Page 29

I sit on the edge of her bed, pulling my shirt back on, but I’m only halfway dressed when I hear voices downstairs. Remy’s voice carries up, soft but urgent, and then another voice— her mom’s.

I don’t mean to eavesdrop. I really don’t. But I can’t fucking help myself when I hear the tone in Remy’s voice.

“Mom, please, we’ll figure this out,” Remy says. Her tone’s shaky, trying to sound strong, but it’s not working.

“Figure it out?” her mom snaps, her voice breaking. “Remy, we’re behind on the mortgage! Do you know what that means? The bank’s not going to wait forever. They’ll take everything! Everything your father and I worked for… God, I can’t lose the house.”

Shit. I swallow hard, my stomach twisting. This is because of me. My father did this. He’s the reason they’re about to lose everything. And me? I fucking came into Remy’s life and made it worse. She’s in the middle of trying to fix the mess I caused.

“Mom, please, let’s… let’s not jump to conclusions. Let’s not panic,” Remy says. Her voice drops, quieter now, but I can still hear her. “We’ll call the bank tomorrow, okay? Maybe we can work something out.”

“And say what?” her mom snaps again, harsh. “That we’ve got nothing? They’ll laugh in my face. I knew your father had problems with his gambling, but I didn’t think… God, I didn’t think he’d leave us like this.”

Fuck. My chest tightens, a lump forming in my throat. I should go down there. Say something. Do something. But what the hell can I say? ‘Hey, your house is in foreclosure because my dad’s a prick and decided to fuck you over in some petty power play’? Yeah, that’ll go over great.

Her mom’s voice breaks again, sobs muffled through the walls. “I’m sorry, Remy. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

And just like that, I’m back to being fifteen, sitting on the shitty vinyl couch in my dad’s office while he paces back and forth.

“You didn’t get into the junior league? Seriously? Useless,” he’d sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. “Do you have any idea what I’ve put into this? The money, the time? And you… you just… fuck it all up?”

“I tried,” I’d mumbled, staring at the floor.

“Trying isn’t good enough!” he’d roared, slamming his fist on the desk. “You’re a goddamn investment, Zane. And right now, you’re a bad one.”

The memory slams into me like a freight train, and suddenly I’m that kid again. A useless investment. And now, here I am, screwing up Remy’s life, too.

I shove to my feet and grab my hoodie, pulling it over my head. My hands are shaking, and I’m furious with myself. I need to fix this. Somehow. Remy doesn’t deserve to be stuck cleaning up my mess.

She comes up a few minutes later, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She looks at me, startled, when she sees I’m dressed.

“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice tight.

“I have to talk to my dad,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“What? No. Zane, wait. We can talk about this. We can figure it out together,” she says, stepping closer, her hands reaching for mine.

I shake my head, pulling away. “No, Remy. I have to. He’s the one who caused all this, and I’m not… I’m not going to let him ruin your life. I’ll fix it.”

“Zane, please,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “Don’t make this worse.”

I take her face in my hands, pressing my lips to hers. It’s soft but desperate, like I’m trying to pour everything I can’t say into that kiss. When I pull back, she’s staring at me, her eyes shining.

“I’ll fix this,” I say again, my voice rough. And then I’m gone, climbing out the window and dropping down to the ground below.

I make my way to where I’d parked my car earlier. The gas light’s on, so I stop by the nearest station, pulling up to the pump. I swipe my card, but the machine beeps angrily. Declined.

What the fuck? I try again. Same thing.

My stomach sinks. I’ve never had to think about money before. My dad’s always handled that shit. But now…

I check my wallet. There’s just enough cash to get me a few gallons, so I throw that in the tank and hit the road.

When I walk into the house, my dad’s in the living room, packing a suitcase.

“What the hell is this?” I demand, slamming the door behind me.

He looks up, unfazed. “I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” I echo, disbelief twisting in my gut. “You’re just going to run off after everything you’ve done?”

“Watch your tone, Zane,” he says coldly, zipping up the suitcase. “You’re the one who made this choice. You wanted to go play house with that girl? Fine. But don’t expect me to pick up the pieces when it falls apart.”

“You froze my accounts?” I snap, stepping closer. “What the fuck, Dad? How am I supposed to live?”

“Figure it out,” he says, his tone flat. “You’ve got your trust fund. When you’re old enough to access it.”

“This is bullshit,” I growl. “You’re punishing me because I—”

“Because you’re a disappointment,” he cuts in, his voice sharp. “You’ve been nothing but a disappointment since the day you were born.”

That fucking stings, but I don’t let him see it. Instead, I square up to him, my fists clenched at my sides.

“You’re a bad father,” I say, my voice low and steady. “You always have been. Remember when I was fifteen? You made me take that cheap shot on the ice because some kid’s dad crossed you in business? You’ve been using me my whole life. And now, you’re throwing me away because I’m not your perfect little puppet anymore.”

His eyes narrow, and for a second, I think he might hit me. But then he just shrugs, turning back to his suitcase.

“You were an investment, Zane,” he says, his voice cool. “And a bad one, at that. So no, we don’t need to interact again. Go live your life. Just don’t expect me to fund it.”

My stomach churns. This is it. I’ve lost everything. But as I stand there, staring at the man who’s supposed to be my father, I realize I don’t give a fuck anymore.

“Fine,” I say, my voice hard. “I’ll figure it out on my own. And when I do, I’ll make damn sure you regret every second of this.”

He walks up to me, ready to leave with his suitcase. “Then get the fuck out of my house.”

I don’t respond as he turns and walks out of the front door.

I park a block away from Caleb’s place. The car sputters like it’s threatening to give up on me too. Gas tank’s empty, my wallet’s a joke, and I’m running on fumes— literally and figuratively. Whatever. I shove the door open, grab my backpack, and slam it shut harder than I should.

The walk feels longer than it is, probably because I’m replaying my dad’s words over and over. “Investment.” That’s all I ever was to him. And now? I’m nothing.

By the time I reach Caleb’s apartment, I’m half-wishing I’d brought a baseball bat to smash something. Instead, I knock. Light at first, then harder when there’s no answer.

The door swings open, and Caleb’s standing there in a wrinkled hoodie, hair sticking up like he’s been rolling around on the couch. His eyes widen. “Maya—” He stops when he sees me. “Zane? Dude, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Yeah, uh, surprise?” My voice comes out flat. “Can I come in?”

He blinks, still looking like he can’t decide if I’m real. “Uh, sure, yeah. Come in.” He steps aside, and I squeeze past him into the cramped apartment. It smells like popcorn and... gym socks, maybe.

He shuts the door. “What’s going on, man? You look like shit.”

“Thanks. Appreciate that.” I drop my bag by the couch and flop down. “It’s been... a day.”

Caleb’s still standing there, scratching his head. “Wait, did you walk here? Where’s your car?”

“It’s down the block. Couldn’t afford gas, so…” I shrug. “Figured I’d conserve what’s left.”

“What the— dude, are you serious right now?”

“Dead serious.” I rub my hands over my face. The couch smells weird, but I don’t care. “I need to crash here. Just for a bit. You cool with that?”

He stares at me like I’ve grown another head. “Yeah, sure, man, but… what the hell’s going on?”

I sit up, elbows on my knees. “My dad froze my accounts. Kicked me out. Told me I’m useless. And—” I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And he got Remy’s mom fired.”

Caleb’s jaw drops. “Wait. What? Fired?”

“Yeah.” I laugh, but it’s bitter and hollow. “Apparently, he didn’t like me spending time with Remy, so he decided to ruin her life. You know, classic ‘teach me a lesson’ bullshit.”

Caleb rubs the back of his neck, pacing now. “Holy shit. That’s… that’s next level, man.”

“No kidding.” I lean back, staring at the ceiling. “So now Remy’s mom’s freaking out because they might lose their house. And I’ve got nothing. No money, no home, no plan.”

“Damn.” Caleb stops pacing and looks at me. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know, man.” My voice cracks, and I hate it. “That’s why I’m here. Thought maybe you’d have some brilliant idea.”

“Brilliant idea?” Caleb snorts. “Bro, I barely passed Econ. I’m not exactly the mastermind type.”

“Yeah, well, neither am I, apparently.” I laugh again, but it’s more like a cough. “I’m screwed. Totally screwed.”

He drops into the armchair across from me, shaking his head. “This is insane. Your dad’s really that much of an asshole?”

“You have no idea.” My fists clench, nails digging into my palms. “When I was fifteen, he made me injure some kid on the ice because the kid’s dad pissed him off. Said it was ‘just part of the game.’”

Caleb’s eyes widen. “Dude, that’s... fucked up.”

“Yeah, well, that was my life.” I let out a breath, forcing my hands to unclench. “Point is, he’s always been like this. And now he’s dragging Remy and her mom into it.”

“We have to do something,” Caleb says suddenly, sitting up straighter.

“Like what?” I shoot him a look. “I don’t exactly have a lot of options here.”

“We’ll figure something out.” He’s nodding like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “We’ll come up with something. Screw your dad, man. We’ll fix this.”

“How?” My voice rises, and I sit forward. “How are we supposed to fix this? I’ve got no money, no job, and Remy probably hates me right now.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” He waves me off. “She’s just pissed. And pissed at your dad at that. Big difference. You’re probably good.”

“Yeah, well, pissed or not, I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” I stand, pacing now. “I need to find a way to help her mom. To fix this. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Caleb watches me for a moment, then stands too. “Okay. First things first, you’re staying here. No arguments. Second, we’ll figure out the money thing. I don’t know how yet, but we will. And third…” He pauses, smirking. “You’re gonna shower because no offense, dude, but you smell like sex.”

I blink, then laugh despite myself. “Thanks, man. I bet it’s real salty. I came like three times.”

“Damn, dude.” He claps me on the shoulder. “See, Remy doesn’t hate you if you’re still banging her. Now go clean up. We’ll brainstorm after.”