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Oz
I LEAN DOWN and I’m eye to eye with one of the craziest sons-of-bitches on the planet. Sweat drenches my T-shirt thanks to the muggy night. Razor’s jaw swells from the last play and my hand throbs from a hit I took from him a few series back. Blood drips from each scrape on my body and I chuckle when he wipes at the small trickle of red at the corner of his mouth.
A sharp gust rushes through the trees of the forest surrounding the property, bringing with it the smell of honeysuckle. The branches bend and the leaves flip back to show their white underbelly. A few stars twinkle overhead through the racing clouds, but the wind warns of an impending storm.
Razor’s golden-blond hair falls over his eyes and being on the opposite side of the line from him would cause most men to shiver. A slow sadistic grin promising pain slides across his face. “You think you can handle me, Oz?”
“I think you’re all talk.” I think Razor could easily slit my throat with that knife strapped to his leg, and he wouldn’t shed a single tear as he witnessed me bleed out. Because we’ve been close since we were kids, I gamble that he’ll keep his knife and his impulsive tendencies to himself.
“I’m man enough to take you down,” he taunts.
“Nah,” I answer. “I don’t think you are.”
His insane smile widens. “Know what happened when I used to walk into the shower in the locker room at school?”
Knowing he’s a crazy bastard, guys tripped over themselves to get the hell out of his way. “What?”
He winks. “They took one look at me and applauded.”
I snort and when Chevy calls the snap, I have to switch gears and throw myself at Razor to stop him from tackling my best friend before Chevy throws the ball.
“Touchdown!” Chevy calls, but Razor rages forward. I dig my feet into the ground, determined not to allow him an inch. With muscles locked tight, I break through his arms and push off his chest, causing him to stumble.
Razor’s eyes glaze over and he’s a bull seeing red. His arm swings back with a ready-made fist. Not noticing how Razor just lost his shit, Chevy slips between us. I grab Chevy and toss him to the side and yell, “Chevy said touchdown, bitch.”
Razor blinks, and the horror mirrored there as he realizes he was two seconds from pile driving me and Chevy causes me to ache for my longtime friend.
Chevy offers Razor his fist and with a deep breath Razor shakes off Mr. Hyde for Dr. Jekyll.
Regret deepens the already constant pain in Razor’s eyes and instead of bumping Chevy’s fist, he holds out his hand for a shake. Chevy accepts and the two end up in a brief half hug. Razor’s haunted by a hurt too deep to understand. His mother messed him up in ways that none of us can begin to know how to heal, and because of that, we’ll always have his back.
When they let go, Razor nods at me. I nod back. The all clear that we’re good.
Razor picks up the football, taps Stone on the back and pitches the ball in the air. “Let’s work on your catching.”
Stone reaches out his hands and the ball soars straight through. Chevy turns his head to hide the wince. I school my expression but internally feel the pain. Olivia used to read a book to me when I was a kid about a lion that was a late bloomer. I sure as hell hope that fifteen will be Stone’s bloom year because, for him, fourteen ain’t doing shit.
Not missing a beat, Razor swipes the ball and leads Stone away from the guys shooting the breeze. A few light cigarettes and laugh loudly. Everyone’s roughed up and bleeding. The game’s more tackle than two-hand touch and that’s the way we like it.
We’re in the large grassy area between Olivia’s house and the clubhouse. Thanks to the utility poles, we can play football all night and typically we do, but this summer, my ass has been on Emily patrol.
I lift my shirt and remove the blood from my lip and when I glance over to the porch to check on Emily, she quickly looks away and slides that long dark hair forward like a shield. She’s playing cards with Olivia on the porch and even though she’s dealing, I will her to peek at me one more time.
Eli’s gone again and so is most of the club as they’ve been traveling for the business. He was here for a few days and was stuck to Emily’s side and now he’s on the road and I’m back on duty.
Everyone was banned from here when Eli was away the first time. Now, with him gone again, anyone who is a brother is allowed to come and go, but there’s no partying, no old ladies, no friends of the club, no hang-arounds and above all, no strangers.
All of it is to protect Emily. The slow introduction, according to Eli, is to desensitize her to the way things really work around here.
Chevy kicks at the back of my knee and I sock him in the shoulder. “What was that for?”
“For staring at Emily like you’re three seconds away from showing her the back of the clubhouse and sharing dirty secrets. You do that with Eli around and you can forget making prospect. He’ll put a bullet in your brain.” He mimics his finger as the gun, pulls the mock trigger, then stumbles with the imagined impact.
I shrug even though I know he’s right. “She’s hot.”
“That’s sick. She’s my cousin.”
I don’t mention how Violet was like a sister to me and how Chevy buying condoms six months ago when he was solid with her made me want to vomit. If he didn’t love her, I would have torn out his jugular.
