Playing for More (Love on the Court - Book #1)

34. Trust is a fickle bitch

A/N: Sorry guys I was a little under the weather :(

CARTER

🏀

We lost.

Damn it, we fucking lost.

I mean, losses happen, right? It's part of the game. But seeing my father in the crowd, I know what's coming next. An earful of disappointment, the kind that cuts deeper than any defeat on the court. I shouldn't care.

I tell myself I don't. But the truth is, I want to tell him to go screw himself. People lose—it happens.

It happens.

So, am I mad because my father's going to be pissed, or am I mad because we lost? This was supposed to be an easy game. We shouldn't have lost. No, no, I'm not letting my dad's voice get in my head. Losses happen. It's fine.

Except, my ego is bruised, and it stings.

And then there's Addie, sitting in the stands, watching me lose. Great game to show your girlfriend, right?

Even if I don't want to admit it, shame weighs heavy on my shoulders. That's why I'm still standing in the shower, the water now running cold. I know when I step out, my teammates will be long gone.

Probably assuming I've got plans with Addie. Well, I sort of do. Unspoken plans.

I hang my head in defeat and turn off the water. Pausing for a beat, I allow myself to wonder. What if there was no deal? What if my mother was healthy? What if... I chuckle bitterly. Is there even a point to these what-ifs? No, there isn't.

There are no what-ifs in my life.

Wanting it all, and having it all, is just exhausting.

I grab the towel hanging over the wall, wrap it around my waist, and push the curtain aside. Shaking my wet locks, I start to dry off.

"Is this who you are now, a loser?"

My blood runs cold in my veins. It's my father.

Dropping my hand to my side, I meet his gaze. He stands there with his arms crossed, the quintessential disappointed father. Not that I've ever seen him smile anyway.

"Anything else?" I reply, regaining my composure and walking past him.

"It's that girl."

Here we go again.

"The one you said you weren't going to see anymore."

"Things change, I guess," I mutter with my back turned. I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to punch him in the face.

"Is this your little rebellion, Carter? Haven't you had enough of that?"

The bastard threatened Addison. Threatens me daily. I want to let my rage blind me, but in a rare moment of clarity, I realize... he's not being aggressive about this. Condescending, sure? Acting disappointed, of course.

But he's not threatening. Which only proves one thing. He's scared.

"I like Addison."

"She's trying to manipulate you."

I chuckle. "That's rich coming from you."

"I'm looking out for you."

I slam the metal locker door shut and spin around to meet his eyes. "Seriously? Is that what you call it?"

He shrugs, unaffected. As if I'm the irrational one. The son of a bitch is a master of manipulation.

"Is your mother still alive because of my money? Is anyone else helping you? No. I'm the reason your mother has lasted this long. I can cut off the rest of the time you have with her."