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The big guy stumbles back. His posse catches him before his ass hits the floor. Then it’s on. Punches fly everywhere. I hate to pull Jason into the mix, but he throws his fair share of hits. At least, I think he is. It’s hard to tell in this chaos. One stooge picks up a chair. He raises it as if to hit Jason across the back. Fucking asshole. Fight like a damn man if you’re going to start something.
“Jason, watch your back.”
He turns and blocks the bigger blow. I turn to face my prick, and pain splinters across my left eye socket. The fucker got in one good punch. Rage takes over as I unload.
Police sirens wail in the background, growing louder, but I couldn’t care less. I’m tired of people telling me I’m not good enough. I’m tired of feeling inadequate. But most of all, no one will disrespect Cassie that way. This fucking asshole is getting what is due to him.
Chapter Eighteen
DALTON
“Jason Fowler.Dalton Boyd. You’re free to go.”
The buzzing sound reverberates off the block walls, along with the locks releasing. I push to my feet and wait for the door to slide open. Is this how my brother starts his mornings? I never thought about it from his perspective. But standing here confined in this small space, I can’t imagine. It’s a rather shitty feeling to start the day. Guilt seeps into my bones. Dad’s right. I’ve been rather selfish.
“How pissed do you think the coach is going to be?” Jason asks.
“Pissed beyond words.” But I can guess who he’ll direct that hatred toward. It won’t be the star pupil beside me. However misguided Coach’s anger will be, I’ll take it. I deserve it. I’m the one who screwed up and let my emotions control my actions. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. That disrespectful bastard got what he deserved for what he said about Cassie. There may have been a better way to handle it where I didn’t have to drag my teammate into my mess, but it was satisfying putting the prick in his place.
“I’m sorry, man. This is my fault. I was just trying to get you drunk so that you wouldn’t play well.” The mortification on his face rings true.
“I figured as much. Just our luck, the biggest asshole on the planet showed up.”
We reach the booking area and they shove the release papers in front of us. Once the forms are completed, we turn in the vouchers for our personal belongings.
“There must be bad blood between you guys by the way he ragged on you.”
“He slid in hard at second, taking out a teammate in the process. Fucker knew what he was doing. Luckily, nothing serious came of it, but he’s a dirty player. He wasn’t going to stop until I punched him.”And I walked right into that trap.
They hand us our personal belongings. I fish around the bottom of the bag and finally relax when my fingers land on Gramp’s ring. My mother’s dad had given it to me when he found out he didn’t have long on this earth.
A fifth of bourbon was drunk the night Dad found out. Dad thought Steve deserved the ring instead since he was the oldest. Dad made an ass of himself when he confronted Gramps drunk. That’s when Gramps told me to keep it in a safe space. I wondered at the time if I should call the ringPrecioussince it turned people into greedy monsters. It had already made Dad angry, and he wasn’t even wearing it.
The ring is made from hammered black zirconium with a center inset of black diamonds. I’m sure it’s valuable, but that’s not why I keep it close to me. Gramps had told me not to let anyone take it from me. And by anyone, he meant Dad. He wanted me to have something special. I think the old man knew what was going on in our house. I resented him for not stepping in but loved him for the normalcy he provided. He just didn’t stick around that long.
We finally make our way to Coach, who stands with his arms crossed. The glare he tosses our way makes my balls shrivel. His face is the deepest scarlet I’ve ever seen on anyone, and that includes my drunken father. He doesn’t speak a word as he pivots and heads outside. Jason and I exchange a look before following Coach out. The TikTok sound “I fucked up” plays through my head. The moment the night air touches our skin, he unloads.
“What were you doing in a bar?”
Jason shifts on his feet, clearly not speaking up.
“We were talking, sir,” I manage to say through the thickness in my voice. I doubt I can talk my way out of this mess. “I, uh, wanted to get to know him better so I can finish the report you asked for.”
Coach’s steely eyes glare at me with disappointment. Sweat breaks across my brow. He turns his attention back to Jason. “Is that true?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you drinking?”
“Yes, sir.” Jason’s voice cracks. He drops his gaze to the ground as if in shame. It was his idea to have the beers, which he conveniently leaves out.
“Let me get this straight.” Coach shifts his gaze back to me. Through gritted teeth, he asks, “You somehow finagled my player into a bar, ordered drinks, and got into a fistfight?”
It’s funny how he assumes I’m the one who instigated all this. Yes, I did want to talk, and I knew better than to go into the bar, but I’m not solely to blame. When will I ever make good choices?
“Yes, sir,” I say.
Jason’s eyes dart to mine, but I don’t pay him any attention. I’m too busy holding my own with Coach.
