The next second, I’m storming down the bleachers, but not without King Midas taking notice. Amidst a sea of his adoring fans, his gaze is set on me. Already pissed and wondering who Ricky thinks he is showing up here, I take it out on West by giving him the finger. Of course, the bastard finds it funny, lowering his head when a smirk touches his lips.
Whatever.
I swear, I’m beyond fed up with the cocky, domineering men in my life.
Ricky’s eyes are on me the entire time I trudge across the grass, and his glare hardens when I make it to him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“Didn’t you get my messages?” he snaps.
Sighing, I fold both arms over my chest. “I was busy.”
Something I say makes him scoff, looking out toward the field when he tips his chin.
“Yeah, I bet.”
It isn’t until I follow his gaze that I understand what that means. Apparently, not only do we have West’s undivided attention, but he’s trudging this way—drenched in sweat, toting his helmet in hand.
“Not that. Not … him,” I say softly. “I had a school thing and …wait. Why am I even explaining this to you?” I ask, remembering that I have zero obligation to Ricky whatsoever. Haven’t for a long time.
West draws closer and I’m holding my breath, unsure what his intentions are as he approaches, but then he passes by like a storm I narrowly dodged. However, I don’t miss that deadly glare in his eyes. Only, he doesn’t cast that look at me.
It’s for Ricky.
It isn’t one of those looks that comes and goes quickly. It lingers between the two until West makes it to the fieldhouse and slams the door behind him.
It doesn’t come as a surprise when Ricky’s shoulders square with tension. I see it through his dark t-shirt, in the way the veins on his arms protrude, in the tension held in his jaw.
He won’t even look at me now.
“I didn’t come here for trouble,” he states first. “Just thought you should know Hunter’s getting transferred. They’re moving him upstate.”
My eyes widen with the news, as a flash of sadness shoots through my chest. No, I haven’t found the courage to visit since he got locked up, but there’s some small measure of comfort in knowing he’s not so far away. But to move him upstate? That feels like having him taken away all over again.
I’m aware of the emotion bleeding through my expression, so I correct it before Ricky might notice. Because, truth is, this changes nothing. Hunter’s still gone, I’m still doing this all on my own, and I’m still not ready to see him like that.
“Okay,” I finally respond. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Ricky’s brow draws together as he takes that in. “Thanks for letting you know? That’s all you have to say, B? Thanks for letting you know?”
“What more do you want from me?” I snap.
“I want you to stop being selfish!” Those words hit me square in the chest, like a searing hot knife, breaking skin.
“… Selfish?” I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. “Name one thing in my life that’s completely about me?”
When his expression softens, I imagine he regrets his choice of words, but they’re out there. No taking them back.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that. You do a lot for Scar. I only meant that—”
“This isn’t your business,” I remind him. “Nothing concerning me, or my family is your business. You’ve done enough already, haven’t you?”
My words seem to have struck him, like how his hit me.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
A group of girls cackle as they walk past and I hold my tongue until no one’s around to hear.
“It means you were the one who got Hunter into all this. You were the one who linked him up with your Uncle Paul, got him started on this path.”
I’m fighting tears, but I’m not so sure I’ll win.
“That’s what you think?” Ricky snaps.
“All I know is, Hunter used to be good,” I remind him. “Once upon a time, he was responsible, and then he got caught up with you and—”
“That’s what you think happened?” he interrupts again. “First of all, I’ve known your brother since we were little, Blue. So, your logic doesn’t even add up. I didn’t just come into the picture the day before Hunter started getting into shit.”
There’s a familiar pain in my chest and I know it well. It’s the ache of abandonment. The sting of loneliness.
“Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m no angel,” he continues, “but I’ve only ever looked out for Hunter. He’s as much a brother to me as Shane.”
Guilt. It slams face-first into me, because I know what he’s saying is true.
At the first sign of water pooling in my eyes, I turn to walk away, but halt. In part because of the sudden, light hold Ricky now has on my wrist. But I’m also frozen in place because West is back, and his eyes are laser-focused right where Ricky’s got a hold on me.
Still sporting the all-black uniform with his number embossed in gold, right in the center of his chest, he doesn’t move. My guess is that he’s heading back toward the field where some of his team still lingers. But now, the only thing he’s aware of is me.
Something’s clearly sparked anger within him and I admittedly don’t understand. Is it because he wants to stamp out any sign of happiness in my life? And, in his mind, Ricky is a potential source of happiness for me? Something he needs to kill before I get too high and mighty, thinking I can have one single thing in this world without him screwing it up?
It’s the only thing that makes sense.
I’m lost in thought until Ricky’s hand slips down from my wrist, linking his fingers with mine. Cool gray eyes lock me in place, and I push aside
