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Giving him the biggest smile I can, I turn on my heel.
And then before I can take a step, something goes over my head, flashing in front of my eyes.
Whatever it is presses against my throat as Syn pulls it tight. I stumble backward, my hands grabbing at the cold metal around my neck as I fall back against his chest.
“What are you doing?” I yelp, clawing at what feels like a chain.
“I didn’t say you were dismissed,” Syn hisses in my ear. “Stop moving or you’ll just make it tighter.”
Against every instinct I have, I freeze.
“Good. Now keep those hands where they are.”
My hands are wrapped around the chain, so his words don’t make sense to me. Shouldn’t he be telling me to let go?
But it’s Syn that let’s go, taking a step back.
Somehow, I keep my hands where they are, and I feel the pressure as the ends fall against my hair, but nothing more.
Closing my eyes, I fight to bring my panic under control. I’m not sure what’s happening, and there are tears trying to escape from the corner of my eyes. I want to run, but I don’t dare.
Syn is doing something behind me, and then as I hear metal on metal, the chain in my hand grows heavier. The chain grows tighter, but it’s not enough to stop me breathing.
“Let go,” Syn says.
I’ve been holding the chain so tightly that it seems to stick to my hands, but I slowly let go. The chain doesn’t fall, and it feels like Syn is still holding onto it behind me.
“Turn around.”
My heart is racing. I turn on the spot, but Syn doesn’t move. When I’m facing him again, I realize he is still holding onto the chain, his fist, just below my chin.
Slowly, he releases his grip and the tension eases, but as he lowers his hand, more chain feeds through it. When I look down, I see a few inches of metal, like a leash.
“What is this?” I ask.
Syn raises his eyes from his hand to meet mine. He rotates his wrist, wrapping the chain around his fist. And as he does so, the chain around my neck gets tighter. “Dogs that cannot behave get special collars. And this one doesn’t come off.”
He lets go, the end falling against my chest.
The urge to run is so great that I almost fall to the floor as I fight to stay where I am.
“You’re dismissed.” As though I’ve suddenly become invisible, he walks past me.
XIV
Royal
The amount of effort I’m putting into day one of training is way more than needed. JKU is not a sports college. No scouts are coming to see us, and no one on the team needs them too.
The closest some of the guys will get to basketball is being a team’s lawyer. We’ll win our games regardless of how well we play, because that kind of thing looks good on paper.
There was a time when that bothered me. That, regardless of my skill—and I’m not actually that bad—the outcome is predetermined.
But so is everything else in my life.
Except for the effort I put in.
And it’s not because I want to finish the season knowing I played the best that I could, but because the more time I spend in the gym, the less time I spend around Tori.
