His grip tightens and tension practically vibrates off his flexed muscles. “You’re off the team.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I forbid you to see her again!”
“You can’t do that either.”
“I sure as hell can!”
The whiskey on his breath burns my eyes and his red face turns purple. I know from experience what comes next.
I brace for the hit that flies fast and knocks me to the floor. He follows me down landing solid blows to my jaw and torso. I let him get a few hits in until he knocks me in the temple and my vision tunnels. The world turns red and the tight control I keep on the violence dissolves.
I punch without thought of consequence. My stepdad’s face appears where coach’s used to be. I’m numb to his hits, blood wets my face and fists managing to spur on my furious swings. Commotion sounds around us, but I’m too drunk on bloodlust to give a fuck. The entire world could explode around me and I wouldn’t notice. Chaos. Frantic voices. A force much stronger than me wraps me from behind. I’m propelled up and away. Through my blurry vision I make out Carey’s face. His lips move too fast to understand and my own pulse in my ears makes it impossible to hear. I try to wipe the blood out of my eyes, but my arms are locked behind me in an unmovable grip.
Adrenaline seeps slowly from my veins and I drop my head forward as exhaustion weighs against me. Blood drips from my face to the carpet between my feet. I count them as they fall, one, two, three, four…holy shit, I just beat the fuck out of coach…five, six, seven…
“Spider, man, talk to me,” Carey says in a rush of growled words that finally make it to my ears. He presses a white washcloth to my head. “Come on, bro. Let me know you’re okay.”
I nod and pull at my arms. Carey looks over my shoulder at whoever is behind me and my arms are released. Stabbing pain zaps through my shoulders from being held so tightly at my back. I take over the cloth and meet Carey’s eyes. “I’m good.”
“Fuck.” His shoulders droop in relief and he guides me into our hotel room and sits me in a chair. “Doc Lenny is on his way. He had to run to the bus to get his—” He whirls around to the cluster of football players behind him. “Make sure Doc gets in here first!” Carey turns back to me and lightly taps my eyebrow. “He broke the skin on your eyebrow here, you’re probably going to need stitches.” His jaw gets hard and he shakes his head. “I can’t believe the motherfucker hit you. What the fuck happened?”
I spit blood onto the floor, feeling a wave of nausea roll through me. “He told me to stay away from Emery.”
Kaipo pulls up the other chair and leans over his legs to get a good look at me. “Not bad, cousin. You gave worse than you got.” He jumps out of his seat to give Doc room.
Doc Lenny squats in front of me. Just like on the field, he’s all business checking my vitals, asking me if I know the date and year. “Do you remember what happened?”
I chuckle and smile, knowing by the taste of copper on my tongue that my teeth are stained with blood from my split lip. “I remember.” And like every beating I’ve ever taken, I’ll never forget.
Chapter Twenty
Emery
“So that’s it? He just ordered you to come by the house on Sunday to talk things out?” Rowan shakes her head and sweeps the floor of the café with quick, angry strokes. “Boys are so bossy.”
I spray down a table and wipe it down, grateful I’m not facing her so she can’t see how tempted I am to do exactly what Theodore demanded.
I haven’t spoken to him in two days and it feels like I’ve been living without a vital organ. How is it possible to know him for so little time and yet feel like I can’t breathe when he’s not around?
“Are you going to do it? Meet with him and see what he has to say?” Rowan looks up from her sweeping.
I fold and unfold the wet rag in my hands, conflicted about how to answer. I’ve accepted that I miss Theodore with the desperation of a starved woman. But I am the wrong person for him, and—
She pulls her vibrating phone from her pocket. “It’s Carey.” She hits a button and presses it to her ear.
I go back to wiping tables grateful for the interruption.
“Hey! I wasn’t expecting you to call me until later tonight…what? How?” I hear the soles of her shoes squeak on the wood floor and then the door to the back room open and close.
I stare at the closed door with a twinge of unease, having never heard that kind of tension in her voice before.
The team is in Arizona for a game. I hope Carey is okay. Is he sick? Hurt?
Wiping down the tables closest to the door I focus on the low hum of Rowan’s voice but can’t pick up on any of her words.
The inflection of her voice is unmistakable. Something is very wrong.
Another minute passes before Rowan rejoins me in the café, her face screwed up in an unnatural smile.
My hands grip the rag tighter. “What?”
“What do you mean what? Nothing. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I narrow my eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay? What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Her right eye twitches and she balls her hands at her stomach.
Everything from my chin down goes tingly and numb and I try not to think the worst. “You are a horrible liar. Is Carey okay?”
“Yes, Carey’s fine.” She picks up the broom with quaking fingers.
If not Carey then who? My stomach bottoms out.
“It’s not a big deal—”
“I like you, Rowan. But what comes out of your mouth next could very
