The Handoff (Big Play #3) (5 page)

Mack laughs a little more, but then gazes down at me with a look that warns me a serious conversation is coming. I swallow, preparing myself for what I know he’s already going to say.

“I’m going to New Zealand for spring break. I leave on Wednesday.”

A tight knot forms in my chest, pulling everything inward and making it hard to breathe and swallow.

Mack keeps going, oblivious to my near cardiac arrest. “I gotta get Kaija back. I need her to know how much I care about her.”

I wind a lock of hair around my finger and focus on the dark strands. “The feels must be pretty big.”

“Yeah.” Mack smiles. “They really are.”

“I hope it works out,” I squeak.

“Layla.” Mack nudges my arm. “You know I’m coming back, right?”

I turn to look at him then, staring straight into his eyes as I whisper, “For how long?”

He can’t answer me because we both know that if he can have it his way, he’ll only be popping back long enough to graduate.

For some weird reason, I’m hit with this overpowering emotion. It’s kind of familiar and it takes me a second to figure it out, but then I remember. This feeling grew inside me as I watched my dad die. It then reared its ugly head again when Mom fell in love with Martin and forgot her children existed. It’s now hitting me again, full force.

I’m losing the people I love.

They keep turning away from me, and soon I’m going to be left with nothing but my reckless, out-of-control self for company.

#8:

A Favor

Finn

Mack drums his fingers on his knee as I steer Dad’s truck into Trentham Airport. My friend’s been a jittery mess since I picked him up. I can understand his nerves. He’s flying halfway around the world to win over a chick who may not want him. But I’m pretty sure she will. According to Tori, the feels between Mack and Kiwi Girl were pretty big and very real. I have high hopes for the guy.

But as I pull into the drop-off zone, I quickly find out that Mack’s jitters are fueled by more than just nervous excitement.

“I need to ask you a favor.”

I wait until the truck is stationary before turning to look at him.

He cringes and runs a hand through his hair.

Great. I don’t know what the hell kind of favor he’s about to ask, but it doesn’t look like a good one. Too bad I’m useless at saying no to my friends.

I grit my teeth and paste on a smile.

“Something’s up with Layla. I feel really bad leaving her, but I’ve gotta do this, you know?”

I nudge his shoulder with the back of my hand. “You’re doing the right thing, man.”

“If everything goes the way I’m hoping, I’ll be gone just over two weeks.”

My brain’s kicking in as I nod, the pieces slipping into place. I figure out what he’s gonna say before he even opens his mouth.

“I need you to keep an eye on Layla for me.”

So this is why he asked me to drive him to the airport—the big handoff.

I swallow, and it sounds loud in the suddenly quiet space between us. Tapping the steering wheel with my thumb, I force my head to bob up and down.

“I know you guys aren’t tight. I mean, you’re barely friends, but if you could just swing by the house a couple of times, send her a text or two. I don’t know what parties are going on, but if you could maybe go with her, make sure she doesn’t get into trouble. She’s been acting edgy lately, and I’m worried about her.”

“She’s probably sad that you’re leaving. That tough act of hers can sometimes be a little paper thin.”

I’m talking bullshit. I don’t really know what I’m saying. I just want to get out of this. Watching Layla over my spring break is not the kind of vacation I’m looking for.

The only reason I go to those stupid parties is to keep an eye on my friends. I don’t go because I like loud music, dancing, and beer. Give me a quiet movie theater or an afternoon playing Madden any day. Hell, I’ll even take a good card game over some of those douchebag-fests. The amount of crazy shit I’ve seen at the kinds of parties Layla attends is unreal. And she’s always in the thick of it.

Shit, I probably sound like an old fart, wanting to play cards over watching hot chicks dance in skimpy dresses. But come on… I don’t want to be Layla’s babysitter!

Mack’s talking again. I zone back in on his voice, hoping none of my whiny complaints have shown on my face.

“…and I know she relies on me. Change always unsettles her, but…” Mack sighs, his lips dipping into a worried frown.

My jaw works to the side, fighting me when I open my mouth to agree. I hate the look on his face right now. I’m his friend; I shouldn’t be thinking twice about saying yes.

“I wouldn’t normally ask you, but Colt’s busy with Pix these days and Tyler’s…”

“Tyler,” I mutter.

Mack snickers and nods. “Plus, he’s going boarding with Sammy and the guys. Thing is, I know I can trust you.”

How the hell am I supposed to say no to that?

“Of course I’ll look out for her.” I punch out the words then force a smile. It’s tight and no doubt transparent, but Mack’s so relieved by my answer he doesn’t even notice.

“Thanks, man. I knew I could count on you.” Shouldering his door open, he gets out of the truck.

I walk around back to help him lift his bag out of the bed. He’s only got a large backpack and his computer bag, which is already resting on his shoulder.

He grabs the weighty pack and looks at me.

“You got everything?”

“Triple-checked before I left.” He grins. “I’m not doing anything to screw this up.”

I laugh and shake my head at him. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

“I hope so.” A slight look of worry flickers over his face. I’m not sure if he’s anxious that Kaija won’t be into him showing up or that Layla’s gonna get herself in trouble while he’s gone.

Stepping forward, I slap his shoulder and try to eliminate one of those concerns. “You have my word, man. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to your sister.”

Mack gives me a grateful smile and holds out his fist. I tap my knuckles against his then stay where I am to watch him walk away. There’s a bounce in his step again. He’s got his drive back, and I have no doubt Kaija will jump straight into his arms when she sees him.

A car horn beeps behind me. I give the impatient driver a little wave before running around to the driver’s side and moving the truck.

Following the road out of the airport, I lean forward to watch a plane rising into the sky. It’s pretty epic what Mack is doing. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever find a girl worth jumping on a plane for. Focusing back on the road, I brake at the stop sign and check both ways before pulling onto the main road and heading back to Nelson.

My grip on the wheel grows tighter with each passing mile. It’s a forty-minute trip from Trentham to Nelson and by the time I reach home, my muscles are tense and aching.

Mack’s favor is not a big deal. I’m simply checking in on Layla every now and then…and being a wallflower at a few parties. I’ll just pretend I’m one of those silent bodyguards who hovers in the background.

So why does it feel like the world’s biggest burden?

I slam the truck door and stalk to my front door with a sharp frown, wishing for a second that I wasn’t the guy everyone turned to when they needed help. I usually don’t mind, but not this week. Looking out for a bratty little troublemaker is not my idea of a relaxing spring break.

#9:

Sucker Punch

Layla

Spring break. It’s finally here…and not going at all like I planned.

It’s Friday afternoon. School finished an hour ago, and I should be suiting up for a hot party with my girlfriends. A few weeks ago, I couldn’t wait for this one-week vacay. I had it all planned in my head. Roxy, Michelle, and I would go shopping, hang out and watch romantic movies, go to parties at night, and sleep in the next day.

But no.

Roxy and Michelle are leaving me too.

It’s impossible to smile as they hug me goodbye.

“I’m sorry I can only take one friend.” Roxy winces.

I shake my head, my throat too thick to say anything.

Apparently, Roxy invited me on her family trip to LA a couple of weeks ago. She said I refused, saying it sounded like a drag. I have absolutely no memory of it, but she followed up my argument with the plausible truth that I was probably too drunk to remember.

I’m not saying I don’t drink too much sometimes, but the way Roxy talks about me makes me feel like I drink too much ALL the time. It’s getting really old.

Michelle kisses my cheek and gives me a sunny smile.

“See you after the break.” She skips to the car, oblivious to how horrible I’m feeling right now.

I rub my forehead, trying to keep the pounding headache at bay. I’ve been feeling off all day. Ever since that party last weekend, I’ve been really unsettled. Sleep is a joke. I’m waking up multiple times in the night, the creeps crawling all over me as I try to remember my dreams. All I get is more fuzzy images of hands and lips. I pray to God they’re not memories like my ranting dreams were. Paired with the nauseated tension in my stomach, I just don’t think I can handle them being the truth.

Usually when I get together with a guy, I really enjoy it. I love getting lost in a heated moment of passion. It’s a good way to forget. But these dreams, these fuzzies… They’re not warm and pleasant. There’s something dark and foreign about them.

I wave goodbye as Roxy’s family drives away with Michelle. Sammy, her younger sister, has gone the opposite direction to Big Sky, Montana. Tyler’s older brother works there, so the family goes up every year for snowboarding, and he’s always allowed to take as many friends as he likes. Lucky him.

Folding my arms over my chest, I spin away from Roxy’s house and head home. Looks like it’ll just be me and some romance novels, and maybe a few chick flicks. I guess it’s not all bad. Escaping into another reality is probably just what I need.

Mom and Martin are still working over the break, so I’ll have the house to myself. That thought settles me a little. At least I don’t have to deal with family drama while everyone else is away.

I shuffle home, trying to convince myself that this will be a lovely break, just what I need. I don’t manage to do it. By the time I walk through my front door, I’m feeling miserable, lonely, and actually kind of sick.

Frowning, I touch my forehead again and notice how warm I feel. I pull off my jacket as I walk up the stairs, convincing myself I’m just a little hot from walking. Pushing open my door, I throw my jacket on the chair, then stop short when I see the person I hate most sitting on the end of my bed.

“What are you doing here?” I snap. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Brownridge this break?”

Derek’s left shoulder hitches as he smirks at me. “I changed my mind. Thought I’d come hang out with you while Mack’s away.”

I scowl into his beady eyes. “In your dreams. Get out of my room.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that.” There’s a lilt in his voice that makes my stomach curdle. “You like spending time with me.”

“No, I don’t!”

He rises from the bed with a soft chuckle and walks toward me. His movements are smooth and confident, making that sick feeling in my gut strong and aggressive.

I step away from him as he sticks out his hand. He’s holding a stack of photos. I frown, crossing my arms and refusing to take them.

“You’re gonna want to look at these.”

“Why?”

He snickers. “Because it’s proof.”

“Of what?” I give him a dark glare.

“How much you like me and my friends.” His right eyebrow twitches as his smile grows dark and ominous.

“That’s bullshit.” I snatch the photos out of his hand, the foreboding inside me making my knees buckle.

I lean against my wall and stare down at the images.

My insides pitch and flail. I’m surprised I don’t throw up right on the spot.

It’s me. Well, my back anyway, but I know it’s me, because I’m wearing that sexy little red dress I wore to the party last weekend. The straps are hanging off my shoulders so my back is totally exposed to the camera. You can nearly see the top of my butt. That’s not the worst part, though.

Derek’s hands are on me. His fingers are splayed over my back while his lips are pressed against my naked shoulder.

“You sick bastard,” I whisper, flicking over the next image and the next.

They get worse. More skin’s revealed, more hands on my body. His asshole friend, the one who hurt Colt Burgess at the beginning of the season, gets in on the action, and there are photos of me being mauled by both of them.

Breaths are puffing out of me, hot and erratic, by the time I reach the end. There are eight images altogether. Eight glossy rectangles of destruction.

“You asshole.”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me.” Derek raises his hands like two white flags. “You started it.”

“I would never do that!”

“Oh, really, Layla? You sure about that?” His dark eyes challenge me, and my only defense is to hurl the photos in his face.

He ducks away from them, sniggering as they scatter across my bedroom floor.

“You were pretty wasted last weekend, sweet girl…and you got horny. I have to say it was kind of awkward, but then I thought it’s not like we’re related…and you are pretty hot.”

I close my eyes and look away from him, willing it all to be a big, fat lie. I’d never let that creep touch me. It can’t be true.

My eyes pop open and I spy an upturned picture on the floor. My head is bent back, giving Derek easy access to my neck. I’m gripping his shirt like I’m into it.

No. This can’t be happening. I would never…

“Why didn’t you stop me? You sick freak!”

“I’m not going to deny myself a hot chick when she’s throwing herself all over me, and then you invited Quaid into the action.” He starts laughing. “Someone started snapping pics and I was like…this opportunity is too good, you know?”

“Opportunity?”

“Yeah.” He nods, not looking the least bit guilty or remorseful. “See, after you were done shoving your tongue down my throat, I found the party paparazzo and offered them some sweet cash for the pics.” Leaping towards me like a panther, he boxes me in with his arms. “Finally, Layla, I have something to hold against you.” His breath touches my skin like a toxic gas.

I flinch away from him, my upper lip curling as I look into his dark eyes. “You don’t have anything. You expose those photos, you’ll be exposing yourself.”

His smile reminds me of the demented Joker from the Batman movies. He lets out this maniacal titter. “I’m not afraid of the publicity. Getting it on with my luscious stepsister makes me a king…and you a slut.” He whispers the last word, sounding like a viper. “Imagine what Mack will think when I show him. Man, I can picture the look on his face right now. Can you see it?” His lips curl with a gleeful smile.

I want to slap him, punch him in the groin until he’s crumpled on the floor, but I can’t. Because he’s right. Exposing those photos will finish me. I’m already classed as the drunken wild child with the loud mouth; I can’t handle more. And Mack… He’ll never look at me the same. He’ll be so incredibly disgusted.

I pull in a shuddering breath. “You wouldn’t be stupid enough to show him. He’ll beat the living shit out of you.”

“He can try, but when he fails at that, the truth will still remain. His precious sister played Tongue Twister with his greatest enemy. And I know you, Layla. You’re not willing to risk destroying your relationship with your adored brother. You need his approval, because you’re pathetic, and without him, you’ve really got no one left who actually cares about you.”

My chest deflates as his words hack my insides to shreds. “What do you want?”

“I’m still deciding, but I thought you should know that I have these photos and I
will
be using them to my advantage.” He pushes off the wall and starts collecting them up, glancing over his shoulder with a friendly smile. “So, as long as you do everything I say, these won’t surface.”

“I hate you.”

He stops and faces me with an admonishing kind of look. “That’s not the best start. I think, actually, Layla, it’s in your best interest to treat me nice. At this stage, you and I are the only people who know about these.”

“What about the party paparazzo?”

“They’ve been paid off. You don’t need to worry about that.” He winks then wiggles his eyebrows at me. Spinning on his heel, he wags his finger in the air like he’s the professor and I’m sitting in on one of his lectures. “So, I’ve had a few ideas already.”

“Screw you, I’m not doing this. You can’t blackmail me.”

He turns back, mocking surprise. “Oh, but see, I can.” He pulls out his phone and starts tapping the screen. “With just a few little taps, your shame’s going to be flooding the world of social media. And we all know how vast and wide that world can be. Heck, it can probably reach all the way to New Zealand.”

My lips start to tremble as he pulls up an image on his screen…and I do the only thing I can think of. Snatching the phone from his grasp, I spin on my heel and bolt for the front door.

“Layla!” he yells. “Bring that back!”

My shoes smack onto the marble entryway. Racing for the door, I yank it open and bolt into the afternoon sun. I can sense Derek behind me. He’ll chase me down and rip the phone from my hands, and then end me by posting the images all over the Internet. I can’t let that happen.

Shoving the phone into my bag, I pump my arms and will my body to move a little faster.

“Layla!” Derek hollers down the road. I don’t look back, instead taking a sharp right and cutting into our neighbor’s yard. Running down the edge of their lawn, I shoulder open the gate and sprint into their backyard. I have no idea where I’m going; I just need to get away.

Derek’s no doubt fitter than me and he’ll be on my tail in a second. I have to think smart or he’s going to get me. Jumping over a vegetable garden, I leap onto the wooden compost box then brace my hands on the fence and vault over it.

I land with a hiss, my body screaming at me to give up already. But there’s no way in hell.

Pushing off the fence, I pump my legs and keep going.

“Layla! Where the hell are you?” Derek’s voice isn’t too far behind me. He must have followed me into the backyard.

I keep running, my feverish body lacking the energy I need to survive this escape. Turning left, I bust out of the next backyard and hit the street again. There’s a park just down the road—maybe I can find a decent place to hide. My feet hurt as my boots slap against the pavement. I hit the park and stop to catch a quick breath. The space is open with only a small swing and slide set. There’s no point hiding in the short tunnel; he’ll find me in a heartbeat.

So where else can I disappear? I look to my right and spot a possibility.

Running down the edge of the park, I aim for the thick hedge that borders the houses backing onto the park. I grit my teeth and scramble into the shrubbery. Sharp branches nick my skin, scratching my bare arms as I push deeper into the bush. I hit the grimy fence behind it and crawl further into hiding. It’s suffocating and painful, but I force my body still as I wait out Derek’s search of the area.

I don’t see him until he’s running straight past me.

Swear words are spewing from his mouth like black curses. He’s going to make me pay for this. I suddenly wonder if I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life. Those pictures won’t just be on his phone. He’ll have them stored somewhere else, and he’ll post them for sure.

But he wants me to do stuff for him, so maybe he won’t post anything until he’s at least tried to blackmail me. And he can’t blackmail me if he can’t find me.

“Shit!” Derek shouts, then swivels around and stalks back the way he came. “Layla!”

I force my body still as he hollers my name. I wait until his calls have softened in the distance before struggling out of the hiding space.

I’m covered in dirt, grime, and scratches. I think there’s a cobweb in my hair. With a soft yelp, I scrub my fingers through my long locks and pray there’s no spider crawling around up there. My body is trembling and my joints ache. A cold shiver whistles up my spine, but I have to keep moving. Too scared to linger, I jog out of the park and head away from my neighborhood in search of somewhere to spend the night.

I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. All I know is that hiding is my safest bet. If Derek does suddenly decide to post those pictures, they won’t be able to touch me if no one knows where I am.