Home > Worth the Risk (The Game #4)(19)

Worth the Risk (The Game #4)(19)
Author: Emma Hart

“He’s right,” Ben agrees slowly. “We’re just gonna have to get over it. We can’t play seriously anymore.”

I sigh and drop to the ground, the other guys doing the same. Si throws the ball over our heads, and it lands in the grass.

“So what do we do now?” he asks. “No football. No really fun way to pass this stupidly long summer.”

“We just f**k around.” I shrug. “Get the girls out here or something.”

Si snorts. “Right – Iz is usually cheering the game, not playing it, and Roxy and Selena wouldn’t want to mess their hair up or break a nail or some shit.”

“Do it for them. Then they have nothing to worry about.”

“Hey, where’s Roxy?” Ben looks over at the girls, and my eyes follow his. Selena is staring into the distance and Iz is lying on her stomach, her face in her arms.

“No idea,” I answer, getting up and heading in their direction. I nudge Iz with my foot. “Where’s—”

“She ran off five minutes ago with her phone attached to her ear,” comes her muffled reply. “She said she had to go somewhere, but really she can’t stand watching you guys play football.”

“Ran off,” Selena scoffs and turns her face to me. “She’s gone to meet Layla.”

“Layla?” Iz and I question in unison.

“She’s only been here a few months. She caused too much trouble at her last school so her parents packed her off to live with her Aunt for her senior year next year – that’s Judy, you know, at the florist?” We nod, and she continues, “Layla is how Roxy fuels her occasional drug use, and she has a cousin in Portland who gets her alcohol whenever she wants it.”

“Shit, Selena. Why didn’t you tell me?” Iz pushes herself up.

“Fuck telling you.” I look from my sister to Selena. “Why the hell didn’t you get me?”

“Because no one can stop her,” she says dryly, a hint of sadness creeping in. “I’ve tried so many times. When she really misses Cam, like really, she goes to Layla. Its how she forgets he’s gone. She drinks herself into next week.”

“What do you mean no one can stop her?” Iz demands.

“Exactly what I said. No one can stop her when she’s got her mind set on it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

My jaw clenches. “Where will she be?”

“At Judy’s house, but you can’t-”

“Just you f**king watch me.” I spin on my heel and run around Si’s house.

Like hell will I let her put that crap into her body. I’m not naïve to believe she’ll find a way to do it without me finding out but this time she’s not. This time she needs to deal with how she feels and not run from it. This time I’m going to make her deal with it even if I have to sit on her until she talks.

Verity Point is so damn small it only takes me two minutes to catch up to Roxy outside Judy’s house on the edge of the woods.

“Kyle?” she looks up at me, surprise all over her face.

“Have you been in there?” I nod toward the house.

“I have no idea what you’re on about.” She shifts uncomfortably.

“Don’t bullshit me, Roxanne.”

Her eyes narrow at my use of her full name. “Don’t—”

“Have you been in the goddamn house?!”

She says nothing, instead turning and stalking into the woods. I rub my hand across my eyes and follow her.

“Roxy.”

“Fuck off, Kyle.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a mind your own f**king business!”

I grab her arm and swing her round so she faces me. “You are my damn business. You always have been. You’re more my business than you realize.”

Blue eyes widen ever so slightly, and questions shine in them as she looks up at me. I hold her gaze without faltering, wanting her to understand something I don’t even understand myself, and tighten my grip on her arm.

“Did you go in?” I ask her again, my voice softer this time.

Roxy breathes in deeply, holding it for a second, and slips her hand into her jacket pocket. I release her arm as she pulls out a small vodka bottle, and I hold out my hand. She pauses, closing her eyes as she puts it in my palm. I curl my fingers around her hand, letting them brush across hers as I take it from her. My fingers unscrew the cap and tip the bottle upside down.

The vodka splashes onto the ground, and when she opens her eyes, I rub it into the mud with my foot. I hand her the empty bottle when her eyes meet mine.

“You enjoyed that didn’t you?” she asks, snatching it with venom in her tone.

“Not entirely. Did I enjoy emptying that crap onto the floor? Yep. Did I enjoy taking it from you? No. I f**king hated it,” I tell her honestly.

“Right. And I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I hated taking it from you because I know it makes it easier for you. It’s just the wrong thing you’re using – I think of you using that and I wonder what the hell Cam would think of you. His beloved baby sister using alcohol to forget and get herself in any number of f**ked up situations.”

“You always have to bring him up, don’t you? Maybe I don’t use it for that. Maybe I use it because I like it.”

“I call bullshit on that and every other excuse you have for it. You only “like” it because it lets you forget.”

“And I think I’m allowed to forget, don’t you?” She raises her eyebrows and walks further into the trees.

“Yep. Shit, Rox, you were there when he crashed--”

“And the rest.” She stops in front of a large tree, the bottle dropping from her grip. She presses her hands against the trunk, tilting her head down and to the side. “And the goddamn, nightmare-inducing rest that haunts me every f**king time I close my eyes.”

Her voice is tiny yet it holds so much power and heartbreak. I feel each crack spreading in her heart with each word, and it makes my own ache. It makes every part of my body ache for her, for what she’s feeling and the urge to soothe it. My feet ache to walk to her the way my arms ache to hold her close.

“Talk to me,” I say into the gentle breeze rustling the leaves above us. “Don’t use alcohol to forget, Rox. Use me to remember.”

“What good will that do?”

I give into the ache in my legs and crunch twigs under my feet as I walk to her. I stop just behind her and push her hair from her face.

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