Page 101 of Hard to Score

Is that why it was so easy to believe he could be the monster? The one at fault?

My hands grip the steering wheel as I stare at the house.

Details.

I squeeze my eyes and try to recall what it was my dad had said that Kenyon did. The intricate details of it all. My mind draws a blank. Because isn’t that like everything about this whole situation? Fuzzy. Unexplained. A goddamn fucking mess.

Is Kenyon innocent? Is the man with the kind eyes and the warm smile I just met in my girlfriend’s house blameless?

“You did it didn’t you?” Fury and disbelief twist and turn and claw at me as I stare at my dad’s oldest friend. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open.

He’s shocked.

Fucking shocked that I’m here calling him on his bullshit.

“Drew?” My dad’s oldest friend moves through the lobby of Kincade Sports Management. “Son? Can I help you? What are you talking—”

“Don’t you dare call me son,” I shout, hands fisted and teeth clenched.

“Let’s go to the conference room so we can talk in private.”

“Why? So all of these people don’t hear how you ruined my family? How you did it and pretended to be my—”

“Goddamn it, Drew,” he shouts and pushes me through the open conference room door before slamming it behind me. I jerk my arm from his grasp, and it takes everything I have not to let my fist fly. Not to do something—anything—to abate all of this fucking rage.

“Why don’t you want me to talk out there, huh, Kincade? Why don’t you—”

“So you don’t make an ass out of yourself, that’s why.”

“Me?” I laugh the word out and glare at the man I’m supposed to be able to trust. For the life of me, I’m finding it fucking difficult to meet his eyes. “Me? You’re the one who did this to us. You’re the one—”

“Drew, I understand you’re upset. I know your world just turned upside down, but I’m not going to stand here and take your abuse.”

“But it was you. You’re the one who should be ashamed. You’re the one who ruined my dad. You ruined us all.”

I shake the thought off because if he’s not at fault, that only leaves one explanation.

That means my father is.

The man who stood before us time and time again and told us it wasn’t true.

There’s no way.

He couldn’t have.

He wouldn’t have done this to our family. To Maggs. To my mom. To me.

I reject the idea. Not because I believe it, but solely because it’s the only explanation that I can handle right now.

Talk about the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. From last night to today.

Pick.

Choose.

Decide.

C’mon, Drew.