Page 99 of Boards & Betrayal

He looked down at his feet for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “Please, Ally. Just give me five minutes.”

Five minutes? After everything? My heart raced as memories of our turbulent past flashed through my mind—the good times overshadowed by betrayal and heartbreak. But there was something desperate in his plea that made me pause.

“Five minutes,” I said finally. “That’s all you get.”

"Let's go inside," Nick said, glancing around nervously. "Come on, Ally."

I shook my head, the weight of his request settling heavily on my shoulders. "No."

"Ally," he pleaded, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Please. I don't want to make a scene."

"Then don't," I shot back, my eyes narrowing.

He stepped closer and grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm and insistent. "I heard you're moving to California with him," he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "Is that true?"

His words caught me off guard. "What?"

Nick brought his face close to mine, his breath hot against my skin. "Answer me," he demanded. "Ally, you can't leave. I cannot live without you. I love you."

"Are you serious?" I retorted, anger bubbling up inside me. "You told your father my deepest, darkest secret that you've been blackmailing me with. That's not love, Nick." I struggled against him, trying to break free from his grasp. "Let me go."

"I can't," he insisted, his voice breaking. "Not until you tell me you won't go with him. Not until you tell me you don't love him."

"I can't," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

"What?"

"I do love your father," I said firmly. "And no matter what you do or say or think, that isn't going to change."

His grip tightened painfully on my shoulders, and I winced. "Nick," I said through gritted teeth, "you're hurting me."

"I'm hurting you?" Nick demanded, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and desperation. "You're hurting me! Tell me you love me!"

His hand lifted, the threat clear.

"Or you'll what?" I challenged, refusing to let fear take hold. "Hit me again?"

I knew what was coming. The look in his eyes was all too familiar, but I wouldn't cower.

"You're nothing but a spoiled child playing the victim, Nick," I spat out, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest.

"Stop it," he said, his voice trembling. "You sound just like him."

"If anyone would know, it's your father," I retorted.

His face contorted with rage. His hand came down, but before it could connect, someone grabbed his wrist.

It was Tom.

Tom stood there like a storm ready to unleash hell. His tall frame loomed over Nick's with an intimidating presence—commanding and unyielding. His leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders, dark and imposing, while his eyes burned with a ferocity that promised retribution.

"Let go of her," Tom growled, his voice low and menacing.

Nick's bravado crumbled in an instant. He looked like a child caught stealing cookies from the jar. His wrist trembled underTom's grip, and for a moment, he seemed to shrink before my eyes.

Tom didn't move an inch. His grip on Nick's wrist tightened until Nick winced in pain. "You heard me," Tom said through clenched teeth. "Let her go."

"No," Nick said. "I won't let you take her from me."

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