Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (21 page)

“Adriane left. She was never a part of us. She never gave a damn. She may have grown up in our neighborhood, attended the same parties, and our parents are friends, but make no mistake. She. Was. Never. One. Of. Us. Now, you aren’t.” Avery is shaking, and I watch Emberlee stare in shock. I have to admit that it hurts. I didn’t expect this from her. “Saylor loves us. She loves Julie. She fucking loves Deacon. Your friend. You should be happy, but instead you’re whacked. I don’t know what you were trying to do, but you destroyed lives tonight, Emberlee. I fucking HATE YOU!” Mason carries her through the front door, and as much as I want to follow suit, I need answers.

“Why, Lee Lee? If you’d taken a minute to know her, to love her, you know this would destroy her. If you aren’t happy, nobody else can be?”

“I won’t apologize. Y’all just move on, adapt to the changes. I had to stop it. I need it like it was. She’s the only one who understands me.” Fuck, she has Adriane so high on this proverbial pedestal, she doesn’t see the truth.

“You’re mistaken. Adriane doesn’t understand or love anyone but herself. Look around—where is she? She’s not holding your hand. She doesn’t have your back. You’ve become miserable just like her, and that’s something I won’t let in my life or Julie’s.” She gives not a single fuck. She stands there, daring to stare me down. I don’t know this girl in front of me. The one who laughed, loved, cried, and would never hurt me. She obliterated our entire group tonight, and I’m disgusted. The next two weeks should be fun.

They’re all waiting for me on the front lawn. “Tyson, here, is staying with us.” I look at Avery, cradling her hand, and my heart cracks a bit more. I walk to her and hug her. Kissing her head, I head home.

“See y’all in the morning.” My mind is reeling.

So many mistakes.

So many misunderstandings.

So many endings tonight.

I stand in my bedroom having flashbacks of every moment we were together in here. Kisses. Words of passion. Skin against skin. I pull her letter out and open it.

Deacon,

A few weeks ago, you asked me to fight my demons. To find my strength . . . and I have. It’s you.

Your arms make me feel safe. Your heartbeat calms me. Your voice excites me. Your words challenge me. Your journey inspires me.

It’s you.

I’ll miss you, but I want you to know I’ve gained perspective. I’m done pushing you away. I’m done fighting the inevitable.

I’m not done falling in love with you. Each day I fall a little more.

Merry Christmas.

Love,

Saylor

FUCK.

HER.

My fists crumple the useless paper.

My yells vibrate off the walls.

My anger engulfs me.

My heart closes.

I’ve had the longest two weeks of my life. I miss him, but I’ll have to get used to it.

I’m not ready to face him—any of them. I have no choice. Today is the day they return. I contemplated renting an apartment for the duration of the school year, but no matter what’s happened, they’re my friends. I couldn’t abandon them because my relationship with him didn’t end the way I expected. Funny, I was the one who kept an expiration date on it. I figured we’d end sometime—the best things do. The trip, his words, my feelings, they all penetrated, and I doubted what’d I always believed. Call it an epiphany, or maybe I started listening to my heart and his words . . . I wasn’t sure we were going to end.

My mom and Jack went home two days ago, and I’ve done nothing but run scenarios in my head. How I’m going to react when I see Adriane and Deacon together—I’ll plaster a smile on my face and pretend I’m happy for them. In truth, I would be happy for them, but I’d be miserable. I don’t have to wonder what it’s like to be part of his world, his life—I was part of it.

When we all go to dinner, I’ll make sure to place myself in the booth where they won’t be in my direct line of sight. The day I see Julie walk, and she takes her first steps into her mom’s arms—yeah, I haven’t figured that one out yet, but I think I’m prepared for all others.

I hear car doors slam, voices floating across the yards, and I step to the window. No amount of practice could prepare me for how I feel when I see him—strong arms carrying his daughter and a suitcase. His hair looks a little darker and in need of a trim, his skin needs some color, I can’t see his expression from this distance. Stop, Saylor, it’s not your place.

I watch as they unload their cars, Mason grabbing Avery’s stuff and putting it inside the door. I’m glad I’m hidden behind the alcove in the kitchen and I’d turned the lights off. Emberlee’s car pulls in, and I suck in a breath. Her meanness still stings, and I’ve racked my brain wondering what I did to deserve it. I can’t come up with any reason for her hatred. I watch her get out of the car and struggle to get her suitcase . . . none of them offer their help, none of them give her a second look, none of them speak to her.

I agree her deliverance of Adriane wasn’t stellar, but she shouldn’t be shunned for reuniting a family. I force my eyes to avoid his driveway since that first glance. I don’t want to watch her car pull in. I don’t want to see her climb the steps to her home. The home she’ll share with him. I don’t want to see reality, and I want to live in denial for a few more days, or years, or forever. I hurry to my room as the front door opens, and Avery comes inside. Closing the door as quietly as possible, I flip the lock and cross to my bed. Curling into myself and hugging my pillow, my hands brush his shirt. The one I took the first time I spent the night with him. He’d discarded it sometime prior to me barging in and disrupting his peaceful night, and it smelled like him. Maybe because I keep spraying his cologne on it. That was an impulse buy made during a shopping trip this past week with my mom. Her look of pity didn’t go unnoticed, but it went unanswered. I’d evaluated every situation with her; I broke down the what-ifs, the plans of action until I was blue in the face. I finally told her to stop; I couldn’t take another conversation where my decision was the same—me without him.

Jack was a funny guy. After the third trip to the mall, I reassured him he didn’t need to buy my affection . . . I was past the point of needing a pony to soothe my tantrums. We spent time talking to one another. I let my guard down and he let me wade into this relationship at my pace.

“What do you want to do with your degree?” He was genuine in his interest.

“I think I want to freelance. I don’t want to be tied to corporate America, but I want success. I’d thought at one point securing a big account and making a name for myself is what I wanted, but the more I delve into courses, I like the idea of working for Mom & Pop stores, restoring the businesses that built America. I want to revamp them, make them successful, and I can do it cheaper starting my own company without a lot of overhead. They can’t afford big advertising agencies, but if I start with just a few I can build a name for myself and help them succeed.” There’s something magical that happens when I walk into a small bookstore or a dime store shop . . . it feels like home. I don’t get lost and overwhelmed like I do with the chain stores. I know each serves its purpose, but the smaller stores are losing their footing, getting lost in the shuffle.

His eyes gleam, and he calls my mom into the room. “Nina, have you heard her ideas for her future? She’s brilliant.” Tears sting my eyes. Pride. He’s proud of me, and I realize how much I’ve ached for this. Acceptance. Love. My mom has always been my rock, but she’s my mom—it’s kind of expected. I never allowed myself to believe I could be worthy of it because I missed it from my dad. I thought he chose to leave. Somehow I’d done something to make him stop loving me. “You know we have the guest house that is vacant? For graduation, let me transform it to an office for you.”

I smile. “If I decide to do this, you have a deal.” His arms surprise me when I feel them engulf me. I return his hug, and I feel the weight I’ve carried ease. It’ll take time, but I know I’ve gained something I’ve longed for. A dad. He isn’t my biological dad, but one who loves me no differently than if I were his flesh and blood.

A soft knock on my door causes me to hold my breath. If I’m silent, maybe whoever it is will leave. “Shortstop, we’re home.” Mace . . . someone who is annoying as hell has come to mean the world to me. I scramble off my bed and unlock the door. At that moment, Emberlee comes down the hall.

“Mason, my suitcase is stuck in my car.” I can’t look at her. The sound of her voice makes me want to commit a homicide.

“That sucks—for you.” He doesn’t turn to look at her.

“Are you serious? How long are you going to be a dick?”

“Seeing as how you’ve been a bitch your whole life, I have some catching up to do.” I’m standing there holding my breath watching their argument escalate.

“Fuck you, Mason. Hate me all you want, but you know I did what was needed.”

He whips his body to face her, and I tug his shirt to get his attention. I pull him into my room and shut the door, but her last parting shot hits its mark. “Moving on so quick, Saylor? Way to make my point, oh and enjoy my sloppy seconds.” I clap my hand over Mason’s mouth so he can’t spur her. Ignoring her is the way to make her stop.

“What the hell?” He growls as I move my hand.

“Don’t let her goad you.” He rolls his eyes, and I giggle.

“She’s a bitch.”

“Maybe, but she’s right.” His mouth slants downward as his stare turns blank. I hate taking the wind from his sails, but I’ve got to keep it honest.

“Missed you. What’d you do?”

“Hung with the parents. Shopped. Got to know my stepdad.”

“Why do I feel like you’re holding something back? You seem okay.” His eyes narrow, studying me.

“I’m far from okay, but I learned a lot about my past, my present, and my future these last weeks. You can say I’m enlightened.”

“Good. You can apologize and work things out with Deacon.”

I shake my head. “I need ground rules, and I’m trusting you to pass the message along. I was tempted to rent an apartment for the rest of the school year. I can’t be pushed, suggested, begged to work things out. I did what I did for them . . . it wasn’t easy, and I still hurt. Y’all need to pretend like we are two separate entities. I’m not ready to be in a group setting, but I won’t make y’all choose. It’d kill me, but I’d remove myself before I let friendships be ruined. Y’all were his first.”

“We love you, too.”

“I know.” I smile at him. “And I’m thankful, but I mean it, Mason. I’m barely hanging in there, and I need y’all to respect my wishes.”

“Okay.” He isn’t happy, but he’s listening to me.

“And work things out with Emberlee.”

“Fuck that. Nope. That’s where I draw the line, and I need you to hear me.” I throw up my hands in surrender. I don’t agree, just as he doesn’t with me…but mutual respect and all that jazz.

“How was Colorado?”

“Eh. Tense. Boring.”

I chuckle. “I doubt that. Things are never boring with you there. Any bimbos?”

He smiles and wags his brow. I should have known . . . Mason wouldn’t go longer than a few days without a hole to stick his dick in. I’m just glad it’s ceased being Emberlee; he’s too good for her.

“Hey, chicka.” Avery rounds my doorway. “I have those pictures you requested.” I hold my hand up and look at Mason, pleading with him to stop this. I push my hand into my stomach, trying to ease the sharp pain. I can’t see him. Not in person, not in pictures, especially those pictures. I wonder if he liked it. I wonder if Adriane is upset. I wonder if he’ll hang it up. I wonder why the fuck she gave it to him with the way things happened.