The Vengeance You Crave by Tracy Lorraine
Luca
I'm sitting at the island in the kitchen when the guys spill through the front door a few hours after our last class of the day.
They all went to a diner for burgers seeing as the season is out and we actually get a bit of free time. Me though? I headed straight for the training facility to put in my second gym session of the day.
"Ah, here he is. Our dedicated QB," Colt barks, eyeballing the remains of my chicken salad that's still on the plate in front of me.
Lifting my hand, I flip him off as he yanks the refrigerator door open and begins tossing bottles of beer at the others who are loitering by the door.
A few look at me with their brows drawn in concern and others with confusion, but none more so than my twin brother.
"You coming to hang or continue being a boring fucker?" Colt continues, ignoring the death stare I'm shooting his way.
"I'm busy, asshole," I mutter, casting a glance down at the textbook in front of me.
"Alright, fuck, Luc." He holds his hands up in defense as he and the others disappear in favor of the den.
"Taking this semester seriously, huh?" Leon asks, closing the door and cutting off the noise from the others.
"Something like that," I mutter.
Things are still strained between us since I discovered that he's been lying to me for years about sleeping with Letty.
I know I should probably just let it go, but I can't. I didn't think Lee and I had secrets. Hell, I didn't think Letty and I did, not back then anyway. I know we kinda went our separate ways a little after high school when she left for Columbia, but still. To know that they'd been together and I had no clue.
Fuck.
I scrub my hand down my face, my anger with both of them threatening to explode once more.
If I discovered this at any other time, I'm sure I'd have just dealt with it, but it's just another thing on top of a whole pile of shit I don't know how to work through.
I hoped that getting back here and taking it out in the gym would have helped, but while that takes some of the need to fight out of my body, my head is an entirely different beast and that wants to hurt anyone who comes close.
"Did you need something or are you just loitering to piss me off?"
"Mom's worried."
"Right?" I ask. This isn't news. She either calls or messages me daily after I skipped out early on the holidays, preferring to be back here and stalking The Locker Room for sights of Peyton.
She probably has every right to be worried, but like fuck am I confessing to that.
"Luc, I wish you'd just—"
"Just what? Forgive you for fucking my best friend and lying to me about it for years?"
"We never lied to you," he says with a sigh.
I get it, I'm fed up with having this same argument too but no matter what, I can't get past it.
"No? So how come I didn't have a fucking clue about it until that cunt told me?" That's the bit that really stings, that I had to find out from someone I can't stand. Someone who now claims to love Letty more than life itself. Fuck, he even fucking proposed.
My teeth grind and my fist curls around the pen in my hand as I think about that image of her with her black diamond engagement ring on her finger.
A fucking black diamond. What fucked up kind of asshole buys a girl a black fucking diamond.
"We were in the wrong, okay. We should have told you. We know this. We've both told you this. But it's in the past. She's not even yours."
The memory of what happened in my bedroom with the three of us last year slams into me. I can still smell the scent of her perfume and remember just how soft her skin was. I can also vividly remember exactly how my brother looked with his head between her thighs.
Letty was mine. At least, that's what I thought.
Turns out that I never really stood a chance.
They always say the bad boys always win, and I guess Letty and Kane are just proof of that.
She loves him for some fucking reason I've yet to see after the way he's treated her. I just really fucking hope that he doesn't screw it up and hurt her even more. Despite being pissed at her, she doesn't deserve to have her heart ripped to pieces.
"You need to talk to her," Lee says, being able to read exactly who I'm thinking about.
"And you need to leave me the fuck alone."
His eyes hold mine as he lifts his hand to push his hair out of his eyes. The anger and frustration, along with a hint of disappointment, reminds me so much of our father that it actually makes my chest hurt.
Even miles away, that controlling fuck manages to get into my head.
"Luc—"
Standing so fast, the stool I was sitting on crashes to the floor, I stand nose to nose with him.
We're the same height, the same build and I know we're matched in the strength department, so when we go at it, we can both hold our own.
My chest heaves in anger that he has the audacity to stand there and tell me to just put everything behind me.
My fists clench and unclench as my heaving breaths wash over his face.
"Go on, asshole. Hit me if it'll make you feel better."
My jaw pops with my restraint.
I know that for a few seconds after the pain shoots up my arm that it will be really fucking worth it, but having to look at his fucking bruised, smug face afterward, no fucking thank you.
"You need to get out of my face," I warn, my voice low and rough.
"I wasn't the one who put myself here, bro," he quips with a smirk that I really want to wipe clean off.
Lifting my hands, I slam them down on his chest, forcing him to back up.
"You need to focus on your own bullshit life, Lee, and keep your fucking nose out of mine."
He throws his head back and laughs.
"Yeah, because it's that fucking easy when I'm watching you self-destruct, bro. We didn't make playoffs, so what? You're still one of the best QBs in the country. You didn't get the girl. Yeah, well, I think we both know that you were always better off as friends anyway. Letty was never it for you. I 'lied' to you. I'm fucking sorry, okay. But you can hardly stand there and tell me that you've never lied to me."
My lips twist in frustration as I take another step toward him.
"Like… where have you been sneaking off to every night since I got back here, huh? Who are you fucking?"
All the air rushes out of my lungs knowing that I've been caught.
"I'm not fucking anyone," I scoff.
"Yeah, I know because you're acting like a whiny little bitch who needs to get laid."
"Fuck me, Lee. Tell me how you really feel," I mutter.
"Will it make a difference?" he asks, his eyes wide. When I don't respond, he takes it as my answer. "You need to sort your shit out. No fucking team will want you next year if you're acting like a fucking pussy."
Snatching up my shit from the counter, I abandon my half-eaten dinner and blow out of the room, more than fed up with Leon's opinions about my life.
The guys are all shooting the shit in the den when I pass them on my way to the stairs. They hear me coming and their voices drop for a beat but when they realize that I'm not joining them, they soon start up again.
Taking three stairs at a time, I finally hit the top floor and lock myself in my room.
It should be a new year, a new semester, and a fresh start, but I can't seem to drag my ass out of last year.
Pulling my cell from my pocket so I can put some music on in the hope of drowning out my misery, I find a stream of messages from Dad.
"Fuuuck," I roar, throwing the thing across the room until it collides with the wall with a satisfying bang.
Stumbling back, I crash into the door and slide down until my ass hits the floor.
Tipping my head back, I suck in some deep breaths.
Leon's right. I know he is. But that knowledge pisses me off as much as all the other shit.
As kids, I was always the one who appeared to have my shit together while he was the loose cannon with his emotions but as the years have passed, we seem to have switched roles and I fucking hate it.
He manages to keep a lid on everything and moves through each day smoothly, where I feel like I'm wading through quicksand, sinking faster than anything else.
* * *
"Oh look, it’s booty call time again," a voice says from the darkness behind me.
"You a fucking stalker?" I shoot over my shoulder.
"No, but you could well be. That or you're about to rob a bank," he says, appearing from the kitchen and walking around me, taking in what I'm wearing.
"What I'm doing has fuck all to do with you, bro."
"I'll remind you of that when I'm bailing you out of whatever shit you're getting yourself into."
Shaking my head at him, I march toward the front door without so much as a glance at him.
Where I'm going is the only place that makes sense right now. Seeing her is the only thing that makes everything fade into nothingness. The anger of my life dies out and gets replaced with something even more toxic.
My need for her.
As I have been every night, I’m in the space at the very back of the almost empty lot. Hidden under the low-hanging tree which scrapes across the roof of my Audi when I park.
I turn all the lights off and slide down in my seat as I begin my wait for her to slip out the back.
Thanks to Leon's interruption, I'm later than I have been the past few nights, and she doesn't make me wait long.
My heart jumps, my pulse thundering so hard I can feel it in every part of my body as the light from inside the building fills the other end of the lot as she emerges and, with her head down, heading for her own car.
My fingers curl around the wheel with my need to get out and see her, but once I do that, all of this is over.
She's wearing an oversized hoodie. A man's, probably. A boyfriend's? That thought makes bile rush up my throat.
The thought of someone else having her makes me feel murderous.
She was always so pure, so innocent. There’s not a second of our time together that I've forgotten before she ruined everything with her lies.
But all that's gone now, hasn't it? She's working in Dad's seedy, exclusive sports bar, shaking her ass for any asshole who wants to look at it.
What happened to her?
The Peyton I knew would never have done that. She was desperate to hide in the shadows and it took all of my persuasive skills to get her to dance with me at school dances. She preferred to just let me get molested by the cheerleaders than to be up there and being judged by them.
I never cared though. I loved that she wasn't one of them, that she cared more about a person than their appearances or the hobbies or sports they played. Same with Letty.
I know for a fact that if Peyton never said what she did, if her mom didn't drag her away then I never would have touched a cheer slut, or a jersey chaser.
She was it for me. Even at fourteen, I knew that. Hell, I'd known a lot earlier than that, I just didn't understand it then.
Reaching down, I palm my dick as I think about everything we shared together. The firsts we gave each other.
Fuck. What I wouldn't give to get a little bit of that right now.
But who else has had a piece of my sweet girl since then?
The second she starts her car and pulls out of the lot, I turn my lights on and follow her out.
To this point, I've only followed her to the end of the street and allowed her to turn left while I've gone right and back to the house.
But tonight is different.
Tonight, I need more.
So when she turns left like usual, so do I.
I hang back, but not too much. Quite honestly, if she wants to pull over and confront me, I'm all for it. Not that I think she'd have the balls. I'd fucking love it if she did though.
The thought of looking into her scared silver eyes again gets my dick hard every single time.
I follow her through town until she turns up a street lined with houses that I really wasn't expecting.
She pulls to a stop alongside the sidewalk of an old bungalow. The building itself looks dated but really well-loved, with lights illuminating the porch and flowers that cover the deck out front.
I park on the other side of the street a few cars down and kill my lights.
There are two other cars parked in the driveway and all the lights are on. Whoever lives here are either night owls, or they're waiting for her.
My heart thunders in my chest as I think about the possibility of the owner of that hoodie waiting to welcome her home from work with open arms.
My hands wring the steering wheel as she throws her door open and heads for the house.
She's not even halfway up the driveway when the front door opens and a man emerges. It's too dark to make out much about him, but Peyton's excitement is obvious as she takes off running and jumps into his arms.
My stomach churns, bile rushes up my throat to the point I think I'm going to have to open the door to puke.
They hold each other for a few seconds and thankfully, my stomach settles and I'm not forced to look away from them.
He takes her purse from her and leads her up to the front door, closing it behind them and cutting off my view of them.
"Motherfucker." I slam my palm down on the wheel time and time again in my need to expel my pent-up aggression. But right now, nothing short of marching up to that door and letting it out on whoever he is will suffice.
