Page 29 of Safe (King’s Heart #1)

Grant

The ball spirals through the air, cutting through the bright lights that shine down on the field and landing right in Landon’s arms.

He turns and bolts, his body streaking down the field at lightning speed. No one can catch him. He glides into the end zone as the crowd roars from the stands.

We’ve been having a great game. For once. It seems like I can finally focus. I think I know why, but I’m not sure I’m ready to admit that he could be the reason.

He spins around and raises his hands in the air. Even through the face mask, I can see his smile. Ecstatic and bright. It reaches all the way out—snaking its energy to me across the field. My lips stretch wider than they have in a long time.

Javi runs at him, hugging and lifting him in his arms, shaking him around a bit before setting him back down.

Our other teammates give him a congratulatory pat on the back as he walks toward the sidelines, unsure of how to really treat him now that my animosity toward him has cooled, turning into more of an avoidance.

The cheerleaders let out an unnecessarily loud set of whoops, taking my attention away from Landon and putting my usual snarl back in place.

One of them, the same one that he gave his number to, screams, “Great job, Moore!”

Landon pulls off his helmet on the sideline and looks in her direction, giving her that same ecstatic, bright smile and shooting off a quick two-fingered salute.

She smiles back like a fucking idiot. And suddenly I can’t see straight. I try to breathe through it and fix my face into something more neutral while defense plays.

Why do I want to fucking kill her?

That doesn’t seem normal for someone you’re just fucking around with.

“Hey, Caldwell! Back on the field!” Coach bellows.

I throw my helmet back on and jog out there. We only have two minutes left and are up by two touchdowns. So, it’s pretty much in the bag. I just have to hang on for a bit longer.

But it feels like my skin is fucking itching everywhere.

It’s so fucking stupid—to have that little moment make me spiral as much as I am right now. And that makes me even more mad.

We pull the win, but I feel like shit as we head back to the locker room.

It’s an away game, so the team quickly showers and dresses to get on the bus back to campus.

I pull my phone out once I’m in my seat, choosing one away from everyone else and giving a death glare to anyone who looks at the empty seat next to me.

I have three texts waiting for me. My stomach seizes when I see who they’re from.

Uncle Nate

I need to speak with you, Grant.

Please be mature. I took you in. We had good times together. I think you at least owe me a conversation.

It’s important.

I don’t owe him shit.

I fist my hand, looking down at the barbed wire while my other hand squeezes the shit out of my phone.

Going into my settings, I block his number. I should’ve done it days ago. Not that it will matter. I’m pretty sure if he needs something from me, he will find a way to get it. And I might just end up doing it to make him go away.

So no one has to know.

My mouth fills with saliva as I sit there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With trembling hands, I pull up a new text thread.

The other night, while he was sleeping, I broke into Landon’s phone. Not that it was hard. I held it in front of his sleeping face and it unlocked. I put my number in his contacts and sent myself a message so I had his too.

I can’t always depend on pulling him into closets in the hallway. I needed a better line of communication.

Me

I need it.

Tonight.

Landon

How did your number get in my phone?

Me

Not important. I need it.

Landon

Well, I can’t. I’m seeing my sister and brother tonight.

My head snaps up, zoning in on the back of his, sitting near the front of the bus. His neck is bent, looking at his phone.

Even more anger bubbles underneath the surface.

He… can’t?

The anger rises until it feels like it’s about to come right out of my throat.

I fucking need it. Doesn’t he understand that?

He can’t just not be there. He can’t be busy. I know that sounds entitled as fuck, but I don’t care. I can’t be alone—the thoughts—Uncle Nate—it’s all too fucking much.

I’m up and moving before I can talk myself out of it or calm down.

There is no calm right now. I’m a lit fucking fuse and it’s all his fucking fault.

“Hey, trailer boy,” I drawl as I stop next to his seat.

His shoulders stiffen as he slowly lifts his head in my direction. But he doesn’t look mad. More confused. “Grant?”

“Who ya talking to?” I ask, gesturing my hand at the phone in his lap.

He blinks at me, a look of uncertainty on his face, but his mouth stays closed.

I can feel the eyes of everyone else on the bus pointed in our direction. They make my skin hot. Because I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t be doing what I’m going to, but I can’t seem to make myself go sit down.

One of the other guys chimes in, either because he can’t read the ominous vibe from everyone else or he just wants to stir shit up. “Probably Stella. Stella’s been bragging about how much she’s been texting the new guy on the football team.”

I keep the smile on my face, but some unknown force squeezes all my organs, pushing all the air out of me until I’m left there suffocating.

Landon shakes his head and opens his mouth to answer, but I beat him to it. “How much are you charging her?”

He narrows his eyes, but I barrel on. “I know you’re not giving it away for free. Your mama taught you better than that.”

The bus is completely silent. No supportive laughs or jeers like usual, which only solidifies what I already know—I need to shut the fuck up.

That Landon doesn’t deserve any of this.

The team knows it now too. Without me pushing them to bully him the past few days, they’ve realized that he doesn’t bother anyone.

But no one seems to be brave enough to tell me to stop.

And my demons won’t let me stop on my own.

I lean in, talking softly. “What I want to know is, who will have the better mugshot once you get arrested too? You? Or Mommy?”

He breathes steadily, looking at me with hate in his eyes.

Javi is the one who decides to finally say something. “Grant, sit the fuck down.”

The brakes of the bus squeal all around us, making me lose my footing and stumble a few steps.

The driver opens the doors, and Landon immediately pushes past me to go.

Fuck.

I glance around the bus, but no one will look at me, all ignoring my presence and gathering their things so they can leave too.

Except Javi, who won’t look away, pity and annoyance in his eyes.

I rush back to my seat and grab my bag, then push anyone in my way so I can run after Landon, even though I’m not sure I can do anything to make this better.