“We have a game on Friday. You guys better get it together,” Coach demanded. “Leave your shit off the field. I don’t care about your drama or your girl problems. Not when we are here. Hell, I don’t even want to know when we’re not in uniform.”
A few of the players snickered, including Micah. “Got that, Patterson?” he sneered.
“Fuck off, Bradford,” Carter snarled back.
“Enough!” Coach Q warned. “Get back into the game.”
Despite the coach’s warning, the jabs continued. Coach called practice early after Grayson took a hit that sent his helmet spiraling across the ground and earned him a split lip. That was how players ended up with concussions.
Jumping up from the bleachers, I hustled toward Grayson, only to stop short at the sight of Carter. He noticed me and sneered.
Grayson shoulder-checked Carter as he brushed past him. “I catch your eyes on her again, I’ll crack more than your ribs,” Grayson’s dark voice threatened.
“I was just admiring my handiwork. It looks like it hurts,” Carter replied, a man who had a death wish.
“Bastard,” I cursed under my breath, and then Carter was flat on his back, Grayson looming over him.
The whistle blew long and hard over the field.
I winced.
“What the hell was in the lunch today? The two of you just earned yourself Saturdays,” Coach Q barked, his face turning ten different shades of red.
Well, damn. Saturday detention should be all kinds of fucking interesting. Might as well make it a party.
Chapter Seven
“What the fuck was that?” I asked as Brock steered the Range Rover out of the school parking lot.
Brock shrugged. His damp hair smelled like shampoo from a quick shower in the locker room. “Just some friendly competition.”
I made a disbelieving sound. “Uh-huh. I call bullshit.”
“He needed to be reminded who owns this school. If he steps out of line, there are consequences,” he said, his voice rough.
Shifting slightly in the seat, I angled toward him. “Don’t you ever get tired of keeping everyone in line? Being the guy who calls the shots?”
His gaze flicked off the road for a second to glance at me. “Honestly, this is my life. Has been for a long time. I wouldn’t know how to be any different.”
I could understand that to a degree. When you don’t know anything else, it doesn’t seem unusual. “These last few months have just been so surreal to me. Some days I wake up and can’t believe this is my life.”
“It won’t always be like this,” he assured.
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
He grinned.
The SUV ran over a bump in the road, jostling me in my seat. “Grayson told me what’s on the thumb drive.”
Brock liked to drive fast. And now was no exception. His foot hit the gas and the engine roared. “I know.”
My fingers tightened on the seat belt strap, yet I wasn’t worried Brock would crash. Despite everything, I trusted him with my life. “You can’t let Carter get his hands on it. God knows what he would do with that magnitude of information. The lives he would destroy.”
His expression went grim. “Carter only cares about saving his own ass.”
“He will use me to get it. I don’t know what he planned, but it’s not good, Brock.” Traces of the nervousness I felt leaked into my voice.
“We’re expecting him to do just that. And we’ll be ready for him.”