Page 13 of All That Glitters
He didn’t say anything and neither did I, but he stood back for me to step inside. This time, I didn’t even pause to think about putting one foot in front of the other, I simply did it.
My body warred with my brain.
Fight or flight.
Face to face with the man who took the second half of last season and a second championship from me. The man who took my confidence, my steadiness, my control. The man who took my peace and certainty of my place in this world.
I wanted him to pay. I wanted him to pay for every painful breath, for every painful step, for every painful nightmare where the accident happens over and over and over again like highlight reels played on sports channels and social media.
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to make him bleed. I wanted to punch him in his perfect face.
I wanted him to have scars just like me. I wanted… I… Wanted…
Breathe asshole…
I wanted to get out of there. It was a mistake. My father might think otherwise but seeing Hale? Now? I wasn’t ready. I was still too angry, too full of rage, too full of…something that even I knew through the cloud of red dust floating in my vision was dangerous.
I followed him into the nearest room off the foyer. It was full of light, calming shades of sand and ocean blues. As many times as I’d been in the Troye’s home away from home, this was my favorite room. It didn’t have the views of the water like the back of the house. It had nothing to distract from its comfortable yet minimal furnishings and soothing color scheme.
I was the complete opposite of calm, of soothed.
“Ashton.”
“Don’t.” My voice didn’t even sound the same to me. Hale gave nothing away. “You don’t get to say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like we’re still friends.”
“Ash, I…”
“No.” I shook my head. I needed the red to dissipate. I needed to see straight and clear. I needed to look into his eyes. I needed to see that what he said, what he told me about that day was the truth. I needed to see and hear for myself that he wrecked me on purpose, that he took me out on purpose, that he… That he… “Fuck you.”
Those were the only two words that came out and I saw the edges of his mouth tighten, his body stiffen, his eyes narrow.
“Back at you.”
“You don’t have the right.”
“My house. My right. If you’d like to actually talk we can do that, but if all you want to do is hurl insults, you can leave.”
“I see you’ve grown a pair.”
“I always had the pair, just never had to use them with you.”
Wow. That didn’t sound the way he meant it and I had to bite back a smile. I wasn’t ready to smile with Hale Troye. I wasn’t ready to talk to him, be nice to him, do anything more than hurl insults. I wanted to beat him until he saw the same stars I’d seen when I first opened my eyes after the crash, before they got me out of the car, before I passed out again.
And I hated that I felt that way. He’d been my best friend. Him, his twin Helen, and Brax. We’d grown up inseparable. There was a healthy respect between us when we were on the track and deep friendships when were off it.
At least, there had been until it all went up in flames. Fuck.
“How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
I shook my head. “Maybe I should ask why you did it. Then again, maybe I don’t have to. It didn’t quite work out as you planned, did it?”
The glint in Hale’s eyes hardened. “You think I did it on purpose?”
