Page 16 of Endgame

“Stay out of it, D,” Rourke snarled, still moving through the house with me tossed over his shoulder.

I felt the cool sting of the night air moments before I was thrown from Rourke’s arms and engulfed in a huge swell of water. Panic stricken, I pushed towards the surface.

“You bastard!” I spluttered when I broke the surface. “You could have drowned me!”

He was standing at the edge of the swimming pool in the back yard with his hands on his hips, glaring down at me with a murderous expression. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” Rourke shot back. “Mores the fucking pity. You think that’s funny? Stealing my condoms? Fucking with my stuff?”

“Seeing as you’re all worked up, then I’d say yes!” I snarled as I swam over to where he was standing. From where I was standing, I could see no other way around this. If I didn’t push back, Rourke Owens would bury me, and I refused to go down like that. Springing up out of the water, I knotted my fist in his shirt and dragged him roughly into the water. “No sex for you tonight, Asshole.”

“Damn, Rourke!” the same guy as earlier laughed. He was huge, bigger than Rourke, and he was standing at the edge of the pool beside two stunningly beautiful blonde girls, and grinning like an idiot at the pair of us. “Sissy’s got spunk.”

“She’snotmy sister,” Rourke snarled, treading the water, cold blue eyes locked on my eyes. “Ya hear that? You arenotmy fucking family.”

Here I was; being punished for my mother’s decisionsagain. Fuck this. “I don’t want to be your family,” I practically screamed, splashing him. “I can’t stand the sight of you!”

“Then leave!” he roared in my face. “Take your whore of a mom and get the fuck out of my town…”

Rourke didn’t finish his sentence; I don’t suppose he could when my fist was crunched into the side of his jaw. “Don’t,” I warned, breathing harshly as I lunged at the big bastard, “call my mom a whore again.”

He shook off my punch like I was a mildly annoying bumble bee buzzing around his face. “You’re a fucking lunatic,” he snarled, getting in my face.

“Yeah,” I shot back, pushing against his chest. “I’d have to be to move into a house with a deranged psychopath like you.”

“You think I’m a psychopath?”

“Oh, Iknowyou’re a psychopath.”

My reaction to Rourke’s cruel words only caused the other guy to laugh harder. “This is priceless,” he chuckled, thoroughly enjoying himself at my expense. “Ash, Britt; you need to film this shit. The guys on the team are gonna piss themselves when they watch Rourke getting schooled by her.”

“Don’t fucking dare, Ashley,” Rourke spat. “Or you, Brittany.” He turned his attention to me once more and hissed, “Stay out of my room, Six. You don’t wanna make an enemy out of me.”

“Really?” Hauling myself out of the water, I glared down at him. “I thought we already were.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the other guy said with a chuckle as he sauntered towards me. “I’m Daryl King.” He held his hand out to me. “And I apologize for my friend’s manhandling.”

Good looking guy,I thought to myself seconds before I pushed his ass in the pool to join hisfriend. “The next time you see someone doing something you know is wrong, do something to stop it instead of apologizing after it’s done,” I hissed before stalking into the house.

Rourke

BLOOD WAS DRIPPING from my knuckles; the punching bag in my best friend’s garage the victim of my latest burst of aggression.

God fucking dammit.

He really did it.

Dad really brought another woman and her brat into our goddamn home.

“You got it out of your system yet?” Daryl asked, wiping the corner of his mouth, as he observed me from a safe distance. He was my best friend, had been since pre-k, and at 6’3” was as tall as me in height, but he knew better than anyone not to try and stop me when I was in this kind of mood. A homicidal mood.

“Not even close,” I growled, continuing to pound my bare fists into the bag.

With intelligent green eyes, Daryl studied me with a concerned frowned etched on his face. “Mind taking care of those hands, buddy?” he tossed out, folding his arms across his chest. “Kinda need you in one piece this season.”

Hewouldsay that. Daryl King – or King Daryl, as he was known by his teammates – was our team’s first string quarterback and Ocean Bay Academy’s answer toTom Brady.We’d been playing together since Daryl was old enough to throw a football and I was fast enough to go long and catch it, and he needed me. I was the number one ranked high school wide receiver in the state and a fucking bullet on the field. But the mood I was in right now, I didn’t give two shits if I fucked my wrists or not. All I could think about was history repeating itself a-fucking-gain.

I guess you could say I’d been in denial since the wedding, hoping and praying this was some sick joke. But when my newMommyand her spawn showed up on our doorstep yesterday, reality had hit me like a wrecking ball.

“Dude,” Daryl hissed. “I need a wide receiver out there with hands that can actually catch my damn passes.”

---