Page 123 of Dirty Roulette
“How old were you?”
She criss-crosses her legs, thumping them back and forth on the mattress. “Fourteen I think.”
“Really? You were that young?” If a guy looked in my direction at fourteen, the whites in their eyes turned black. I swear they were all demons, and I hissed at them like a feral cat.
“Well...” She sighs and her lashes flutter, looking sideways. “I was kinda exposed to it rather early. I didn’t try again until I was sixteen. Classic Prom date fun.”
“That’s a cliché.”
“The girls said something else...” She twiddles her thumbs. The back of my mind tells me my fate is headed to a bad collision.
“Okay, spill.”
“Can I ask you something first?” Naomi asks.
“Shoot.”
“Are we friends?” There was a softness in her voice, and I could see the genuineness in them.
“After what you did for me in getting those flash drives? Yeah.”
“Okay, please don’t be mad at me.” She curls her fingers up to her lips, and a pain lodges in her eyes as they shake. “The girls were saying Brody plans on forcing Ryder to break it off with you. It’s football or you. I don’t think Ryder even knows about this.”
A warhead impales me in the stomach. “He’s gonna force Ryder to dump me?” My heart plops out of my chest like a soggy pop tart. I’m thick tar inside, burning and melting. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t know, this is just what I was hearing in the locker room, and since Brody is about to start playing again, he wants Ryder gone.” I can feel the walls around me closing in, but I’m not about to sit here and sob. Brody ripped me from Charlie, and now he plans on taking Ryder too.
“Then I’m not holding back tonight. I’m gonna run him into the fucking ground. He wants me to act like trailer trash then fine let's play Roulette, because the next chamber of the barrel is going to be a bullet to his head!” I grab the duffle bag and throw it over my shoulder.
Chapter forty-seven
Ryder
Teammates shit talk with one another in the locker room. Duffle bags thump as they are dropped on the benches of the floor. Echos and laughter bounce off the walls. I slump to the cold metal bench, sweat skating down my back as I tie my cleats.
“Oh shit! Not again!”
Lockers slam shut, and laughter gets more ridiculous. “Who you mad at this time, Emo Girl?”
“Babycakes, I loved your sex video.”
Sex video? My brows furrow from the words and I stand up.
“Wanna ride on my lap?!” Another guy calls out. I already know who they’re talking to. Something happened as I can hear the sneakers stomping on the tile.
“Fucking touch me again! I dare you!” Payton’s voice pounds into my eardrums. The slam of metal and cursing are about to make my earsbleed.
I bump my shoulder into teammates and snake through the row of lockers. Payton shoves her hands into Farva and swings a palm, slapping him straight across the cheeks. Farva laughs as she punches and pushes him in the chest like she can really do a number on him.
“Payton!” I ram into my teammates and wedge myself between them and her. “What the hell is going on?” I snatch her wrist and haul her away from the crowd over to my locker.
Unfortunately, I’m not in the mood for this drama to keep spiraling out of control. Brody and I have been at each other's necks since practice this morning. Each opportunity I’m open, he passes the ball to someone not ready to receive it, someone who’s already tackled to the turf. It got to the point I threw my helmet to the ground asking him what his problem was. Coach lost his shit on us again, tossing us both to the bench trying to figure out why we hate each other.
I thought we had closure on all the damage done to Payton’s reputation, but it’s written on her face. Something is wrong.
“Why are you here? You should be on the field,” I tighten my grip on her hand, and her cheeks redden as she digs her nails into my skin.
“Do you know?” She asks.
