Fallen Crest High

He had his mouth open and a sound choked out of him before he shut his mouth.

I glanced down. "She's lying to you, whatever's going on between you two about me, it's all a lie. She called my dad a week ago and he's in town. He wants to get to know me." I looked back up and tears had formed at the corners. "I'm eighteen in four months, David. None of this will matter anyway. I don't know why you're even going along with it."

"Because I care about you." He touched me arm instead. "You're my daughter, Sam. I raised you. It's never going to matter who your real dad is or what your mom says. I've been there since you were born. You're my family too."

The dam broke in me and I turned as I covered my face. David hugged me to him and I cried into his chest.

We stood like that for awhile until Logan cleared his throat. "This is touching and all, but…I'm uncomfortable right now."

I could sense the disapproval from David as I lifted my gaze. A smile touched the corner of my lips instead. "Get in touch with your emotions, Kade. It might do you some good."

He looked in pain. "Yeah…"

Mason cleared his throat. "Can we go? The touchy-feeling scene is done."

David shook his head. "What my daughter sees in the two of you—"

"She's not really your daughter." Mason didn't blink as he leveled him with a look. "She comes from someone else and you were the one who swooped in to raise her, but like she said—she's going to be 18 and it's not going to make a difference. It'll be her choice." He stepped forward and his chest touched my back. An arm curved around my waist and he pulled me against him before he kissed my shoulder where my shirt had been pulled to the side. His breath fanned against my skin. "And she's made her choice, a couple times now…with me."

David's face had turned to stone.

My stomach twisted into a knot and I felt it drop to my feet. I didn't know how to undo what he'd done.

Logan covered up a laugh behind us, but I knew he wasn't hiding back his smirk.

Then David bit out, "Why did you want me to know that?"

Mason fell silent.

My dad jerked forward a step. His eyes gleamed with some emotion I couldn't place. His jaw was so rigid. "You made a grand show here, Mason, and you wanted me to know that my daughter is sleeping with you. Congratulations. I figured it out long ago, but your delivery was in poor sportsmanship. Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Deliver your triumph how you did." David's eyes were unyielding. "You wanted to hurt me. You wanted me to know that she's sleeping with you. Why? Are you threatened by me? Do you think she'll listen to me if I tell her to dump you?"

Mason's arm stiffened around my waist, but he remained quiet.

David went on, "I don't like you. I don't like either of you, but I respect you as football players. I don't think you've ever been coached by someone that you respect and I don't think you've ever respected another man, even your father. I've watched the two of you on the field. Everyone has in this state and you are both ruthless. You're the best and you make damn sure everyone knows it on the field, but the one thing that always strikes me isn't how good you both are, it's your level of respect. You don't respect anyone else on the field, but you respect the game. Every time I watch you, I think to myself what kind of men are you two? What motivates you?"

"You think you're the coach that we're going to respect? Did you raise Samantha with Disney movies too?" Mason's tone was mocking and it sent chills down my back. His arm wasn't moving around my waist.

David moved back a step and he sounded sorry when he spoke. "I think of the men you could've been under my watch. You would've been twice the men you are now."

Logan had grown quiet, but Mason let go of my waist and moved me behind him. He was face to face with my father now and his tone had gentled. "You think we're two kids who grew up with bad parenting, but you're wrong. I might not respect my dad, but I love him and I respect my mother. You've never met her. You don't know a damn thing about Logan and me, but you're reaching for straws. I don't like you, but you're a great coach. I've watched you too and I know you're a great coach, but your players don't respect you, sir. They listen to you because you motivate them, but don't misunderstand that. They don't respect you. If they did, Quinn would never treat Samantha how he does. She's a prize to him. You want to paint us as the bastards that grew up with no competition. You want to paint our dad as someone less than you, but you couldn't be farther from the truth. We grew up knowing who we're going to have to deal with during our lives and guys like you, guys like Quinn are a dime a dozen. They're around every bend in the road. Logan and I aren't stupid enough to buy the crap most adults try to sell."

He turned and met my gaze. I flinched under his stare, but held it. He was looking for something inside of me and I knew I couldn't look away. I couldn't quake or tremble so I settled my nerves, stood upright, and lifted my jaw. My eyes were hard as I stared back at him.

Mason turned back to my father. "I respect you as a coach, but I don't respect you as a man. You should've never let Sam go."

The fallen look on my dad would haunt me forever. That knowledge trembled inside of me and I turned away to press into Mason's arms. He swept me up and pressed a kiss against my forehead. As he deposited me in his vehicle, I didn't hear anything. Logan should've been laughing. My dad should've been yelling. I should've been crying, but there was nothing. Just silence. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">