Grayson's arm dug in harder, cutting him off before he could dig his grave deeper. “He is going to kill you for this. I’d watch your back.”
Fool. Sterling was a fool.
His friend was smart enough to reconsider his position. “Sterling, man, I think we should go.” He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the voices outside the tunnel getting closer. A fight had definitely broken out on the field. Sterling’s frat boys distracting Micah and Brock.
Her lips pursed, Josie asked the question that burned in all our minds. “Why don’t you tell us what it is you think Micah did?”
Sterling made a grunt of disgust in the back of his throat, glaring at Grayson. He didn’t struggle against my cousin’s restraint. In fact, I swore he enjoyed the pain. His lip curled in derision. This was a different side of Sterling, a side that elicited cold fear and made me want to run from him.
“What’s going on in here?” someone called from the opening of the tunnel.
It was one of the coaches. Heads whipped in the direction of the voice, but other than that, no one moved a muscle. Not even Grayson, who still had Sterling pinned to the wall.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” the coach informed us, scowling. “We’re clearing the stadium. It’s time to go.”
“We were just heading out,” Fynn assured him, shooting Grayson a silent message.
Grayson released Sterling, but not without one last shove.
The coach cleared his throat, sensing the tension that suffocated the tunnel. “Did any of you have something to do with the stunt that was pulled in the stands?” His focus went right to the president of Chi Sigma. “Sterling, this better not be one of your fraternity pranks.”
Sterling adjusted his shirt, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “Coach, I can assure you that my house wasn’t involved. You know what big supporters my family is of the football team.”
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but I also wanted to cry in frustration, because the coach looked as if he bought Sterling’s bullshit.Has everyone in KU drunk the Kool-Aid? What the fuck?
“Let’s go, Mads,” Josie said softly, draping her arm around me and lending me her steadiness as we left the tunnel of horror. Or it could have been. I didn’t want to think about what Sterling and his buddy would have done to me if Josie, Fynn, and Grayson hadn’t shown up.
“Micah?” I rasped, needing to see him. Through all the madness, he became the one thing I needed, the one thing my brain fixated on, and he was all I could think about.
My cousin steered me through the field. The air had lingering traces of smoke in it, reminding me of the bonfires my parents had back home. “I sent him a text and let him know we found you. We’re meeting back at the guys’ place,” she told me.
Grayson and Fynn flanked either side of Josie and me. Both had their jaws clamped, nothing friendly in their expressions.
“I need him.”
“I bet you do, honey.” She brushed strands of hair out of my face, and it felt good. Too good, like when Micah played with my hair. I didn’t want her to stop touching me and yet that felt wrong.
A whimper breezed through my lips. “There’s something wrong with me.”
Josie shared a look with Grayson, who gave her just the slightest shake of his head. “Micah will take care of you. Just hang on a little longer,” she said, trying to placate me.
“Why did I wear a bra?” I mumbled, my undergarments causing friction I had no right feeling in front of them, but a part of me also didn’t give a shit. “I’m so uncomfortable.”
“One of you needs to carry her. It’ll make this go a lot quicker,” Josie ordered.
Fynn checked his phone. “Micah isn’t going to like one of us touching her right now.”
“I don’t give a shit what he likes or doesn’t like. Mads needs us. The Elite protect what’s theirs. Is that not what you guys are always preaching?” Josie argued.
My feet did their best to keep up with her, but the extreme sensitivity of my body distracted me. The way the wind blew my hair, tickling my neck and back. The way my jean shorts rubbed as I walked. Every movement, no matter how small, became heightened and had taken over my thoughts.
“Fynn, you got this,” Grayson said, clapping him on the back.
Fynn cocked a brow at his friend.
“It’ll be weird if I do it,” Grayson defended. “We’re fucking related, and she’s too horny for me to deal with.”
“He’s going to kill me for this.” Fynn sighed as he scooped me up, cradling me in his strong arms.