Page 36 of We're All Liars

Topher lets out a hoot. “I think they should maybe make a pit stop in the bathroom before going straight to your office.”

I can’t even with him right now. Topher is the one who should be sitting there but I know he’ll never turn himself in or get caught. And Ferguson will have to suspend us all because we’re going down as a team one way or another. Not to mention, I’m not leaving Morgan’s side today. So, getting off this bus and allowing her to go alone with her father is not going to happen.

She resumes her quiet contemplation as the bus finally starts up and heads out of the Saint Juliet lot. We’re only a few miles from the field, and even with traffic, we’ll be there too soon. I’m not ready for any of what is going down today.

“Our first bus ride on here was enjoyable.” I lean over toward her. “I wouldn’t mind a repeat.”

“I’m not giving you a blow job, I just said that to my father to piss him off.”

“Okay. That’s not what happened during the other bus ride and not what I was expecting to happen on this one.” When she turns to me, I grasp her hip and pull her on top of me. “I think a little stress relief will do you some good.”

I start to slip my hand under her skirt, but she climbs off me. “Not in the mood.”

That’s a first. Especially since I’m more than willing to put a show on in public. “Morgan.” I wait until she looks at me before I tell her, “We will get through this together.”

“Yeah,” she utters and looks back at the window. I reach over, grab her hand, and clasp it to me as she adds, “I can’t wait until it’s all over.”

I’m ready for the “over” part but am scared to death of the steps leading there. The plan is as solid as possible, but Morgan is a rogue, unpredictable factor that can’t be controlled any more than the weather.

32

MORGAN

The Dome is packed, which is wild considering it’s a high school game. But these people take this stupid sport as seriously as my father. Or at least as seriously as I thought he did. Now he’s ready to throw everything down the drain, quit on his entire team and what he bitched about all season, so he can win another way.

They’ve added some extra spectacles to the pregame, so it’s nearly an hour later than normal when the game starts. Halftime is even more extra with all the fluff. But what really concerns me is the amount of time Cade has been on the field. It seems like every time he gets out there, he hardly has the ball for ten seconds before the Trojans get it back.

By the fourth quarter, the score is tied. The first snap he gets back on the field, a flag is thrown for false start on Saint Juliet. But I didn’t see shit; no one jumped the line. The Wildcats actually get the first down and start moving the ball after that. When Cade throws a pass, Topher catches it, coming down in the end zone. The stadium erupts in cheers until there’s a flag thrown. The ref signals that Topher didn’t have possession of the ball. The pass was incomplete. No touchdown.

And that’s when it hits me. Dad always has a backup plan. The refs… he must have paid them off. A few blown calls can change the entire trajectory of a game. And they’re doing it. The next pass is thrown to Smith, but he’s unable to make the catch. The Trojan defensive player in his all over him while looking back to Cade. It’s a textbook pass interference call, yet no flag is thrown. The crowd voices their displeasure throughout the stadium.

“Humph. That’s not the first time that penalty was missed on this field,” Ava says, clearly aware that the call was blown.

The remainder of the game goes about the same. But when the Trojan’s defensive tackle aims low for Cade’s bad knee and a roughing-the-passer call isn’t made, I’ve had enough.

He’s on the sideline, dropping onto the bench as the trainer kneels in front of him to look at his knee. “It’s fine. He barely clipped me,” Cade tells him.

“Bullshit,” I say. “Just quit. It’s not worth it.” And he knows I don’t mean the game. I’m telling him to lose and let my dad win.

“I’m fine, Morgan,” he seethes before ignoring me as Dad approaches.

“Get back to your squad, Morgan. We need to concentrate.”

“No. You need to stop taking cheap shots at your own players.” I shouldn’t have said it, but I had to. It’s a fucking game. And he’s willing to risk Cade’s well-being, but should that really surprise me? He’s willing to end my life for a royalty check.

Cade doesn’t heed my advice and is back on the field the next opportunity he gets. But it doesn’t make a difference. Our offense is stopped. Trojans take the field and are able to score a field goal to put them in the lead. I know it’s over even before the last few seconds tick off the clock.

Wildcats lose. Why does that bother me? Maybe it’s not the losing part but the way Cade stands. He appears defeated, like he’s let everyone down. Like he’s let me down. But he hasn’t. He actually tried. And no matter what, we’ll find a way out of this mess.

33

CADE

We lost. How did this happen? Well, several ways. The refs were bought. The other team knew my knee was my weakness for sure. So, I don’t know what the outcome would’ve been had all things been equal, but it’s fucking obvious no matter how well we played, one way or another we weren’t going to win that game.

The last time I spotted Morgan, she was running off the bus after giving me a kiss that felt more like pity than anything. She said she was going to find Ryder and would meet me back by my truck. Only, it’s Ryder who’s running up to me—without Morgan.

“Where’s your sister?”