Chapter 166
Noah
I paced back and forth by the bathroom sink, running a hand through my hair for what felt like the hundredth time. I’d checked my phone so many times the screen should’ve worn thin. Should I call again? Text? Pretend I wasn’t coming apart at the seams?
I didn’t want to sound desperate.
But I was well past that.
Finally, I lifted the phone to my ear and hit record.
“Aiden—please, I need to talk. Are you awake? If I don't hear from you, I'm coming over. I mean it. Call me back.”
Back in the room, the party roared on. Keon’s music thumped through the walls and the crowd around the coffee table dissolved into the usual chaos—jokes, dares, the small rituals of boys trying to forget school and deadlines and future responsibilities. I tried to plug in while glancing at the phone every five seconds.
Keon leaned over. “Dude, is the Queen texting you back?” his voice teased.
I forced a laugh. “Not exactly,” I said.
Miguel elbowed Keon and grinned. “Maybe HIS queen Lexie of Texas is, right?”
They laughed like we were all in on the same private joke. Like everything was light and simple. I played along because it was easier than explaining the knot in my stomach.
“Man, you okay?” Miguel asked, quieter a second later, eyes searching. He’d known me enough by now to miss the tremor under my smile.
“Yeah,” I lied. “I think I’m just drunk.” But I wasn’t. I had to go.
I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t say goodbye. Excuses would write themselves tomorrow—alcohol, exhaustion, post-game crash. I slipped out while everyone shouted and someone loudly argued their way through a three-truths drinking game.
The stairs felt longer than they should have. I kept telling myself to just crawl into bed, do the sane thing—sleep it off. That was probably what Aiden had done. But the truth was louder than rational thought: I needed him. I needed him to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay. That I was going to be okay.
By the time I reached the dorm hallway, I’d convinced myself I was only going inside to change—maybe think more clearly, maybe decide something reasonable. The hallway was darker than usual, the building holding its breath. I swiped my key card, missed, swiped again, cursing under my breath. And that’s when I saw it. A shape a couple meters away from my door. A silhouette that hadn’t been there before.
“Aiden?” I said, stupidly hopeful.
The shadow shifted. A crooked smile. The wrong laugh.
“Sorry, son. Just me.” My father stepped forward, eyes glittering. “Did you miss me?”
My heart shoved into my throat like someone had taken a fistful. “What the hell are you doing here?” I tried to keep my voice steady and failed.
He took a step forward, throat working like he’d rehearsed a thousand lines of charm. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” I laughed once, sharp and ugly. “Fine. Talk. Say your piece and leave.”
He shook his head, annoyed. “I’d rather you invite me in than make a spectacle in the hall.”
His tone was casual, but it slithered. He smelled like stale cigarettes, cheap whiskey, and that familiar thing I’d always hated on him—confidence that rotted on the tongue. The hallway felt too narrow for his body, too close for the life I’d left behind. The walls might as well have been closing in around us.
“You think you can just show up and demand shit? You don’t scare me—” I started, my fist tightening, anger already running hot.
He cut me off with a laugh that wasn’t a laugh. “Oh, but you are scared, boy. I raised you. I know what fear looks like on you. You’ve always been the same pathetic little pussy who couldn’t protect a goddamn thing. Not yourself. Not your mother. Not your sister.”
He tilted his head. “Never got anything right… until now, I guess.”
A burn rushed up my spine, violent and stupid. “Leave my mom and sister out of your mouth. They’re getting away from you. Soon.”
He smiled like I’d told a cute joke. “Are they now? And who’s doing that for them? You?”
My jaw locked. I didn’t answer.
He took that silence like it was an invitation. “Tell you what. You give me what I want, and maybe I walk away. Maybe I let all of you keep breathing easy for a while.”
My voice dropped, tight and low. “What do you want?”
He breathed in, slow, savoring the moment. “Money. Your sign-up bonus. That little nest everyone’s talking about, now that you’re blowing up out there. Millions, right? Well, son—” his smile sharpened, “—I want my cut.”
I almost laughed. “Are you fucking serious? The season isn’t over. There is no bonus yet. I don’t have a dime.”
His face changed—not a big shift, but enough. The kind that used to mean someone’s getting hit.
“Oh, but I know who does have money,” he murmured. “The girl. The family. Your new little castle in the clouds. The Harts.”
He clicked his tongue. “They’ll pay to keep things pretty.”
A laugh ripped out of me, too close to a choke. “You want me to go to Lexie’s parents and ask them for money? Have you lost your mind?”
He stepped closer. I could taste the whiskey on his breath. “I don’t need you to ask. I can talk to them myself. I can show up tomorrow night, at that nice dinner they’re hosting. Tell them what a loving father I’ve been. Tell them what you owe me. Tell them what they’re buying.”
My stomach dropped. “You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t show up there and—”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His voice was almost gentle. “I will do whatever I need to. Unless you want your mother and sister somewhere safe.”
His smile flattened. “And tell me, Noah—who’s getting them out, if not you?”
Something inside me snapped. “You’re a fucking—”
The shove came out of nowhere. Not wild. Not emotional. Just practiced.
His hand hit my shoulder and I flew back into the dorm door, the wood slamming into my spine. Pain spiked through me, hot and blinding. I tasted blood—iron, stupid, humiliating.
He leaned in, voice a whisper.
“Watch your tone with me. You don’t want to find out what happens if I get angry.”
“Get off me,” I spat, lungs burning. “And you better stay the fuck away from Lexie and her family. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
He laughed then, a wet, dangerous sound. “No, you don’t know who you’re messing with. I know more than you think. I did my homework, boy. I know things you wouldn’t want anyone to put together. Especially your little bitch.” He looked like he was taking pleasure in saying the words.
I shook my head, a hysterical laugh escaping me. Blackmail now? Another one? “Go the fuck ahead,” I said, trying to look rougher than I felt. “I don’t give a shit.”
“Oh, son.” His voice softened like silk over steel. “Believe me. You do. I will see you tomorrow.”
He stepped back and walked away as if that final line hadn’t been a promise of ruin.
Some part of me wanted to scream. Another part wanted to curl up on the floor and let the world drown me. But the louder, steadier part—the one where I found my strength—took over.
If my dad showed up at that dinner, everything would burn. If I tried to go to Lexie’s family for help or advice, I’d be burying myself even deeper. I needed Aiden. I needed someone who could steady me.
I didn’t remember leaving the dorm. One second I was standing there in that hallway, and the next I was on my bike, the engine shaking beneath me like my hands. By the time I pulled into Aiden’s driveway, my chest felt too small for my lungs, like I couldn’t breathe right unless I saw him.
The house was dark. No lights. No sound. Just stillness settling over everything, heavy and quiet. I stepped inside with the key he’d given me. The familiar scent hit me immediately—warmth, cedar, something steady. It almost undid me right there.
I slipped off my shoes. Left my jacket on the chair. My steps softened without thinking as I moved down the hallway, drawn to the only place I wanted to be. My heart was pounding, not fast—just hard, like each beat was trying to break through my ribcage. Every part of me ached for him. For his hands. His voice. Just to feel held, even for a second.
I reached the bedroom door.