Page 32 of Hate the Game (Playing Dirty #1)

***Savannah***

My phone rang just minutes after I’d gotten dressed in my slouchiest clothes.

I looked at it and saw that Weston was video calling me.

Another wave of panic hit me but I forced myself to take a deep breath and talk to my brother.

For all the good I wasn’t doing them so far, I couldn’t add onto my guilt that I was avoiding them, too.

I sat at my desk to answer the call and was surprised to see all three of my brothers’ faces shoved close to the screen. My heart warmed at the sight of them. The urge to cry came right back and my nose started burning. “Y’all are so cute all smushed together like that.”

Cash leaned even closer to the camera and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?” Hayes pushed Cash back and leaned forward. “What’s wrong, Vannah?”

Weston was suddenly the only one on camera. “It’s my fucking phone. Back up. Are you okay, Vannah? What’s going on? Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

I sniffed and did my best to blink back the tears. “I’m fine! Really. I just miss y’all.”

“She’s bullshitting us.” Half of Cash’s face appeared. “Don’t lie to us, Vannah. Spit it out.”

Like hell would I ever tell my brothers what was wrong with me.

At least the worst part of it. I had the sinking feeling that things would change between us if they knew I’d been all over Ryder the night before.

I was betraying them and they’d be furious.

The one trait that they’d gotten from our dad that sucked the most was that they didn’t forgive easily.

Once they were wronged they held onto that anger.

“Vannah?”

I forced a laugh and sat up straighter. “I’m just in my feelings. I guess a part of me thought I’d be done here already and back home. I miss y’all.”

Weston shook his head. “That’s not it.”

Hayes suddenly growled and then all I could see was his forehead and part of the bridge of his nose and eyes. “What the fuck happened to your neck, Savannah Lane Ford?”

My hand flew to my neck and my entire body flushed. “Nothing.”

Cash swore. “Bullshit. You’ve been hooking up with someone? Who is it? It’s not another professor, is it? What happened? What’d they do to upset you?”

I flinched and lost my battle with my tears. “You think I’d do that again?”

Weston took the phone back and sighed. “He didn’t mean it like that. We all know you wouldn’t put yourself in a situation like that again. You’re smarter now. Talk to us, though, Vannah. Whose ass do we need to kick?”

I sucked in my emotions as hard as I could. I knew Cash meant what he said. I also knew that while Weston meant to comfort me, his words revealed so much. He considered everything with Charlie a situation I’d been stupid enough to put myself in.

The little voice in the back of my head made itself heard.

I had been stupid enough to put myself in a situation just as bad, hadn’t I?

I hadn’t learned anything. Instead of just hurting me, though, what I was doing with the guys would hurt my brothers, too.

I didn’t have the right to be upset about their thinking towards my situation with Charlie.

“We can get on a plane and be there in just a few hours, Vannah.” Weston’s soft tone just about killed me. “What do you need?”

I needed to be kicked in the throat for letting any of The Apex Three touch me.

I needed to get the hell away from them.

I needed to not feel lower than garbage for betraying my brothers.

When I stopped being so goddamn selfish and thought about my brothers, I wanted to break things.

Weston still hadn’t played in a game. Hayes wasn’t the same.

Even worried about me I could see past it and through to the pain they were in.

When Weston shifted a certain way, his eyebrows pinched together just slightly.

Hayes didn’t look like himself anymore. Cash seemed angrier than ever.

And I was begging the men who’d hurt them to touch me.

“You can’t come here.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and gripped the front of my sweatshirt to hide my neck. “I’m going to finish this the way I planned to and I can’t have you three here, revealing everything. I’m okay. Trust me. I’m adult enough to handle my own shit.”

Cash wrestled the phone from Weston. “Whoever did that to your neck needs to have their teeth kicked in, Vannah. You look like you were attacked by a fucking bear. You weren’t, though, right? Attacked, I mean. Did someone hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No. No one hurt me. It’s nothing. I have it handled.”

“If it’s nothing, why does it need to be handled?” He frowned and blew out a deep sigh. “I don’t like this. I think you need to come back home. We can get those fuckers some other way.”

I had to change the subject before I lost it. “What are y’all doing home and calling me? Don’t you have a game tonight?”

A quiet tension filled the call and I regretted mentioning the game immediately. More guilt added to what I was already feeling.

“I’m starting today.” Cash’s face was tight. “Coach and Dr. Davenport are keeping Hayes out this week.”

Hayes’ voice was barely more than a growl in the background. “My season is already fucking over. My arm isn’t back to what it was and the team can’t wait for me to heal. I’ll be joining Weston on the bench.”

“Oh, Hayes. I’m so sorry.” I watched Cash look away and knew him well enough to know that he was struggling with his own guilt. Out of the three of them he was the least interested in playing football and did it because it was expected. “Are y’all okay?”

Weston took the phone from Cash and turned the video off. I heard him mutter something to Cash or Hayes before speaking to me. “We’ve got to head out soon, Vannah. We love you. Call us tomorrow.”

He hung up before I could even say goodbye. I turned my phone face down and buried my face in my hands. I’d messed up. More than a little.

I had to fix it. I had to make things better for my brothers. They didn’t deserve the path they’d been shoved onto and I could see it killing them.

If I needed another reminder to get my shit together, I had an email come through at that moment.

It was from Marla Knight and she wasn’t happy with my progress.

She seemed especially angry about an article that had been written about Coach Carrington being the most eligible bachelor amongst all the college level coaches.

According to her, he was a pig and deserved to stub his toe every day, all day, for the rest of his life.

She’d even clarified that eventually his toes would all fall off and he’d have to wobble around, unbalanced.

She’d thought it through. And made very clear that if I got in the way of her revenge she’d wish the same on me.

I blew out a big breath and looked down at my toes. I didn’t really like feet but I generally enjoyed my toes being on my feet.

“Fuck.”