinches with hunger, fire burning through my veins.
“Down boy,” I mutter, gripping onto my hardening cock and giving him a firm squeeze. What is it about this chick that keeps setting me off? After she’d bailed out of the party last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the rage in her eyes. Something had pissed her off and she wasn’t above beating a bitch down to let it be known. Lucky me, I just happened to be the asshole standing in her way.