Crossing Lines

Chapter 44 - Hayden

Saying life has been tough would be the understatement of the year.

Mila's dad got out of jail a few weeks ago, and I've seen her only a handful of times since then, using every second I could spare to fly down to L.A. and spend time with her.

Sam's first court date is only in a couple of weeks, and until then, we're in the dark about whether we'll be successful with the appeal. Mike said I should be prepared for "Plan Badass," as we like to call it. Suing the state.

But for now, my attention is on Hank, who's been busting my balls ever since I got back from Los Angeles. I can't deny I haven't been at my best lately, even though I'm still on my winning streak. But spending so much time anywhere but where I was supposed to be ended in Hank even more pissed than before, and now he doesn't lay off at all.

"I still can't believe you're doing all this for her. Did she fuck your brains out?"

"Watch your mouth, Hank." I immediately shoot him down. "This doesn't concern you."

He scoffs. "Of course it concerns me! You threw our plan overboard, you idiot!"

"Because it's my life, you fucking asshole," I say through gritted teeth. That scumbag is really grinding my gears right now.

"Watch how you talk to me, Ice. Remember who I am." He crosses his arms in front of his chest, as if that would somehow make him more important.

I'm so goddamn close to just punching him straight in the face. Fuck the contract and my career. But there's that voice in my head that tells me the struggles would not have been worth it if I destroy it all now.

So I just move out of the room, the door slamming behind me as I curse to myself. "Fucking son of a bitch." I dash down the hallway, the need to get as much distance between me and that clown filling my veins.

"Talking about yourself again, Ice?" Of course. Of course he is here.

"Shut up, Hass. I can't deal with you today."

"Ooh, someone's in a bad mood." The poor excuse of a substitute quarterback grins, and I just want to wipe it straight off his face, preferably with my fist. But I know I'm already on the edge, and I walk out of the management building before I head to my car, desperately needing to let off steam in the gym.

It works too, because I spend almost an hour in there before I hear Kill's voice behind me. "Bro, what's up with you?"

I keep on hitting the punching bag, needing to release the tension that's been lingering in my bones for days now.

The last time I saw Mila is over a week ago, and it's fucking torture. I feel like I can't function without her, and it's impossible to keep my head straight during training. The only thing that gets me going are the games—it's just different when I'm out there. My mind is so focused on keeping it together on the field that I seem to get even better without realizing it.

"Just need to burn off some energy. What are you doing here?"

It's unusual for Kill to be in the gym on training days. It's unusual for anyone to go to the gym on training days; practice usually wears you out enough to last for a day or two.

"Saw Hass running around with that grin on his face and figured that couldn't be a good sign. Just wanted to check up on you."

One can say what they want about my best friend. He might be an asshole, a womanizer, and cocky as fuck, but he's a good-ass friend. "That guy is pure stupidity. All he can do is annoy the fuck out of me," I puff before punching the bag one more time.