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He glared at Andy. At this particular moment, he didn’t fucking care what the consequences would be for him. Andy was dead.
Gonzo grabbed him on the other side and together they dragged him into a treatment room.
Ryan paced around the room. “He’s fucking dead.”
“You gotta relax, Ry,” Gonzo said.
“Relax? He just showed the entire team a video of my girlfriend sucking his dick. I’m not going to fucking relax.”
“You freaking out, or worse, doing something stupid and getting suspended is exactly what Andy wants. Don’t give him that?”
“Why the fuck would he want that?” Ryan looked around the room for something to take his anger out on. Of course, they’d chosen this room with the fucking ice-bath and massage table. There wasn’t a goddamn thing in here that would help. “Fuck,” he yelled.
“Who knows? It’s fucking Andy. He’s jealous, I don’t know.” Pete picked up one of the resistance bands and chucked it at Ryan. “Pull on that or something.”
Ryan shot his friend a withering stare. A resistance band was not going to do jack shit in helping him release what he needed to release. The only thing that would was smashing Andy’s smug face.
Pete hoisted himself up on the edge of the massage table. “That video was taken before you guys got together. It’s not like you didn’t know they had a past,” Pete said calmly.
“Big fucking difference between knowing and seeing it in technicolor.” Peyton had said she hadn’t had sex with Andy. That video said otherwise. What the fuck was going on? Why did she lie to him?
“I’m sure there is, but it doesn’t change anything, Ry.”
“You can’t be serious?” This changed everything. How the fuck was he supposed to trust her when she’d lied?
“Most of the guys on the team didn’t even see the video,” Gonzo said.
“Whether or not they saw it, they’ll all fucking hear about how it exists.”
“And what they do with that information will be determined by how you react. So calm your shit down,” Gonzo told him.
That was a whole lot easier said than done. He paced around the room, yanking and pulling on the resistance band as he walked. This whole thing was so fucked up. It was like rookie year all over again. He couldn’t do this again. It had been bad enough when his college girlfriend had cheated on him with a teammate and the shit he’d been put through, but this? This would be so much worse. He kicked the garbage can, sending the metal bucket launching across the room. It hit the wall and slid to the floor.
A light knock sounded, and Ryan snapped his head toward the door. Smitty gave a small wave through the door, then stepped in.
“Hey sorry to interrupt. Coach wants everybody on the field. I thought it’d be easier if it was me that came in rather than him.” Smitty gave Ryan a tight smile. “Sorry man, I heard. Andy’s a dick.”
“Hmm, that’s one word for it.” Ryan pushed his hand through his hair roughly. His hand trembled with residual adrenaline, and he flexed his fingers, opening and closing his fist to gain control of his body. Pete was right, he would not give Andy the satisfaction of fucking with his game. He glanced through the window at the empty locker room, then at his friends. “Thanks guys.”
“Anytime,” Pete said. “Get changed and let’s get out there.”
Ryan walked onto the field. Every muscle in his body vibrated with rage as he stood on the practice mound.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as he tried to center himself. Andy gave the sign for a slider and lined up his mitt. Ryan eyed the glove, then Andy’s face. The urge to ignore the call and whip the ball at Andy’s head as hard as he could instead was strong. If he thought the guy would miss the catch, he might actually follow through on the urge.
Fuck. He wanted to kill him. Screw what was best for the team. The guy needed to be tuned up and he was just the person to do it.
“You gonna throw the ball or what?” Andy yelled.
“I’ll throw it when I’m good and fucking ready,” he snarled. Ryan was holding on by a thread and this piece of shit didn’t know how close he was to getting his teeth knocked out.
He closed his eyes and took another deep breath.Focus on the glove.That was all that mattered. Not who was holding it, but where the glove was placed. There was nothing else. He breathed slowly in and out, then finally opened his eyes. Like looking down a tunnel, his vision focused on the mitt, and he didn’t see anything else. He wound up and launched the ball. The glove didn’t even have to move to catch it.
“That was a little outside, Ry,” Coach Gill called from his place behind Andy.
What the fuck? That pitch was perfect.
“Try a fastball this time,” Coach yelled.
