Page 1 of Game Over

Prologue

August 13th - 5 years ago

Today should have been a fun and exciting day for me, seeing that it was my birthday. Yet here I was, sitting on Cameron’s couch while he watched game highlights—six beers deep with no sign of slowing down. It was almost nine p.m., and he still hadn’t even wished me a happy birthday. No, instead, he had told me how he had left yet another job because he “didn’t like the vibe.” Whatever the fuck that meant.

“God, what an awful play. He needs to retire already, he’s too old for this now,” Cameron said as he downed the rest of his beer. “Babe. Get me another one,” he all but demanded as he pushed the bottle toward me.

“Get it your fucking self, Cameron. Fucking asshole.” I grabbed my phone off the table to text Emma that I was coming over. I needed my best friend. “Actually, you know what? I’m done. Beyond. Done. I should’ve put my foot down sooner, but I can’t do it anymore.”

“God, you’re being so emotional right now. Calm down. Fuck, dude. What are you even upset about this time?” He rolled his eyes like this was a normal occurrence, and I spent my time being constantly upset with him as a hobby or something.

“Cameron, what’s today?” I stared at him, waiting for something to register. Something to show he remembered—that he cared. Seconds ticked by, and he didn’t answer, the silence growing heavier between us.

“I mean, it’s Thursday?” he answered like I was the dumb one, and honestly, maybe I was for staying as long as I did and putting up with his constant bullshit. I shook my head and let out a self-deprecating laugh because, of course, he truly forgot—why should I be surprised? The last few years, he showed up less and less for me, but still expected me to give up everything for him and then some.

“How about it’s your girlfriend’s birthday, dipshit. Does that ring any bells in that dense skull of yours?” Maybe I was being a little mean, but I wasso fed up and hurt.

“And here you go making me the bad guy again. You’re being a real selfish bitch you know that? Everything’s always all about you.” I took in a sharp breath.

“I’m the selfish one? Me? Cameron, I gave up so much for you, which was obviously my first mistake. I have busted my ass paying bills because you never want to work. I pushed everyone away because of you! I consistently chose you, but when have you ever chosen me?” I flung my arms out wide and willed the tears I could feel building up not to fall. I wouldn’t let him see me cry.

“So typical, Allie. I’ve done nothing but be a good boyfriend to you. I never cheated on you, I didn’t check other girls out, and I took you out on dates too.” He ticked each statement off on his finger, and with each one, his voice rose, trying to drive his point home. I flinched. He knew that after my childhood, I hated it when people screamed. “I’m the one who’s out of a job right now, and yet you still want me to cater to you and what you want. You think the world revolves around you, but it doesn’t, sunshine.”

“You know what? You’ll never grow up, and I’m done being more of a mom to you than a partner.” I stepped around him and went to grab my purse, but he gripped my upper arm to stop me.

“No one’s ever going to put up with your crazy fat ass like I did, and you know it. I’m so out of your league; you think you’ll ever find someone else? Why don’t you go home and calm down and call me tomorrow?”

I stood there staring at the spot where his hand was tightly wrapped around my bicep. It was possible I’d have bruises from how hard he was holding me. He still didn’t get it, and he never would. I now realized he wanted full control of me, to let my light dim, to break my spirit and tame my heart. I might have made the mistake of staying as long as I did, but I’d be damned if I remained here another second and let him ruin me anymore.

“Let me fucking go unless you want to lose that hand, Cameron. Right the fuck now.” I yanked it back from him. “We’re done. Done. I deserve so much more than the below ‘bare minimum’ you want to give. If you can even call it that. Delete my number and don’t ever talk to me again.”

I turned on my heel and flung his door open, for the first time not caring if it slammed into his wall, if his neighbors heard me, ignoring whatever bullshit he was spouting, and ran to my car. I could feel the tears of frustration and hurt starting to fall as I got buckled. I peeled out of his driveway and headed straight to Emma’s apartment, praying she had some form of alcohol on hand. Happy fucking birthday to me.

CHAPTER 1

Abort Mission

It was barely past seven thirty in the morning, and I could tell I was going to need coffee via IV drip to make it through today. Emma, Rachel, and I stayed out way too late celebrating my twenty-ninth birthday, and I could feel it in the way my body ached. At this point, staying out until two a.m. and multiple rounds of shots weren’t such a good idea for us, but we wanted to have a good time, and most of them were free. Things were all starting to look up for us, and it felt like the perfect time to celebrate.

“I truly don’t understand why we have these meetings when it could’ve easily been an email. Especially first thing in the morning—I hadn’t even had time to drink my coffee and completely wake up.” I whined to Rachel as we walked to our cubicles. We each had our own with a big U-shaped desk, set against a wall of windows in our section overlooking part of the Tennessee River and the mountains beyond. We were also right next to each other, which was nice. I set my plethora of bags down, started putting my belongings away, and logged into my systems.

“I guess so that we can boost team morale and productivity or something? Ya know, the same old mumbo jumbo they always spout,” Rachel said as she worked on getting her notebooks put away in her desk drawers. I hadn’t made many friends at work—plenty of acquaintances and connections—but Rachel had become someone I could talk to while working who didn’t feel forced. She blended right in with me and Emma, and we became the perfect trio. The unhinged one, the always sweet one, and the small scary one.

Most times, it felt like people only wanted to talk to you to get a leg up in the company and then leave you hanging once they got what they needed.

It was refreshing after working in a corporate office for so long. She was one of the few people who saw my grumpy personality and didn’t shy away from it. I could put on a good front most of the time when it was needed, but at a certain point, it got old. I hated the fake niceness and small talk that most people felt compelled to do. That was why we worked so well together.

Working my way up the corporate ladder in my PR and marketing job had been tough—to say the least. I had to work twice as hard as my male counterparts, and I always had to go above and beyond to prove myself. Now, being at Prestige Consultants, I truly loved what I did with the companies we managed, especially in the day and age of social media. We had the privilege of helping with things such as content creation, strategy development, data analysis, and so much more behind the scenes. Not to mention our Operations Manager, Celine, was one of the best I’d ever worked under. She was a hardass, don’t get me wrong, but she treated everyone equally, made sure we understood our duties, and was always quick to jump in if we needed. It was a blessing, to say the least.

“Well, it’s extremely inconvenient for me,” I grumbled as I started to sip on my hot white chocolate mocha before it got any colder, and spun myself around in my chair. After getting all of our possessions situated, we made our way down to the conference room, our heels clacking against the wood floors.

We filed in with all the other team managers and coaches and grabbed two seats next to each other. As we were getting settled, I noticed the two men across from us whispering to each other and looking Rachel and me up and down. If there’s one thing I couldn’t fucking stand, it was when men acted so grossly, and in a professional setting at that. Where they found the audacity was still a mystery to me.

“I suggest if you’d like to keep your eyes firmly in their sockets, then you look away now and keep your mouths shut.” My voice dripped with venom-laced honey, and it was only loud enough for them to hear. Rachel kept her head down in her laptop as she tried to pull her pencil skirt further below her knees, but I could see her face flush from the attention. If there was one thing she avoided, it was confrontation of any kind. She was a sweet girl, but avoided confrontation like the plague.

I think sometimes Rachel didn’t notice how pretty she was. She was shorter than me, standing at five-foot-six, and had long copper hair that was always meticulously styled. Freckles were splattered across every inch of her, and she had these warm cinnamon eyes that were so kind and inviting. The woman was absolutely gorgeous.

The two mumbled some lame apologies and looked anywhere but at us. Should you threaten your coworkers while at work? No, probably not. I’m sure most would frown upon that. However, the thing was, I really didn’t fucking care. I wouldn’t tolerate disgusting behavior, especially by those who are in positions of power. If they would do that so blatantly in front of us, people who were supposed to be equal to them, then there’s no telling what they could be trying to do to people beneath them. They also gave me the creeps.