Even if he had to wait forever.
42
Chapter 42 - Nick
Nick’s first task after arriving in L.A. and meeting the team was to bond with his teammates. They had dinner, played around on the court, and welcomed Nick like he’d always been one of them.
Leaving didn’t come easy. The team wanted an explanation, so Nick told them simply that someone had threatened what was his and he had business to handle. They all supported his decision and not only encouraged him to go, but helped him get a quick flight.
Less than twelve hours later, Nick was back in Miami.
His first stop was by the gym Harrison frequented because Nick saw him posting a selfie at the gym not even an hour earlier. It was late, after ten, but Nick saw Harrison as soon as he walked through the door. He was running on a treadmill, which Nick walked up behind.
“Hey.”
Harrison glanced over his shoulder, and when he saw Nick, all the color drained from his face. He killed the treadmill and stepped off it, and onto the one next to him in a laughable attempt to put some distance between them.
“What the fuck?” Harrison hissed, rushing off the treadmill and backing up a few steps.
“Damn. You scared?”
“The fuck are you doing here, Nick?”
“I think you know.” Nick tilted his head, seeing the fierce glare directed at him from Harrison for what it was—a front, something to mask his fear even if only a little. “You can step outside so we can talk about it, or I can drag your ass out.”
“You wouldn’t…” Nick took a step toward him, and Harrison backed up another step. “Alright, chill! I’m going.”
When they were outside, Harrison keeping himself facing Nick, he started stammering.
“L-listen, I don’t know what Reece told you—”
Nick grabbed him by the throat and slammed him back against the wall of the gym. “I know what you did. Not surprised coming from a bitch like you.”
Harrison couldn’t speak with Nick choking him. There was nothing Nick needed to hear from him anyway. He just needed Harrison to listen.
“Don’t think for one second that I’ll ever be too busy to pull up on your ass. You really thought you were safe to touch him again just because I was in a different state…”
Nick released his throat, and Harrison’s hands replaced them, the bastard gasping for air and coughing violently. Nick yanked him by his shirt away from the wall so he had to straighten himself, but Harrison did so on wobbly legs, a pleading look in his eyes. He held up a hand as if he’d be able to wave Nick down.
“Reece will never be yours, no matter how bad you fuckin’ want him,” Nick said, spitting at Harrison’s feet. “He’s mine. Whether I’m here in Miami, in L.A., or anywhere fuckin’ else. So you keep your ass away from him. You see him, you walk the other goddamn way. Do you understand me?”
“I got it,” Harrison said, body and voice trembling. “I’ll never touch him again.”
“And?”
“And… What? I won’t do anything! I won’t even talk to him.”
“Or look at him.”
“Whatever! Just fuck off already. I don’t know why you even care!”
Nick took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and smiled. “Because I love him.”
One punch and Harrison was slumped on the sidewalk, out cold. Nick didn’t even hit him as hard as he could. He’d never be able to let out all his pent-up rage on Harrison without doing more damage than it was worth.
Because he wouldn’t go to jail and fuck up his NBA career.
He wouldn’t go to jail and have Reece out of his reach.
