“Izzy…” her sweet voice called. I looked down into my arms. Bright red blood poured from her mouth onto her chest. “I can’t breathe.” She coughed a wet cough that ended with her gasping for breath. I wiped the hot blood away from her mouth so it wouldn’t go back into her lungs.
“Hold on, hold on for us,” I told her, my voice cracking. My chest burned, my lungs ached. The sound of cars crashing finally stopped. Silence fell.
She looked me in the eye. “You could… have… saved me.” Her eyes became blank, her pupils dilated. Her body went limp in my arms. No, no, no. NO!
I bolted up in bed, gasping for air. Sweat rolled down my face as I searched my dark bedroom. Home. Sophie’s been dead for years. My fault. Fuck, it was my fault. My heart tried to rip itself in two as I brought my knees up and rested my elbows on them. Taking deep, shaking breaths, I wiped my face. I should have fucking got out of the car! I should have fucking tried harder! She was dying and I just fucking SAT THERE! My hands came back wet. My eyes continued to burn. More tears fell down my face. My chest stayed tight, my lungs not taking in enough air. I laid back down and watched the shadows from the tree outside dance across the ceiling.
It should have been me. It should have fuckin’ been me.
Chapter 6
Saturday
Asher
An annoying buzz woke me up. Groaning, I rolled over and shut it off. MMA practice. Right. I rolled onto my back and took a deep breath. Another Ally dream. That was the third this week. And they always ended at the best damn part. I laid there, taking deep breaths until my body grew soft again. Normally I’d just take care of it, but I was dreading going downstairs today. How much of an ass was Dad going to be?
When my hard on was finally gone, I got up and went to my dresser. I got dressed on autopilot and headed downstairs.
When I stepped into the kitchen, I came up short. Dad was at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. And surprisingly, Jessica was there too, in her pink Hello Kitty pjs, standing at the stove and trying to make eggs.
I moved into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of cereal. No way was I sticking around long enough to cook anything. I eyed Jessica’s cooking. “The heat is too high. You want medium high.”
She said nothing as she turned down the burner.
I stood against the sink and looked out the window, watching the sun rise.
“You have training this morning?” Dad asked. I let out a breath. So much for a quiet breakfast.
“Yeah, MMA.” I was almost done with breakfast anyway.
“Good cardio, but no fighting. You don’t want to break something or damage your arm,” he informed me absently.
“Sparring is part of it,” I said before I could think.
“Well, knock that shit off. You’re going to get injured and blow your ride,” he said.
I put my bowl in the sink and closed my eyes. I hadn’t realized how tired I was of his bullshit. How tired I was of pretending to be someone I wasn’t. It finally hit me full on. What I wanted, what I didn’t. I couldn’t do this the rest of my life. I could barely do it the rest of his visit.
“No, I won’t,” I said, my heart pounding. “I’m not playing football in college.” Tension filled the room.
His chair scraped against the tile. “What are you talking about? Of course you are.”
I turned around and met his eyes. He was leaning against the kitchen island. “I don’t want to play football for the rest of my life.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension there. Just accept it. Please. It was a futile hope, but a hope all the same.
His eyes flashed. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about money,” he reminded me. “It’s about the scholarship to get you through school, and then the money you’ll make in the pros. If you’re good enough, you’ll be set for life by the time you're twenty-four.” He shook his head. “Football is your future. You’re not going to get into college any other way.”
Anger flashed through me. “I have a three-point-nine GPA. Of course, you would know that if you ever asked about my grades instead of about my football stats.”
He shook his head. “Listen here. You are going to get a scholarship. You’ll play football in college and move on to the pros.”
I met his eyes and shook my head. “No. I’m not.” Accept it, Dad, please.
His jaw clenched, his eyes grew hard. “Then don’t expect me to pay for it.” What? That’s all he had to say?
“I’ll get a student loan,” I told him.
He scoffed. “You need someone to co-sign, and I’m not doing it. I’m not going to help you set yourself up for failure.”
It was like a blow to the stomach. Failure… rage coursed through me. “Fine. You know, if you cared half as much about Jessica’s grades as you do about me playing football, then she'd have a better GPA.” I was sick of it. Sick of the way he treated Jessica, sick of the way he treated both of us. I was done. I walked away from him and out of the kitchen. Snagging my keys on the way, I left the house. Anger burned in my gut all the way to the gym.
Lexie
I was gasping as I rolled off of Maddie’s back and dropped to the mat. I had managed to put her in a hold that made her tap out. Again.
“Damn, Lexie,” Maddie said. “You’re kicking my ass too much.”
“Think of it as me getting even for all the times you’ve pinned me,” I countered. She chuckled. I got to my feet and reached down to help her to hers. She was shaking her head as we reached Dave.
“Maddie, you did well. You pushed her into her usual weak areas and kept her there.” He turned to me. “Lexie, you’re improving on your grappling, but Maddie shouldn’t have been able to get her hands on you. Work on your cardio.” He turned back to Maddie. “Give us a minute.” She smiled and headed off to the showers. Dave gestured for me to follow.
He led me over to the room Isaac was training in. Isaac was tearing into a punching bag. His face was hard, his jaw clenched.
“Do you know what’s wrong with Isaac?” he asked.
“No…” I said. I watched him beat into the bag. “Nothing I can think of.”
Dave sighed. “What about Asher?”
I turned to where he was looking. Asher was laying into his sparring partner. His partner was holding his own, but Asher was going all out.
“His dad is in town,” I offered.
“Shit,” he snapped. “I’m taking him off sparring until that ass leaves.” Dave moved toward the ring Asher was sparring in.
I headed back to the main gym room and towards the lockers, unwrapping my hands as I went.
“Hey, Beautiful, are you done?” Ethan asked, breathless as he met me in the center of the large room.
“Yeah, how about you?” I asked as we headed toward the front and the lockers.
“Oh yeah. I’m done,” he grumbled. I eyed him; he was walking with a slight limp.
“Snoopy, is your back hurting?” I asked, in a low voice. Ethan didn’t exactly like to advertise the slipped disks in his back.
“Yeah. My massage therapist is off at a family reunion this week,” he muttered. “Think you could give me a hand, or two?”
I smiled. “Sure, but you need to put sunblock on me again.”
He instantly perked up and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.”
I was laughing when we reached the lockers. After I opened my locker, I pulled out my bag and headed for the women’s showers.
Today we were going out to the quarry to swim. The guys thought it would be better than going to my house. Less Tara at least. I took a quick shower before pulling on my two-piece suit. Then I slipped my street clothes over that. Feeling tired already, I washed my face with cold water, hoping it would wake me up.
I slipped on my sandals, threw my hair up into a bun, slapped some sunscreen on my face, and called it good.
When I came back out, the boys were all in their board shorts and had their bags slung over their shoulders. Everyone headed outside.
“So, where is the quarry?” I asked them as we stepped out into the blaring heat. Ugh, yuck. It was like running into a wall of burning air.
“I’ll go with ya,” Ethan offered. He held the car keys out to Isaac. Isaac shot him a look, his face hard.
“Sure. I’ll take the car,” he muttered on his way to their sedan.