Page 57 of The Harder You Fall (Rixon Raiders 3)

The pain.

The crunch of bone on bone.

Their laughter.

So much laughter.

Blood. Everywhere.

“It’s the life, Mya.”

“Oh God,” I yanked my hand away and jumped up. “Listen to yourself. Even now, even sitting here listening to me tell you why I left, it’s still not enough. You should go.”

“Baby, don’t do this.” He stood up, trying to pull me into his arms, but I resisted, stepping back out of his hold. “You make it sound like it’s all on me, but you knew who I was. You knew where my life was going and you loved me anyway. And what, now you think you just get to run away and pretend like we’re nothing to each other? Fuck that. You’re mine, Mya. You’ll always be mine. You can’t run forever.” His eyes turned hard. “One day, you’ll come running back. Ain’t no outrunning the hood, baby. You know that.”

It was a silly thing we’d grown up saying. I’d beg Jermaine not to hang out with Diaz’s crew and he’d tell me it was destiny. But it was never destiny. It was a choice, and he’d already made the wrong one.

“Goodbye, Jermaine,” I said, slowly backing away.

“You’re making a mistake, Mya,” he ground out, his eyes swirling with so much anger and sadness it physically hurt to walk away from him. But I had to do this. I had to put him in the past. Because love wasn’t enough. Not for us.

“This isn’t the end,” he called after me, as I spun on my heel and took off around the back of Shona’s house. I didn’t look back. I didn’t let myself cry or scream or fall apart.

Not until I reached the back door and fell into Jesse’s waiting arms.

Asher

“So I hear Coach Hasson has you all locked into an exhibition game next month?” My old man talked a good talk, but I heard the disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it.

My friends were none the wiser as they ate my mom’s lasagna and drank

Dad’s twenty-one-year-old single malt as if everything was fine.

“Yeah, it kinda came out of left field,” Jason said. “But if it means I get to play one last time with the team and raise money for a good cause then count me in.”

“I’d better dig my checkbook out then.” Dad smiled, but it only reminded me of a sly fox.

Everyone laughed, the mix of Mom’s strained laughter to Dad’s hearty over-the-top chuckle almost too much to bear.

This wasn’t the first time I’d played happy families with my parents and best friends. Dad liked to showboat. He liked to present a united and strong front, and usually I played along without too much difficulty. But this was different. This felt like the last supper before walking the green mile to a death sentence of security systems and business meetings, brightly colored ties and business suits.

“That would be very kind of you, Mr. Bennet.”

“Please, Jason, we’ve talked about this before. Call me Andrew.”

My best friend nodded, and I’m sure I caught him slightly starry-eyed as he watched my father command the table. Jason and his old man, Kent Ford, weren’t exactly close. There was a lot of resentment and bitterness there, but it still felt ironic that he respected my dad so much. If only he knew.

Forcing the thoughts down, I forked some more lasagna into my mouth. Mom cast me appreciative glances every now and then. This was all for her. Dinner. The fake conversation. Dad might have been a cold, cruel son of a bitch, but in his own twisted way he loved her. And if there was one thing Andrew Bennet never did, it was sever a business agreement.

Marriage.

Fatherhood.

Business.

It was all the same to him. A series of transactions where people exchanged money and services, promises and sacrifices to move forward and better themselves.

Dad got reassurance his son would follow in his footsteps. Mom got some semblance of family.