“Annalise, please don’t walk away from us,” he begs. “I need you in my life. I love you so much.” He reaches between us and gently grabs the dainty gold rose dangling from my neck, the gift he bought me for our one-year anniversary. “The necklace you’re wearing symbolizes my eternal love for you. Doesn't that mean something?”
“You can have the stupid necklace!” I unclasp it, tossing itinto the snow. “It means nothing to me.Youmean nothing to me.”
He kneels to the ground, collecting the necklace and clutching it tightly, his cries echoing through the park.
“Have a nice life, Maddox,” I spit.
As I turn my back to him, an icy chill wraps around my heart. Not only am I leaving him behind, but the remnants of my former self—the naive girl who believes in soulmates and so foolishly fell in love.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
maddox
Away gamesnever affect my performance. The crowd’s boos and taunts don’t faze me. They fuel me, and I always get a sense of satisfaction beating them in their own city.
We’re playing in Houston tonight against my old teammates. They’re familiar with my style, which gives them an advantage. The way they're able to predict some of my moves is making things challenging for me.
I’m off my game tonight. We’re in the fourth quarter with two minutes left on the clock. I typically average thirty points per game, but tonight I only scored fifteen—which is better than scoring nothing at all, but to me, this is an embarrassment. I’m supposed to be their star player, but I’ve played like shit tonight. My mind is elsewhere, causing several turnovers and missed shots.
I can’t lose focus and let my team down any more than I already have. I need to put my personal issues aside and accept the fact that what I had with Annalise is meant to stay in the past.
The Phoenixes are leading by seven, but we still have a chance to take home the win. Their point guard, Stephen Cooke,attempts a two-pointer, but the ball bounces off the rim. Darius grabs the rebound and passes it to Elijah. We sprint down the court, the adrenaline kicking in.
Elijah tries to shoot from the three-point line, but he’s surrounded by defenders. He spins around and launches the ball in the air. I leap up, slamming it into the basket.
Desperate to prevent us from catching up, Houston goes for another three but misses again. I dribble the ball down the court, my heart racing as I navigate past defenders. I spot Andrés open near the three-point line and pass the ball to him. He shoots it with ease and it swishes through the net. Now we’re only trailing by two points.
The Phoenixes make a sloppy pass, and the ball bounces right into Chandler’s hands. Groans and curses ripple through the crowd, and I can’t help the smile on my face.
Chandler passes the ball to me as the clock ticks down the final seconds. I can play it safe and go for a layup, which would tie the game and force us into overtime, or I can take a gamble and go for a three.
Seven seconds…
Six…
Five…
I launch the ball from the three-point line, feeling a surge of anticipation as it soars through the air. It hits the backboard before sinking into the net right before the buzzer sounds.
Angry Phoenix fans shout at us. Several of them yell, “Fuck you, Kamado, you traitor!”
Andrés pats me on the back. “Glad you finally decided to wake the fuck up.”
There’s nothing quite like the feeling of walking into the locker room for practice after an away win. The atmosphere makes medetermined to work harder after my shitty performance last night. I may have scored the game-winning basket, but that doesn’t excuse the rest of the game.
I drop my bag on the bench and open up my locker before Elijah taps me on the arm and kicks his head to the side, signaling for me to move in closer.
“What’s up? Are you about to profess your undying love for me or something?” I tease.
He doesn’t laugh, a serious look settling on his face. “Don’t cause a scene,” he says, keeping his voice low. “But I just saw Lucas Hilton walk out of the general manager’s office.”
My blood runs cold. Lucas Hilton is my nemesis and the bane of my existence. Everyone in high school thought he was a nice guy, but I saw him for who he really is—a conniving snake who tried to go after Annalise when we were together.
She would always brush it off and tell me I was being dramatic, and that Lucas was just being friendly. But I knew what his true intentions were.
“What the fuck is he doing here? Isn’t he in the G League?”
“I’ve been hearing rumors about how we’re trying to get a new sixth man. Simmons’s knee has been acting up a lot lately. I don’t think he fully healed from his injury last season.”
