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CHAPTER 1

AXEL

TWO YEARS AGO (AGE 18)

“ Y ou can’t tell anyone.”

How many times had I heard that phrase?

Too many to count. I was raised in a household of secrets. Secrets and lies. Navigating my family dynamic was like walking barefoot in a room full of broken glass; you couldn’t move without getting cut. I couldn’t escape the suffocating tension at home, but I had hockey. At least on the ice, I had my skates to protect me.

But secrets were tiring; the more I had, the heavier the burden, and the more I wanted to hide.

“I won’t,” I replied as I stared at Preston Pearson, my best friend. After class, we’d snuck off to the local park to smoke and shoot the shit. “You know I won’t.”

Unlike my parents, I was true to my word. And to my friends like Preston. We met two years ago when I got roped into volunteering for our high school musical. I had no idea what I was doing—I was an athlete, not an actor—except what the teacher told me. Thank fuck I was tasked with something simple; coordinating the props. Preston was new to the school, but he’d secured the lead role in said musical within a week of his arrival. It wasn’t surprising to me because he was outgoing and persuasive. The guy could charm anyone into doing anything. That first day in the theatre, he teased me about my shaggy hockey hair, and despite the razzing, we became fast friends.

“Promise me,” he implored. “I almost got caught in a lie last week and I freaked out.”

“I get it.”

“No, you don’t,” he snapped. “Because you’re straight. You don’t need to hide. I’m only telling you about Friday night because I trust you. And I need you to give me an alibi.”

“Alibi? Are you committing a crime?” I quipped.

“It’ll feel that way if my parents find out I’m fucking a guy.”

I didn’t care if Preston was gay, and I didn’t understand why other people did. What did it matter to them?

It mattered to Preston’s parents. They were always pushing him to date one wealthy debutante girl or another. We both came from wealthy Connecticut families where the bottom line was the only line. Keeping up with the neighbors and being seen with the ‘right’ people was everything. Appearances were important and they wanted Preston to have the whole ‘wife and two kids’ scenario, just like them. Their idea of the perfect family. Hah. Like that existed.

“Ax? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I muttered. “You know I’ve got your back. I’ve got practice tomorrow, but I’m done by seven. So, what’s our story after that?”

“We’re going to your place to watch movies and binge on pizza, then studying first thing Saturday morning at the library.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No one’s gonna believe that. Me, studying early in the morning? Please, I can barely get through class as it is.”

“My parents will believe anything as long as I’m with you,” he replied. “You’re a Lund. That means you’re trusted without question.”

“Barf. If only they knew.”

Preston ignored my comment. I’d told him a few things about my dysfunctional family, but not everything. Secrets, remember? I was good at keeping them. Even from my best friend. Not that he didn’t try to get me to talk, but I tended to keep myself to myself.

“Just two more weeks until graduation, and then I can kiss this lame fucking town goodbye,” he admitted.

Getting away from Redgewick was my dream. Not that the small town near Rochester, New York was a bad place to live, but everywhere I went people knew me. I wanted a fresh start, a place where I could do my own thing without everyone stuck in my business. Unlike Preston, who got accepted to college in California, I was headed to Langston, my father and grandfather’s alma mater. With the top-ranked hockey team in the country, I should be thrilled. But I wasn’t. Why? Because the campus was in my hometown and that meant I was still within my parents’ controlling reach.

“Not me,” I griped, taking a long drag of my cigarette.

“Why don’t you just tell them you want to go to another school?”

Preston didn’t get it. His parents were first-generation wealthy so there was no ‘tradition’ to uphold. Tradition was a pain in my ass. But my parents were paying the bill, and I wanted to play nice until I had access to my trust fund. Only three more years. Then I could tell Bradford and Venetia, AKA my parents, to take their Lund expectations and screw off.

“You don’t understand how it is with them,” I explained. “I have to go there. It’s a done deal. I probably didn’t even need to send in an application. I’m sure my admission was taken care of when I was born.”

I know, I know. Poor little rich boy. But while it was true that money opened a shit ton of doors, what was behind some of them was scary as fuck. The things I knew about people in my family, no one would believe. And that had my brain working overtime. Maybe there was still a chance for me to escape? I’d do my first year at Langston to keep my family off my back, and then apply elsewhere. But I’d need an excuse. A damn good one. Or, something I could use as leverage.

“Unless I come up with a way out,” I admitted. “Do my freshman year and then transfer to another state. I’ve got time to think up a reason. One they can’t argue with.”

As my mind whirled, searching for a solution, Preston sighed and stood up.

“Okay, so, back to my problem, which really is a problem,” Preston insisted. “I’m meeting Jace in Hillington tomorrow. Can you give me a lift after practice?”

I’d never met Preston’s boyfriend, Jace Rowland. Well, not in any social context. The guy was one of the best hockey forwards in the state, so yes, I’d played against him. But that was it. Preston insisted I steer clear of Jace given their secret relationship, so I did. Jace wasn’t out either and that was no surprise. I didn’t know anyone on my hockey team, or any sports team, who was queer. I was sure there was rep somewhere, but things were slow to change in the world of sports.

I still had a hard time picturing Preston and Jace together. They’d met, funnily enough, at one of my hockey games. But Jace lived a half hour and a whole world away. While Redgewick was host to the Langston campus and affluent families, Hillington was a former factory town turned ghost walk. I’d only been there once, driving through, and I had no desire to return. Bleak didn’t even begin to describe it.

“Sure,” I replied and took another drag of my cigarette. “Wait, his place? Do I finally get to meet him? I mean, like outside of the usual ‘hey’ at hockey games?”

Preston snorted. “Maybe. But I’m warning you, his place is a dump.”

“That bad?”

“He lives with his aunt in a ratty two-bedroom apartment over a garage. It smells like gasoline and despair.” Preston shook his head, a lock of black hair falling into his eyes. “Whatever. It’s been a long week, his aunt’s out of town, and I need to get laid. Jace is hot as fuck, and more importantly, he knows how to fuck. Shit, what he can do with his tongue and cock is just…I can’t even begin to describe it.”

Not for the first time, I was jealous. Not of Preston, since I wasn’t into guys, but of the way he talked about sex. I’d had my first time with Olivia, a classmate, a month ago. But it wasn’t exactly the life- changing experience I expected, or the kind of sex that everyone at school bragged about. Fucking was fine; I got off, she got off. But I expected…more? I don’t know. Like the way Preston talked about it. Every time he got laid it was the best time in the history of ever. What the fuck was I missing out on?

“What about college?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “Where’s he going? Or, is he going?”

“He got a full scholarship to some college in Vermont. I can’t remember the name.”

Typical Preston, too busy for the details.

“You still gonna see each other?”

“From across the country?” Preston scoffed. “Jace lives for hockey and I’ve got my acting career to launch.”

“So, that’s a no? What happened to being boyfriends?”

Preston shrugged. “It is what it is for now. Who knows about tomorrow? I’m a realist.”

“Does he know this?”

“Of course he does. We have an understanding,” Preston replied and stood up. “It’s all good.”

I nodded and threw my cigarette on the ground. What did I care about his boyfriend anyway? It was Preston’s business, not mine. And relationships came and went. Nothing lasted forever.

He was right, it was all good.

Until the weekend hit.

I dropped off my bestie near Jace’s on Friday as planned, but I still didn’t get to meet the guy. Preston insisted there was no point. The next day, when I picked him up, Preston was in tears. I’d never seen him cry and it shocked me. Preston confided that he’d called things off with Jace, and Jace, in turn, had flown into a rage. Preston insisted he wasn’t physically hurt, but he was trembling. I was about to tear up the steps of that crumbling apartment and show Jace exactly what I thought of his shitty treatment of my friend, but Preston held me off. My friend was shaken up and just wanted to go home.

“This isn’t the first time he’s lost his temper, but thank fuck it’s the last,” Preston admitted. “I’m so glad that’s over.”

What the hell? I was seething, but my bestie warned me to let it go. And now wasn’t the time for me to get into a fight and into trouble. I needed to get away from my family, not give them a reason to hold on even tighter.

Not that I forgot about Jace or how he treated my friend. I knew that somehow, someway, Jace was going to get what was coming to him.

Two weeks later, Preston left for California, and I headed with my family to France for our annual summer vacation. Vacation. Right. My father worked every day and night, my mom was off with her latest fuck friend, and my younger brother was either getting high or ignoring me as usual.

My best friend was gone, and I was alone with only my secrets for company.

That fall, I headed to Langston College as planned. And because of hockey, I couldn’t avoid facing off against Jace Rowland on the ice–he was, after all, Sutton University’s star forward.

But I let my anger simmer, biding my time. Revenge would come.

It wasn’t a matter of if, but when.