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“Why?” I can’t stop myself from asking.
He shrugs. “Call me crazy, but I don’t think you did this.”
I breathe out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It feels so fucking good to hear someone that’s not family say they believe me.
“I didn’t,” I tell him, in case he needs to hear the words straight from me. “I’ve fucked a lot of women, I won’t deny that, but I never touched her.”
He nods like that’s enough for him. “Coach doesn’t think you did it, either. He yells at anyone that says anything bad about you.” I smile at that. “He sent me to help you.”
I snort. “Help me? I don’t think anyone can do anything to help me.” At this point the only person that can help me is myself and my sister—and we’re working on it, day by day. I just wish it wasn’t taking so fucking long.
Michael shrugs and raises his hands innocently. “Hey, I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Has Coach talked to Matthews?” I ask.
Michael shakes his head. “Don’t think so. If he did, I think he’d try to kill the bastard.” Michael clears his throat and sobers. “I know you’re getting a lot of hate right now.” Understatement of the century, considering I can’t leave my house without having things thrown at me and being called names. “But there are still people out there that believe in you.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Bennett …” Sabrina says softly, appearing from the guestroom. She’s been staying here and working from her laptop, while also helping me in any way she can. She’s a fucking saint and the best sister anyone could ask for. “Have you seen this?”
My brows furrow together. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.” She starts to disappear back down the hall but I know something is up. Matthews has probably come out saying his daughter’s pregnant now with my demon offspring and it’s going to eat its way out of her vagina and kill her—anything to make people feel sorrier for him.
I jump up and hop over the back of her couch, stealing her phone from her hand.
“Hey,” she protests weakly, trying to grab it.
It’s too late, though. I’ve already seen and it’s like someone stabbed a knife in my heart and twisted it. It’s picture of Grace at some club and she’s dancing with that douchebag Tanner.
I think I’ve finally found someone I hate more than Coach Matthews.
I lift the phone, ready slam it in the wall but Sabrina grabs it from my hand. “Don’t even think about it,” she warns. “That’s my phone.” She holds tightly to the phone in case there’s any chance of me swiping it and breaking it out of spite. “There’s more,” she says even softer than before.
“What?” I bite out, thinking she’s going to give me more bad news about Grace. My thoughts are running rampant, imagining her fucking Tanner in a closet in the club.
“Greg Paulson agreed to meet with us.” All the air whooshes out of my lungs. Greg Paulson, the team captain for the Hunters, and the player I caught Matthews giving steroids to. If he has a bone to pick with Matthews the way I do then maybe, just maybe, we can take the asshat down once and for all.
“When?” I ask, daring to hope for the first time in over a month.
“Tomorrow.”
I breathe out. Soon. This could all be over in the next week.
Sabrina heads back to her room, probably to do research, and Michael whistles.
“Damn, who was that? She’s hot.”
I stride over to the couch and smack the back of his head. “My sister.”
“Fuck,” he says.
“Yeah, fuck,” I agree. Sitting down beside him. “I have another guestroom. You wanna stay?” I ask him. “You can go with Bina and me to talk to Paulson.”
He grins. “Sure. I’m in. Just let me know what you need me to do.” He glances down the hall and I narrow my eyes on him.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn.
