Page 78 of Ruthless Game

“What happened to moving past it?” I asked Lawson.

“Moving—” he swallowed hard. “Moving past it?” He shook his head like he was trying to shake thoughts free from his brain. “That would make me a weak, pathetic bitch,” he spat. “A real man doesn’t let shit like that go. Especially because you wanted it. You wanted to hurt me. Or you didn’t fucking care.”

“Of course she didn’t care,” that girl’s voice piped up. “I’ve seen the video. She looks like a whore. Honestly, you both do.”

The words ricocheted around the room, zinging straight into me like a live wire. I wrenched from the shock of them, expecting Lawson to snap out of this wild hulked out fugue rage state and defend me, defend both of us, but his whole body crumpled, words hollow when he said, “She’s right, you know. Both of us are whores.”

Both of us are whores.

Whores.

Whores.

I jerked like I’d been shot, curving in on myself, wrapping my arms around my body like it would protect me from the word I hated most. He’d used that word before. Whore. He’d called me a whore that horrible day. I’d been so wrong to think he could let this go. Had he been waiting for this moment the whole time? Not only humiliate me publicly, but break my heart all over again? Where had this video even come from? And why now?

Did any of that matter?

A sob tore out of my throat, and Lawson’s hand shot up as if to comfort me, but it was too damn late.

Maya grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the natatorium and toward the locker room.

“You’re fucking dead,” she told him. “Dead to her, and dead to everyone. I don’t know how I’m going to make it happen, but I’ll kill you for what you said to her.”

As she guided me out of the room, Lawson said, his voice flat and lifeless, “Too late for that. There’s nothing left of me to kill.”

29

Emma

(Then)

Have you ever been so excited, you thought you would burst at the seams with happiness and anticipation, spilling out all your insides? That’s how I felt right now as I rode my bike home to meet Max. My parents were gone, and Jeffrey was going to a party, which meant we’d have the house to ourselves. We’d talked about it and decided that tonight was the night. Well, I’d decided. Max had insisted that he was patient, and would wait until I was ready, but I was ready now.

We were going to have sex for the first time, be with each other in the most connected, intimate way possible. Was I scared? Yes. I’d heard it was going to hurt. But I knew Max would take care of me, always. Protect me from pain, and give me pleasure I’d only dreamed about.

I’d thought about us having sex so many times. Had touched myself to the idea, as blurry as it was.

I loved him. And he loved me.

And we were going to be together forever.

I have another surprise for you, Max had told me, sounding almost bashful. I just hope you like it.

I had an idea. More of a dream really: Max getting down on one knee with a ring. Oh, we were way too young to get married, but I wanted a declaration, a visible commitment between us. Heck, I’d give him a ring, too—just so every girl at Reina or at hockey games knew he was taken.

Because David Max Lawson was mine.

Reaching the house, I popped the bike stand and went running inside, anticipation making it impossible to take my time and play it cool.

“Max?” I called. “Where are you?”

No answer.

Just Noah Kahan quietly singing something devastatingly sad.

I could feel my heart crawl its way up to my throat as I walked through the house, stopping at Max’s bedroom.

Empty.