Chapter 94: Don’t hate me
Kayden
The walk to the car was a nightmare. Rhys was usually the one in control, the one who was always there to support me, but now, he was nothing but dead weight. As soon as we walked out the back door to the alley, something in him shifted from somber to manic.
"Kayden... my Kayden," he mumbled, his voice thick and slurred.
I groaned, waiting for the bartender to meet us in the alley with the Ferrari.
Rhys shifted in my arms, burrowing into me. He turned his head and buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I felt the hot, wet press of his lips against my skin as he started kissing my neck. It was a messy, desperate, uncoordinated series of kisses that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my chest, but I knew he was not in the right mind to be doing that—especially out in public.
"Rhys, stop! We are in public," I hissed, trying to keep us both upright as he stumbled.
Rhys didn’t listen; instead, he let out a loud, booming laugh that echoed off the brick walls of the alley.
It was a loud, hollow sound I had hoped wouldn’t draw attention to our side. He stopped kissing my neck and pulled back just enough to look at me, a lopsided, drunken grin on his face before leaning in to kiss my jaw and my cheek over and over again. "Oh goodness, you are so beautiful," he laughed, his eyes bright and unfocused. "Did I ever tell you that? That you are the best thing... the only good thing..."
His words were cut short by the headlights shining at us in the alley. The bartender stepped out of the Ferrari and handed me the keys.
"Thank you," I told him, and he just smiled before walking away.
"Get in the car, Rhys," I exhaled, managing to open the passenger door.
I practically shoved Rhys onto the leather seat because he wouldn’t let go of me. He went down with another laugh, his head hitting the headrest with a thud.
I leaned over him to pull the seatbelt across his chest, my face inches from his, and the smell of high-end whiskey was overpowering.
I pulled back, looking at him in frustration. "Why the hell are you drinking like this, Rhys? You are the Captain! We have a game in two days! What the hell happened with your grandfather?"
The laughter from him died instantly. It was like a candle being blown out in a dark room. The grin on his face vanished, replaced by a mask of pure agony. His lower lip trembled for a split second, and then he just... broke.
A choked sob ripped out of his throat, then another. Before I could even react, Rhys burst into tears. He sobbed so hard that it shook his entire frame. He curled into himself in the expensive Ferrari seat, burying his face in his hands as he wailed.
My heart shattered as I stared at him. I had seen him angry, seen him arrogant, seen him protective, and even seen him tired before at his grandfather’s birthday, but it wasn’t like this.
Rhys looked like a man who had just watched his entire world go up in flames.
"Rhys... hey, look at me," I whispered, reaching out to touch his shaking shoulder.
"I am sorry," he gasped between heaving breaths, his voice wrecked from crying. "I am so sorry, Kayden. I can’t... I can’t protect you like I wanted to. Please don’t hate me if I am unable to... if I can’t..." he sobbed.
I heaved a deep sigh as I went to the other side and climbed into the driver’s seat. Then I leaned toward him. "Rhys, please, what is happening to you? What did Rami say to you?"
Rhys gave no response and turned his head toward the window, but he wasn’t looking at the street. Instead, his eyes were squeezed shut and tears were streaming down his face in hot, messy tracks, soaking into the collar of his jersey.
"Hey!" I pleaded, my own eyes stinging. I couldn’t bear to see him like that. I gripped his shoulder, trying to pull him back toward me, but he didn’t even budge. "Rhys, look at me! Is this about the game? If—"
"It’s not about the game!" he suddenly screamed, and the sound made me flinch. "Although I wish it were!"
Rhys sat up abruptly, his face red and wet as he turned to face me with his eyes so full of despair it felt like a pressing weight on my chest. "It’s not about the fucking game, Kayden."
He reached out, his fingers digging into my shirt, pulling me toward him until our faces were inches apart. His breath smelled of heavy whiskey and his eyes were wild, darting over my face as if he were seeing me for the first time.
"I don’t know what to do," he sobbed, his voice dropping to a broken whisper.
A fresh wave of tears spilled over his face in a way that looked actually painful, and he let out a shuddering moan and buried his face in my chest, his shoulders shaking so violently I thought the seat might break.
Tears welled up in my own eyes, but I didn’t know what to do. I just held him, wrapping my arms around his head and shoulders, pulling him as close as the car interior would allow.
A few minutes later, I was driving out of the alley, but I didn’t take him back to the penthouse. Not yet. I couldn’t bring him into the quiet, stifling apartment. Instead, I drove toward the coast and parked on a secluded cliffside overlooking the sea.
"I brought you to the sea," I told him as I stopped the car. "Since you loved the lake at Lake City and called it your solace, I believed that you would find this place interesting, too," I informed him, rolling down the windows in hopes the breeze would sober him up even just a little.
Rhys said nothing, and for a long time, we just sat there. He had stopped the violent sobbing, but he remained slumped against the door, his eyes fixed on the vast black expanse of the ocean. Above us, the stars were scattered across the sky like spilled diamonds.
"Rhys," I whispered after a moment of silence. "Talk to me. What happened to you?"
Rhys didn’t move for a long minute, then he let out a hollow breath and slowly turned his head to look at me.
"I don’t want to talk about it," he rasped, his voice sounding like he had swallowed glass. "Not yet. If I say it out loud, it will make it real."
I understood him immediately and decided to change the topic. "Rhys, look," I whispered, trying to keep my voice light. "Those three stars in a row—what are they called? Since you know so much about this stuff, I want to hear from you."
I mentioned the stars, hoping it would console him at least until he was ready to tell me what was happening.
Rhys let out a shaky breath and then pointed his finger toward the sky. "That’s Orion’s Belt," he rasped, leaning his head against the window frame and tracing the constellations with his finger. "And over there... that’s Sirius. The brightest one. From the little memory I have of my mother, she used to say that no matter how lost you are, the stars don’t move. They stay exactly where they are supposed to be."
He fell silent again, but this time it wasn’t a cold silence. Then he turned his head away from the window, looking at me.
"Kayden," he said, his voice dropping to a desperate, solemn tone. "There’s going to be a lot of noise soon. My grandfather... the league... even I may become indifferent towards you. I am going to have to do things you won’t understand, but when you hear it—when you hear anything about me—I just hope you won’t hate me."
Tears welled up in my eyes at his words.
He was talking like he was already saying goodbye or about to become someone else, but I didn’t care about that because I always knew Rhys had good in him. I reached across the center console and pulled him into my arms.
"I could never hate you," I said fiercely, burying my face in his neck and holding him as tight as I could. "No matter what they say, no matter what happens, I will continue to be here with you, Rhys."
I felt his hands clutch the back of my neck, his fingers trembling as he clung to me like a drowning man. He didn’t say anything else; he just buried his face in my shoulder, and that told me everything I needed to know.
What we had might not end like I had imagined.