Page 32 of Playing Dirty

“And you think I do?” I snap, despite my every attempt to remain calm.

I can feel him slicing through my composure, little by little, with every word that leaves his goddamn mouth. It’s exhausting, trying to hold the pieces together.

“Well, you’re clearly a lot better at it than I am,” he hisses.

“Again, it’s calledeffort.”

Not that you’ve ever fucking heard of it.

“Butwhy, Madden?” He steps toward me, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you helping me home when I’ve been drinking or caring if I’m hurt or buying me breakfast or…any of it?”

Frustration flares within me, but I harness my control over my emotions. After all, it’s almost eleven, and I’d rather not start a full-blownscreaming match in the resort lobby.

But, God, if that question doesn’t make me wanna blow a damn gasket on him right here and now.

“You’re seriously questioning me for being a good person?” I ask, slow and incredulous. “Because it’s really not hard to be a decent human being. If you put half as much energy into accepting how things are instead of making everyone around you just as miserable, maybe you’d realize that.”

I force my jaw to unclench and attempt to collect myself again, drawing in a long, deep breath. It works, for a moment. I slowly begin gathering all the threads of my sanity he’s been fraying and tugging at since the moment we became family.

But then he speaks, and it unravels all over again.

“I’m questioning you because it makes no sense! Unless you’re trying to get me to trust you. Part of some ploy to get intel for the Penny Play. Which I fucking don’t know where it is, in case you were wondering.”

What does the Penny Play have anything to do with this?

“Are you drunk or delusional? Because there’s no way you honestly believe everything in life revolves around some rivalry between our schools.”

After all, Timberwolf or Falcon, we’re both still people. Still deserving of respect and—

“What other reason could you possibly have? Hmm?” he rebuts, a laugh that’s borderline manic leaving him. “You say I don’t try, that I’m not putting in any effort. So why would you bother trying so fucking hard with someone who’s given you nothing in return?”

“Because of my mom, all right?” I shout, my final shred of composure snapping.

I don’t have it in me to care, though. He set the fuse, he lit the match.Now he can deal with the explosion to follow.

“You think I wanna do this? To sit here and try to make nice with you when you’ve donenothingto reciprocate? Of course not. You’re proving it’s a fool’s errand at every turn. But my mom loves your dad, and I love her. I would do anything to make sure she’s happy. Which I’m sure you, more than anyone, can understand.” My chest heaves, and my gaze shifts between his eyes while I mutter, “You’re looking for my ulterior motive? There you fucking go.”

The stark sound of silence fills the air, swirling the toxic fumes creating a fog around us.

Theo takes a step back and blinks a couple times, almost like I slapped him or something. I wait for him to say something, finally take ownership or apologize orsomething,but all I get is nothing.

“You know what? Screw this,” I growl. “You’re so hell-bent on fighting me, hating my mom, and being pissed off at the world, that you’re not willing to look for any sort of silver lining. And I’m done trying with someone who clearly doesn’t give two shits about the effort I’m putting in.”

It might be the bite in my tone, my proximity as I get in his face, or something else entirely, but regardless, something snaps him out of his stupor. And once he comes back to reality, so does his fury.

“Fuck you, Madden.Fuck you.”

With those parting words, he turns on his heel and storms away. In the opposite direction of the elevator banks that lead to our room.

“Where the hell are you going?” I call after him.

“Anywhere but here!”

I stare in the direction he went long after he disappears, debating and fighting with myself on whether or not I should go after him. But for once, I resist the urge to be the bigger person.

It’s not my fault he can’t handle me calling it like I see it, and there’s only so many times he can deflect reality before he’s caught off guard by the truth smacking him in the face.

And if I have to be the one to deliver the final blow? So fucking be it.