Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(74)

“Keira.” He said her name like a point of fact, not a question that told her he was surprised to see her. Then, sounding oddly relieved, he said it again. “Keira.”

“Hey.” She met him just in front of the door worried when Luka’s expression read hard and anxious. “Where’s Kona?”

Keira had never seen Luka when he didn’t have a wide, welcoming smile on his face. But he stood in front her, head moving between her and the door behind him with his mouth set in a harsh line. There was something in his eyes, some small glint that Keira understood to be concern, perhaps indecision. He finally exhaled and closed his eyes as though what he was about to say pained him. Instantly, Keira’s thoughts went back to Lucy’s and the angry scowl Luka carried on his face when he pointed Kona out across the bar. When Kona took a shot from the redhead’s cleavage.

“Tell me.” When Luka didn’t quite meet her eyes, she jerked on his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “Who is she?”

His fingers went through his hair. It was longer, wavier than Kona’s and Keira absently wondered if Luka kept his hair long to stand out from his brother.

“It’s not a girl.” He took Keira’s hand, threaded his fingers with hers and sighed. “You need to know and, Keira,” he looked at her then, eyes glassy. Luka’s voice shook, like he could keep control of his emotion. “I just…” he released her hand and rubbed his palms into his eyes and Keira caught his desperation, the weakened way his shoulders slumped. “I just can’t do this alone anymore. I need your help.”

“Luka, what…”

A nod toward the door and Luka rubbed his eyes again against his palms. “He’ll hate me for this. He never wanted you to see.” She opened her mouth, was determined to get an explanation, but Luka shook his head and moved his palm to the small of her back, urging her toward the door. “Go.”

At first, she didn’t see him. The lockers near the door were the same garish blue of the team colors, too bright, too in your face. A quick flash came to her then, brought her back to that first week of the semester and Kona in the showers naked and moaning. Luka was behind her, keeping his distance and when she looked at him, needing some direction he nodded beyond the lockers, to the row of benches in front of them.

She took four long steps, hurried, anxious, then stopped on her next half step. Kona stood with his back to her, his pants and pads on, but his chest bare, his jersey, shoulder pads and helmet were on the bench next to a black leather satchel with a row of silver topped, glass vials. The liquid in them was thin, tinged yellow.

Kona didn’t know she was watching him. He was too focused on the skin pinched between his fingers and the needle that sunk into his flesh.

Keira covered her mouth, fingers already shaking, and a swift weight of disappointment, of disgust and fear sank in her stomach. Steroids. That’s what this was about. That stupid, arrogant idiot she couldn’t stop kissing threatened everything offered to him with those damn vials. If he was caught, being off the team would the least of his worries. There would be no pro career. There would be no future for him in the game he loved so much. Worse still, he was killing himself to be the best. The disappointment she held was nothing compared to her anger and the growing dread of what he was doing to his body.

“You stupid, selfish idiot.”

Kona jerked around, dropping the syringe to the floor when he heard her, eyes rounded and terrified. “What the hell are you…” he stopped when Luka walked to Keira’s side and that small flash of fright completely morphed into rage as Kona’s top lipped curled. “You motherf*cker.”

Luka set his helmet on the bench in front of his brother, bending down to pick up the needle. “She has a right to know.” When he straightened, grabbed the leather satchel, Kona moved, slammed Luka right against the lockers.

“The hell she does! I told you to watch the door. You stupid *! I cannot believe you’d let her see!” Kona grabbed Luka’s jersey and his twin let him. He took what Kona gave him like it was an absolution, a punishment for being too weak to hide his brother’s sin. “Why would you let her see?”

“Because he’s worried about you.”

Keira’s voice had Kona dropping his hands from Luka’s jersey. He stared at her for a few seconds that felt weighted, that thickened the slap of tension in the room. “Keira,” he said, voice so low that she heard the warning in it. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t understand this so please,” he closed his eyes, as though tamping down the fuel of anger and betrayal that made his breath rough, “don’t you f*cking judge me.”

All these months and Kona still didn’t understand her. And Keira thought, as Luka picked up the satchel and stepped away from his brother, that there was still so much Kona would never understand about her.

“Luka, give me a minute, okay?” He didn’t acknowledge her, but Luka did grab his helmet and shoved the steroids in a locker just behind them—Keira assumed it was his own locker—before he left the room.

Kona watched her, gaze flicking to every movement she made; when she took a breath, when she crossed her arms and stepped back from him. Keira could smell the musky stench already drifting from his body. Sweat covered him, was on his forehead, sliding down his neck and chest and he hadn’t even made it to the field.