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His gaze dropped down to the jersey I wore, and there was no mistaking the flash of anger in his eyes. Fuck.
"You're wearing his jersey," he muttered, anger coloring his tone. "Are you Maddox's little slut now?"
"Fuck you, Chance," I hissed, crossing my arms over my chest. "What do you care? You told me to do whatever I needed to do." I shrugged.
He stepped into my personal space, dropping his duffle bag. "Careful, little girl." His tone was low and threatening. My jaw clenched as I swallowed my fear. We were in the middle of a parking lot. A parking lot that should have been crowded with ballers was empty. "Don't forget who's in control here. I will ruin you."
The fear of those videos surfacing was gone, and I felt like, for the first time, I could stand up for myself.
"Get off me," I hissed, shoving him out of my space. "Or maybe I should have a chat with your wife."
Every bit of air was violently exhaled from my lungs when he slammed his body hard against mine, pinning me against Maddox's truck. His fingers fisted into my hair, and I cried out in pain when he jerked my head back so forcefully I thought he might rip my hair out.
"Don't you fucking threaten me, bitch," he growled, his hot breath fanning across my cheek.
"Chance," I pleaded as his fingers curled around my neck.
"You're probably the little whore who called my wife," he growled.
"I didn't..." My words were cut off as his grip tightened around my throat. My hands pulled and scratched frantically at his hands and wrist, trying to loosen his grip. Chance had lost it. He was going to kill me. My eyes locked on his, desperately pleading with him to let me go, but it was pointless. His eyes were dark and hollow, soulless.
Just as my body started succumbing to the darkness, his hand was gone, and I collapsed to my knees, coughing, desperate to draw a deep breath.
My gaze flashed up, searching for Chance, praying he was gone, but he was no longer standing. Maddox had him on his knees in a chokehold.
"Maddox," I gasped. He was going to ruin his dreams. He would be kicked off the team, maybe even out of the school. Chance's face paled as Maddox dropped his head to Chance's ear, whispering something I couldn't hear. "Maddox!" Maddox's gaze flashed up, meeting mine. Anger rolled off him in violent waves as he dropped his arms, shoving Chance forward simultaneously, then extending to his full height.
I expected Chance to retaliate, but he didn't. Instead, he scrambled to his feet, bolting for his vehicle, not even bothering to grab the bag he'd dropped at my feet.
"Are you okay?" Maddox asked, his face lined with worry. I nodded.
"He's going to kick you off the team," I muttered as he pulled me to my feet.
"Don't worry about him," he said, pulling me into him. "He won't be a problem anymore."
I hoped he was right.
FORTY-NINE
ADDISON
It had been three days since Chance attacked me in the parking lot, and my hands still trembled at the thought of seeing him again. He was my boss. It was only a matter of time before we came face to face. A chill raced up my spine at the thought of what could have happened if Maddox hadn't come out when he did.
I yelped, jumping out of my skin when a tap sounded on my office door. My gaze flashed up, expecting to see Chance.
"I'm sorry, Addison," Karen Peterson exclaimed, stepping into my office. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Sucking in a deep breath, I shook my head before blowing it out to steady myself. "No, you're fine," I reassured her, placing my hand over my heart. "How can I help you?" Ms. Peterson was Chance's boss in the tutoring department, and I rarely dealt with her directly.
"Well, dear, I was hoping for a favor." She smiled a polite smile. "Coach Brown resigned this morning, effective immediately." My face fell as my eyes went wide. "I know it was a surprise to everyone, but he does have a new baby due any day now, so we completely understand him accepting a job closer to home, but that leaves us with a vacancy here at the tutoring center." She slid into the seat across from my desk. "I was hoping you could fill the position until you graduate at the end of this semester."
"Me?"
She nodded. "I know you only have three classes," she said.
"Two," I corrected her. I'd started college early, and now I only needed two classes to graduate with a Bachelor's in Communications with a minor in Sports Media.
"Sorry, two." She smiled apologetically. "And I figured you could use the raise that would come with it."
