Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Canyon

Iwas right.

Without my cleats and gear, I am faster.

What I wasn’t expecting was for Alis to up his game. The bastard can run faster and harder than anyone on my football team—ex-team now—and that includes me. Since I beat his time yesterday, I haven’t been able to do it again.

Doesn’t stop me from trying.

We’re both panting and dripping with sweat by the end of practice. Coach Davies calls it for the day, but Alis and I are nowhere near finished.

“Again,” I rasp out.

Alis grimaces but nods. We find our marks and count down together. On “go,” we both tear off down the track. With everyone gone and no one to time us, we just race. Over and over and over. Even after the sun disappears behind the bleachers as twilight chases it away. My quads and calves are on fire, but I’m not giving up.

Unfortunately, neither is he.

It’s not until it begins to truly get dark and my lungs feel like they’re collapsing that I realize we’ve been out here for hours. There’s a person in the stands watching us. When I glance up and see Naomi, I cringe.

Fuck.

“Babe,” I croak out, but my throat is too dry to make the sound carry.

After my asshole behavior yesterday, I promised to take Nae out to dinner after school since it’s her only day off.

I’m such a dickhead.

“Goddammit,” I mutter as I wobble over to my empty water bottle.

“Did you forget something?” Alis doesn’t sound one bit winded, unlike me, which only adds gasoline to my fire.

I glance at where he motions to Naomi. As though I’d forget about my damn girlfriend.

“Go home, Wonderland.”

“Maybe your daddy will read me a bedtime story.”

My fist flies through the air before I can even think. I expect to connect with his jaw, but Alis ducks just in time and shoves me. Stumbling back, I fall hard on my ass, making my teeth snap together painfully. He launches at me, his features twisted with rage, as he straddles my stomach.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Hit. Me!” he screams, his fingers gripping the front of my soaked shirt and yanking me toward him so our noses nearly touch. “Ever.”

The storm of fury and shame and fear in his bottomless dark eyes catches me off guard. All I can do is stare into his haunted gaze. I sit up more, which basically forces him into my lap. We’re both panting and boneless from our running. It probably looks bad the way he’s sitting on me, but the only witness is Naomi, and she knows better than to think there’s anything wrong about it.

“Your dad hit you?” I blurt out as though I care. I don’t.

He recoils as though those words are the most ridiculous ones he’s ever heard. “No.”

I study him for a beat. His bleach-blond hair is soaked with sweat, matted down against his forehead. Perspiration drips from his jaw. I note that his sweet scent remains—lime and coconut—but it’s a little salty too. Like maybe he bathes in margarita mix or some shit. I lick my lips, catching some of my own salty sweat on my tongue. His brown eyes are suddenly warm as they track the movement. The heat that burns in every muscle, bone, and lungs now travels to my groin. An uncomfortable twist in my stomach has me gasping in shock. As my dick thickens in my shorts—and he can clearly feel it—his eyes widen, and his pink lips part.

“Are you going to kill each other or what?” Naomi’s voice cuts the tension like a hot knife.

Alis slides off my lap as I scuttle backward away from him. My dick is hard and obvious as hell. Thank fuck it’s getting dark.

“Stay away from me,” I croak out at him, pointing an accusing finger his way. “Just because you like dick doesn’t mean you can try and force yours on me.”

“Right,” Alis throws back in a sarcastic tone. “That was all me. I’m a monster. What the fuck ever, Voss.”

He trots away like he didn’t just run his ass off all night. Before he gets too far away, he looks over his shoulder and shakes his head.

Naomi offers her hand to me, and after a second, I take it. Once I’m on steady feet, I lean in for a kiss, but she evades it.

“No.”

“No?” Shame creeps through me. “Why not?”

Did she see what happened? That I got fucking hard over that guy?

“Because,” she snips out icily. “You’ve lost your damn mind. That’s why.”

I rub my palm down over my face and let out a ragged sigh. “I can explain.”

But I can’t.

I don’t know what just happened.

One second I wanted to knock his head off his shoulders, and the next, my body reacted to the way he straddled me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I…” I trail off, my features falling.

“You can’t explain, but I can. You’re so damn angry that your dad is marrying Alis’s dad that you’re consumed by your hatred for him.”

Hatred.

Yes, that’s it.

I hate that fucker.

“Babe—”

“You don’t see it,” she snaps back, stepping away from my outstretched hand, “but I do. Ever since your dad left your mom last spring, you’ve been distant and emotionally detached. I’ve put up with it because I love you. This summer, though, it was worse. You were pissed off and out for blood. Now? You’re out of control. Don’t you see?”

I cross my arms over my chest and scowl. “I’m not out of control.”

“You’re stalking him!” Tears race down her cheeks, and a sob escapes her. Her voice is soft when she says it again. “Canyon, you’re stalking him.”

“I’m not,” I lie.

Fuck, I so am.

But it’s because I want them to pay!

“Babe—”

“No,” she hisses. “You’re going to stop this right now. Tomorrow, you’ll get your schedule changed back and talk to your coach about getting back on the football team—”

“I can’t!” I roar, throwing my hands in the air. “I can’t fucking do that, Nae!”

I shudder with barely contained anger. Not at Naomi. At them. This is all because of them. Dad. Quinn. And Alister.

“I see.” Nae forces a smile. “Then take me home. We’ve said all there is to say.”

A ball of anxiety forms in the pit of my stomach. I don’t like the sound of her voice. So resigned. As though…

“Are we breaking up?” My words come out shaky and soft. “Nae, baby, I—”

She hugs me even though I’m drenched in sweat. I squeeze her tight and kiss the top of her head. All my worries seem to dissipate until she pulls out of my embrace.

“Yeah, Canyon. I think we are.” She starts walking toward the gym. “I’ll wait by the car while you shower.”

“Naomi,” I call out, defeated. “Please.”

She whirls around and waves a hand in the air. “Are you going to quit all this?”

We have a silent stare down in the near dark. My heart rate has slowed from the running, but I’m sick to my stomach now. For so many reasons. Mainly, I think I’ve ruined my relationship with my girlfriend. Worse, because I won’t do what she wants to fix it.

Because this is more important.

Nae is my girlfriend, but this is for my family.

Mom and Carrie.

For me, dammit.

“That’s what I thought.” She swipes at a tear. “I hope you get help.”

“I don’t need help. I need to get even.”

“Which is why I can’t be with you. You’re not the guy I started dating a year ago. I’m sorry.”

“Nae…”

“Shower, Canyon. I’m tired and have a lot of homework to do. Please, let’s just go already.”

I prepare to say goodbye to the only girl I’ve ever really cared about.

The house is quiet when I get home. After inhaling a sandwich, I peek in on Mom. She’s fully dressed, still in her bakery uniform, lying on her bed. I bend down to kiss her forehead and then remove her shoes.

“You hungry, Mom?”

“No,” she murmurs, not opening her eyes. “Just tired.”

“If this job is too much, you should quit,” I offer. “Dad pays you alimony and child support. You have the money.”

She flinches at my words. “It’s not about the money, Canny. It’s about my self-worth.”

“I think you’re pretty amazing.” My words sound childish and lame, but it’s true.

“Thanks, baby.”

She doesn’t offer any other conversation, so I leave her be. I walk upstairs and sprawl out on my bed, scowling at my phone. I must be a glutton for punishment because I scroll through the pictures on my phone, agonizing over the fact I just broke up with Nae. It’ll be news all over the school tomorrow. I’m surprised Carrie hasn’t found out already through Paige and reamed me for it. Once I’ve looked through enough happy pictures of Naomi and me to make my chest physically hurt, I try to channel the pain into anger.

This is Alister’s fault.

I find him on Instagram fairly easily enough. Someone tagged him in a video from orchestra class today. Once again, I’m stunned speechless at the incredible skill he possesses. If I didn’t hate him so much, I would’ve told him that today after I overheard him flawlessly playing the solo.

I exit the video to nose through his pictures. He makes a lot of flirty, corny faces that make my gut churn with discomfort. Ever since high school started, he’s been bleaching his hair. I think it looks kind of dumb and obvious he’s not a real blond since he always has inch-long dark roots. There are pictures of him in middle school, where he had brown hair. He looks more withdrawn in those pictures. I don’t remember much of him because he didn’t hang out with my crowd of people. The times I did see him when our dads hung out, I played games on my phone or watched episodes of Mubōna Ikari. I certainly didn’t talk or pay attention to him.

There are several pictures of him and his dad—on vacation in Mexico and California and even on an Alaskan cruise.

Spoiled brat.

I ignore that Dad took us to Europe last summer when we were still a family because we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Alis.

When I click on his story, I see a selfie of him in the locker room after our death match. He’s red-faced and grinning. The caption says, “Still the best.”

Before I can think of a reason to stop myself, I reply to it.

For now, Wonderland.

I’m pleased as I imagine his face screwing up in anger as he reads it. The fucker deserves it. My inbox chimes with a response from him. An audio recording. I hit play.

“Perhaps. But my dick will always be the best.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Sommers,” I blurt out after hitting the recording button. “We both know you felt it. I’m bigger and better. Accept it.”

He sends me some emojis that are drooling and then some fire emojis. I send him a few middle-finger ones. Another audio recording pops up.

“Was that not supposed to be hot? Well, it totally was. Are you going to think of me sitting on your dick when you jack off tonight?”

I hate him.

Especially because my dick is hard right now.

Naomi was right. I’m going insane.

It wouldn’t be the first time I sported wood over a guy, but it’s certainly not something I’m proud of when it pertains to this guy.

“I won’t be thinking about you if I actually plan on getting off,” I growl in response and hit send.

“You owe me a Coke tomorrow if I pop into your head while you jerk it.”

I close the stupid app and toss my phone on the bed. My heart is pounding hard inside my chest, and my dick is at attention. I’m just exhausted, is all. That’s. All.

With a groan, I reach over to grab my lube from the drawer. After shoving my shorts down and slicking up my shaft, I groan and close my eyes. I think of Naomi’s perfect tits and nice curves. I imagine stripping her and finally being able to fuck her for the first time.

But she’s gone.

Literally.

We broke up.

Because of him.

I think back to the way he sat on my lap. His scent invaded my nostrils and fried my brain. A moan tumbles past my lips as pleasure curls down my spine. My balls tighten, and I come without warning. Hot cum splatters up, landing on my shirt, marking me with the evidence of my release. I stare down at it in horror because he was right.

I’m not buying that asshole a Coke.