As I reached his lower back, Austin lifted his head, tears glistening, and said, “I was never good enough for you, Pix. I’m trash; you’re gold. I ain’t having you brought into this piece of shit trash world I live in. You deserve more than me, more from life. So much f**kin’ more. I’ll only ever drag you down.”

I didn’t say anything in response. Austin moved beside me and, facing each other, he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over our bodies. We kissed, we held each other tight, and I don’t remember when it was I fell asleep. But I remember waking up to an empty room, feeling the void Austin’s absence had left.

As I stared into the dying embers of the fire, light, soothing hands began to massage my shoulders, and I felt myself relax.

Give yourself over to me, Lexington. Freely hand me the reins. I can make you feel better. I can give you control in your life where you currently have none. We’re almost at perfection, Lexington. Give yourself to me once and for all. Let us finally achieve our goal. Let us reach perfection…

Closing my eyes, I let the voice’s words seep into my mind. It was always there for me. Always making me feel wanted, giving me a purpose.

As though a breeze swooped up and carried away all my fight, I felt myself relax and whispered to the silent room, “Take what you want. Make me perfect. I give myself freely. I just haven’t got the strength to fight you anymore…”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Austin

BCS National Championship

Rose Bowl Stadium, Pasadena, California

“Fuck, Carillo! We did it!” Rome shouted as he ran my way after scoring the game-winning touchdown against Notre Dame.

“You did it, Bullet! First-round draft for sure!” I replied, truly excited for my best friend. With what him and his girl had been through over the last few months, the brother deserved it.

Rome’s forehead pressed to mine, and he said, “Both of us, Carillo, we’re both getting the f**k out of this place and starting new lives.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything in response. Rome tapped me on the cheek, then put all his attention on his girl in the stands. Molly had returned just before the game, after weeks of no word. She had come back to Rome, to Bama, and I’d never seen Rome play so well in my whole life.

Like a magnet was pulling at my back, I turned my head to gaze across the field behind me, and there, through the parting of the crowd, was Pix, her eyes fixed on mine. Un piccolo folleto oscuro, I thought… a little dark pixie.

I felt an overwhelming sense of nausea roll through my stomach as I saw the shedding pain shining in her eyes. She looked so tiny in her Crimson Tide uniform, gripping white pompoms in her hands, her black hair perfectly curled and her scarlet lips and kohl-rimmed eyes routinely in place. That’s when I noticed the slenderness of her arms, of her legs. Lexi immediately covered her chest with her arms, and her eyes grew blank and stared at the grass.

Shit.

I moved to go toward her, when her chin snapped up and she slowly shook her head. That action had me stilling, and before I knew it, Lyle came to where she stood, and like an Oscar winning actress, she became that fake persona, became what everyone else knew her to be: peppy and fun-loving Lexi. It killed me to see it, knowing the real beauty of the person she always hid.

I watched as she placed a kiss on Lyle’s cheek, then sprinted to Molly in the stands, where Molly immediately wrapped Lexi in her arms. I caught Lexi stiffen, but again, no one else seemed to notice.

Were they all so f**kin’ blind that their best friend was losing it? But then I saw Cass and the intensely worried look on her face. Thank f**k, someone else was concerned. I could tell by her stern face, and her knowing look to Ally, that they were onto my girl.

The commentator moved to the mic, and it was time for the trophy presentation. Taking a deep breath, I moved to the stage and tried to seem proud.

Another pretender to add to the field.

National Championship Homecoming Party

Tuscaloosa, Alabama

The party was in full swing, and after a full-day homecoming parade through the streets of Tuscaloosa, proudly showing the trophy, we were back at the frat house, celebrating the win. The place was overflowing with students f**ked off their faces on liquor… and for many, something more.

As I scanned the party, I took a swig of my Peroni, checking no campus cops had come on the grounds and that the dean was nowhere in sight.

Nothing, that was good.

Hearing a cough behind me, I turned to see some freshman kid looking nervous, his eyes darting all over the place.

“What?” I asked curtly.

“Been told to see you about getting something to party with.”

Checking we weren’t being watched, I said, “What you after?”

“E, coke, don’t matter.” He shrugged.

“Summerhouse, over there, behind the trees.” I flicked my chin in the direction he needed to go.

The kid’s eyes widened with excitement, and just as he went to walk away, I grabbed his arm. “Don’t be telling no one who sold you that shit.” I tapped the stidda on my cheek, and the kid just gulped.

“H-Heighters?” he whispered and pretty much shit himself on the spot. I nodded slowly, and, ducking his head, he muttered, “I won’t, Carillo. I won’t say a thing.”

I watched him disappear from view and knew Axel would be loving this volume of trade. The coin we were making tonight would be enough for my mamma to see out the rest of her days the right way, but I f**kin’ hated doing this shit on my turf, with my teammates all around.