Page 189 of Forever Relentless

I spent my morning improving Mike’s work with the sleds. I was getting a drink of water when I felt someone behind me. Turning, I saw Jason Moore.

“Yeah?”

He looked uneasy. “What did you do?”

“When?”

“Coach Sutherland told us to relax, to play ball, and focus on next season.”

“Sounds like good advice.”

He didn’t walk away. “When I asked Spence what that meant, he said to thank you.”

I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. “Okay. Good talk.” I moved away.

“Do I?”

I turned back to him. “Do you what?”

“Need to thank you?” He looked over his shoulder and saw Dustin watching us.

“No.” I gave him a small smile. “Best get back to training before we’re both running suicides.”

Moore nodded and ran off.

And that was how training went for the week. I helped coach Whittaker, and my roommates avoided me. Not with hostility. It was more careful than that — like they were still deciding how to be around me.

I knew it would be this way. They didn’t want me to ask forgiveness, and I wasn’t sure I had the right words even if they did. They may not have liked how it happened, but at the end of the day, the outcome was acceptable.

When I came out of the shower after practice, they would already be gone, and I’d head to class alone.

Classes didn’t distract me, even though they should have because finals were coming up, and I was determined to pass on my own merit. The thought that Coach Sutherland might need to ‘bump’ my grades up made me uneasy.

No. I was going to do this myself.

There was no after-class training now that the spring game was over. We had our spots, finals weren’t that far off, and it was time to focus on school again.

But as the week progressed, all I wanted to do was get to the gym and punch it out. I just wanted to spar.

I’d lost access to wheels, so I did what I should have done the first time. I took the bus to Halston.

The gym was quiet, but not empty.

I changed in the men’s bathrooms. It was all very well and good getting in a car with your workout clothes, but I’d worn sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a hoodie on the bus.

I spent some quality time with the punching bag, but it didn’t ease the tension in my bones. I saw the manager and nodded toward the ring; he nodded back.

We spent twenty minutes or so dancing around each other, getting a few hits in, and even that did nothing to satisfy the beast inside.

I exchanged some pleasantries with him, but when I left, I felt no better. I could phone and talk to Tate. But I’d already had him tell me how to word my contract with Sutherland. And he was worried after he’d learned what was happening. I didn’t need to add stress to my little brother’s shoulders.

When my phone rang, I truly didn’t expect to see the caller’s name on the screen.

I answered. “Mason?”

“How does it feel?” he asked, his voice neutral.

I’d expected to hear from him earlier; honestly, I thought I’d get a few swear words from him in a text. When I got nothing, I knew I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was.