8. Callum

8

CALLUM

T he events of Tuesday put me in a foul mood for the rest of the week. I didn't want to be around anyone or put energy into feeling human. If I wasn't in class, I was hiding out in my room. If I had any money to spare, I would have gone out drinking if only to numb the disturbing memories and dark thoughts flooding my head.

I hadn't even bothered to text Rhys and mess with him, and his single message checking on me went unanswered. I couldn't take his attempts at being friendly after everything I had planned to do to him.

It wasn't often that I felt guilty over things or second guessed my decisions, but Rhys' being worried about me after how terribly I had treated him had a crushing weight settling on my chest. I had to distance myself to get my head on straight. I couldn't let myself forget why I was doing this in the first place. My scholarship and captaincy were still at major risk until my name was cleared, and Rhys was the key to that.

The only consolation of the last few days was the notable absence of harassing texts from Aunt Blair. Uncle Jack had somehow come through and given me some peace, but it did nothing to stem the old bitterness, fear, and rage that had come rushing back after her previous attempts at contact. His phone call hadn't helped either.

A knock on my bedroom door tore me from the intrusive thoughts. I held back my frustration at being bothered when I wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with anybody. “Come in,” I reluctantly called out.

Kenji and Griffin came striding into my room too dressed up for a quiet night in. I inwardly groaned since I knew this wasn't heading anywhere good.

“Alright Hawkins, Griff here tells me that you've been a royal pain in the ass this week and you've been ignoring my texts. Time to suck it up and go out,” Kenji said, his dark eyes drilling a hole into me.

“He's right, Hawk. You've been in a funk for three days and we're here to bust you out of it. It's Friday night, we're hitting up a party!” Griffin chimed, an excited smile showing off his bright teeth.

“Yeah, that's not happening. I'm not in a party mood. You two go, but remember: pics or it didn't happen,” I responded.

Kenji muttered something under his breath in Japanese while Griffin let out a loud, suffering sigh before plopping onto my bed next to me.

“We had a feeling you'd say that, so we have a proposition for you. Either you come out with us, or we bring the party to you,” Griff threatened while batting his auburn lashes at me.

“The hell does that mean?” I asked, annoyed.

“It means that if you don't come out of this room, we're throwing an impromptu party in your apartment. Try and see if you can get solitude that way, shithead,” Kenji chuckled, a smirk curving his lips.

I begrudgingly swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up to face the meddling duo. “You two fuckers don't know when to leave well enough alone,” I grouched.

“You know what will happen if you don't come with us,” Griff sing-songed from my bed, messing with my lucky Lacrosse ball I kept on my nightstand.

“Yeah, you two will be reported missing tomorrow and I'll be pulled in for questioning,” I growled, cutting him with an icy glare that did nothing to wipe out his wicked smile.

“Alright, time's up. We're going,” Kenji announced as he started shoving me toward the living room. I dug in my heels before he could thrust me over the threshold.

“Okay, Jesus, fine. I'll go. Let me at least change so I don't scare off the locals,” I griped.

“You've got three minutes, then I'm coming in after you,” Kenji threatened before spinning on his heel and marching out. As I trudged into my closet, Griffin followed me and leaned against the doorframe. I shucked off my shirt and changed it quickly before hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my sweats.

I shot him a disgruntled look over my shoulder, only to be met with his hungry stare sweeping down my body. For once, it didn't do anything for me other than to twist my stomach.

“If you're stressing, Hawk, you know I could help you out with that,” he rasped, taking a slow step toward me. I huffed out a breath and slipped my pants down my legs, stepping out of them.

“Not in the mood, Griff. Sorry,” I said, pulling on my jeans faster than usual. Griffin stepped into my space and grabbed my ass, pulling me flush against his body.

“Come on, Hawk. It's been a while since we hooked up. I've kind of missed it. We can both work off the tension of the week when we get back.” He cupped my cheek and leaned in close, but a flash of purple in my mind had me yanking back.

“For real, man, I'm not feeling it right now. I'm not in a great mood,” I warned, trying to be gentle so I didn't hurt his feelings or some shit. Griff immediately took a couple steps back and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, no problem. I'm really sorry, dude. I guess I'm just horny tonight,” he chuckled awkwardly. He caught my eye and gave me an apologetic smile. I gave him a tight smile in return and patted his shoulder.

“It's all good. No worries. Let's head out and get this night over with.”

Griffin led us out of my room and the three of us headed out toward West Campus where the parties would be held. Most of the Greek houses were clustered in that area, and the neighborhood was heavily populated with students. On our trek, the guys tried to pull me into conversation, but it was no use. My mood was still soured and I couldn't muster any interest in mindless talking.

I was zoning out, trailing after the guys when my phone rang in my pocket. Out of habit, I pulled it out to check it and saw Uncle Jack's name on the screen. His second call of the week had my back stiffening as I wondered morosely what he wanted now.

“Uh, hey guys, I've gotta take this call. Where you gonna be?”

“We're heading to the Sig Ep house over on Pearl,” Griffin called back without breaking stride. I hung back and swiped to answer the call before it dropped.

“Twice in one week. I'm beginning to feel special, uncle,” I snipped.

“Let's not go that far, Callum. We both know that's not true,” Aunt Blair hissed. I hadn't heard her voice in over a year, yet it still had the power to freeze me on the spot. Hatred poured through my veins like a hotshot of heroin, potent and searing.

“Why the fuck are you calling me on his phone?” I sneered coldly.

“You left me no choice. You chose to ignore my texts and then you turned Jack against me after you went crying to him. Never could fight your own battles, could you?” she bit back, tone drenched in disdain.

Adrenaline swept through my system, causing my body to shake uncontrollably. I knew I needed to hang up, but something about her words had me lashing out against my will.

“Screw you, Blair. I didn't go fucking crying to Uncle Jack. He called me because he knew you were pressing me for money I don't fucking have. Been throwing back the booze and maxing out the cards too much, have we? Might I recommend Shoppers Anonymous, or perhaps a loan shark?”

“You sanctimonious shit, how dare you judge me? If I didn't have to raise you for so long, we wouldn't be out so much money in the first place. After everything, I’m owed a cut of Leana's life insurance. She should have named me as a beneficiary to begin with, but that was her typical petty behavior. It's the least she could have done knowing I'd be saddled with you after she dropped dead,” she spit out venomously.

“Don't you fucking talk about mom like that!” I roared. “Don't you ever say her name again!”

“She was my sister! I can talk about her any way I like!”

“You treated her like shit the same as me. You didn't deserve to have her as a sister!” I barked.

Aunt Blair's vicious laughter filtered through the line, the same laugh I always heard in the dark from the other side of a locked door. My stomach turned violently and nausea hit me like a punch to the gut.

“Oh yes, my perfect baby sister. So sweet and beautiful. Could never do anything wrong in anyone's eyes. But she proved us all wrong when she had you,” Blair snarled in my ear. “You were the dirty stain she couldn't escape, a burden she stuck us with. Why Jack insisted we raise you, I will never understand. Familial guilt, I suppose. You were a poison, a nasty child who caused me nothing but grief, the same as her.”

Her vindictive, spiteful words had my knees buckling. Every memory of being told how worthless and useless I was rushed back, a suffocating wave that stole the breath from my lungs.

“Fuck. You,” I choked out, stumbling back into a fence along the sidewalk since my legs were seconds away from giving out.

“You can't hide that money forever. I will get what's owed to me. You may not be under my roof anymore to discipline, but I can find other ways to make your life as miserable as you made mine. Jack might have believed you about my texts, but we both know he won't believe you about much else. I would have thought you learned that lesson by now,” she mocked.

I finally gathered my wits enough to hang up like I should have done right after she started speaking. No matter how long I had been away from her, she still held so much sway over me. She tainted my actions and thoughts even from miles away. No amount of distance would ever be far enough to be free of her.

To the world, she was the loving, doting aunt that took in her poor orphaned nephew. The beautiful, perfect housewife that everyone loved. She joined the PTA at my school, volunteered at their church, and played the sweet caretaker in front of Uncle Jack. When we were alone, she was a nightmare in heels and pearls.

I was just the stupid, volatile kid who got in trouble too many times to be believed. The one who got into fights at school and mouthed off to anyone who tried to help. The one who wrestled with being furious with his mom for dying on him and crying at night for her to come back.

I fought back the hot, angry tears that pushed against my lash line, waiting to break free. I took several steadying breaths and when I got myself under control, I headed back home. Fuck the party. I needed to hide in bed and crawl inside a bottle of whatever booze I could find.

As I turned a corner a couple of blocks from my apartment, movement from my periphery caught my attention. I swung my head up and locked eyes with Rhys as he exited an apartment complex up the street. We both halted in place, staring at each other in surprise.

Rhys' swallowed nervously and made his way toward me. I just stood there dumbly, unable to move or break the magnetic force keeping my eyes glued to his. Any other time, that fact would have pissed me off and had me lashing out. Now, it was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man.

Inexplicably and irritatingly, Rhys had become someone I liked talking to. When I was with my friends, it was as if I had to turn myself “on” and run on pure fucking willpower to get through simple conversations. I felt plastic and unnatural, forced into the mold of the life-of-the-party Lacrosse star. It was exhausting most days. Their expectations were a lead weight on my shoulders.

Being around Rhys was different. I didn't get sick of his presence like I did everyone else. The more I talked with him, the less noise there was in my head. I was comfortable when he was near. It was like an unfiltered version of myself came out around him. I hated him for it, but…maybe not as much as I once did.

Isn't that just fucking great?

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you?”

I don't know what it was about that simple, genuine question that had me unwilling to lie to him. I couldn't understand what it was about Rhys fucking Evans that had my carefully constructed barriers falling like the goddamn walls of Jericho.

“Bad. I'm really fucking bad,” I whispered hoarsely. Rhys just nodded, empathy written plainly across his soft features. I couldn't stop the words that spewed out of me, unexpected and desperate.

“Do you want to go grab a drink? I could really use someone to talk to.”

I held my breath, waiting for him to tell me to get bent or go to hell. I wouldn't have blamed him at that moment. Instead, Rhys shot me a tiny smile.

“Yeah. That'd be nice.”

And to my great, baffling relief, I answered his smile with a small one of my own.