Chapter 54 #3
When she gets to the end of the line and mouths and rise, the three girls all motion for the students to stand up like a damn pastor calling the invitation at the end of a sermon.
The crowd stands and completely erupts. “I Believe!” chants thunder from the student section to the top row. Fans bang on bleachers. Flags wave. The little girl with the Bella sign loses her shit. Even the damn concession guys stop what they’re doing.
Dad leans forward, wide-eyed. “Holy fuck, son your girl…” He shakes his head, grinning like a lunatic. “Goddamn.”
“Yeah. She does that,” I mutter, jaw ticking with a twisted kind of pride.
The girls run to the field and take their places in front of Josh, Drake, and Sam. The guys lift them in the air as the next round of chants begin. While the guys hoist them into the air, the girls point toward the tunnel and the stadium detonates.
The Wexley Wolves burst onto the field like an army breaking formation. Helmets flashing under the floodlights. Smoke cannons firing from the end zone. The crowd goes feral. Drums, chants, horns, and thousands of voices vibrating the bleachers.
Bella’s the first to hit the turf. She and the girls sprint toward the Wolves’ huddle, sneakers kicking up turf pellets and static under the lights. She slips right between the shoulder pads and helmets like she belongs there. Like the entire goddamn team takes orders from her.
The beat hits that line about showing up and showing out and she doesn’t hesitate. She grabs August by the chest pads and yanks him down so they’re face-to-face. The crowd’s roaring, cameras flashing, but all I see is her—wild, fearless, commanding.
She shouts something in his ear, pure fire and authority, and August just grins and nods like a soldier taking orders from his general.
And I swear to God, I’ve never seen anything hotter in my life.
Across the field, the Titans look like they’re going to shit their pants. Well, some of them at least.
Not my Hollow Kings brothers. DeShawn and Chase are on the sideline hyping themselves up like the psychos they are. Rez just has his eyes focused on Bella, shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear. Bastard.
The huddle breaks into synchronized jumps, fire in their eyes and of fucking course it’s Callum who is jumping with my girl in his arms like he’s king of the world.
“Fuck that guy,” I mutter under my breath.
Dad laughs, clapping once. “Well, that’s one way to start a damn game.”
The refs head toward midfield, the Wolves and the Titans following in behind him. The captains line up for the coin toss.. All eyes shift to the center of the field.
Except mine.
Because The Trifecta just disappeared into a black tent on the sideline like they’re pulling off some sort of magic trick. Rico screaming in Spanish so loudly we can hear his dramatic ass from here.
Dad leans forward, squinting. “What is that? Where’d they go?”
Cade exhales slowly. “Costume change.”
The tent flaps open, and fuck me. Bella leads the pack, hair in a sleek high ponytail, dripping with attitude.
She’s traded the flashy Trifecta uniform for black spandex shorts and a tiny top styled like a cropped version of a Wolves’ football jersey.
And plastered right across her chest, bold and unforgiving?
#7. Callum’s number.
Clay whistles like he just saw the winning Powerball numbers. “Well, I’ll be damned! That’s my quarterback’s number, isn’t it?”
“Holy. Fucking. Shit. She has Callum’s number on her tits. Goddamn it,” I groan as I run my hand down my face.
Cade leans over. “I don’t like it either, but it makes sense, babe.”
“What part of our girl’s tits being branded with another man’s number makes any fucking sense, Cade?”
He grabs my thigh. “Three star players. Three Trifecta. It boosts school spirit. You know the drill.”
I glare back down at the field where Bella’s strutting like she owns every blade of grass. Ellie’s got August’s number stretching across her chest. Haley has Jalen’s. All three girls flanked by their stunt guys again like this is round two of domination.
I grit my teeth and mutter, “Tell me again why I can’t go down there and staple my number across her goddamn soul.”
Cade chuckles, not helping. “One, because you don’t have a number. Fighters don’t have jerseys. And two, because it’s a performance, not a mating ritual, babe.”
I cross my arms. “Feels like both.”
???
The scoreboard lights flash as the buzzer sounds and Kingsley erupts with cheers. The Wolves are up. Callum’s already pounding his chest like he just secured a playoff berth. Typical.
I’m mid-eye roll when I notice Bella standing directly in front of me at the railing, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, looking out into the crowd like she’s searching for something.
Ellie and Haley are perched behind her, legs swinging over the edge, smirks on their faces like they know something I don’t.
“What’s up, Bells?” Hugh asks over the speakers.
“Oh, nothing,” she calls back, her tone casual. But her eyes don’t stop scanning. “Just looking.”
“For what?” Hugh asks.
She tilts her head slightly. “I’ll know when I see it.” Then she gasps, loud enough to cut through the music and crowd. “Ah! There!” she yells, pointing. “Girls, look!”
Haley and Ellie jump off the rail, all three of them zeroing in on the middle of the stands behind us like predators locking onto prey. Bella takes off up the stairs.
“What the hell is going on?” Dad leans in, brows raised.
“I have no clue,” I mutter, sitting up straighter.
Suddenly, Bella’s coming down the stairs with a tiny human in her arms, a literal child, like this is just something she does on the daily. The little girl is in a pint-sized Trifecta uniform, complete with glitter face paint and a bow that’s nearly the size of her head.
“Bella, why are you kidnapping a child?” Hugh says through the speaker.
“I’m not kidnapping her Hughy. I have an idea, just give me a second.”
Bella stops right in front of our row, cradling the girl on her hip like she’s been doing it for years. The other girls come up behind them.
“Hey guys,” Bella says, motioning toward the three Legacy stunt dudes, “Come here.”
They hustle over immediately.
Bella adjusts the little girl on her hip slightly to talk to her. “Hi, sweetie. What’s your name?”
The little girl shyly leans in and says, “Millie.”
Bella beams and looks to the crowd. “Everyone say hi, Millie!”
“Hi Millie!” the crowd echoes back.
Bella shifts her weight, carrying Millie back and forth in front of our section like she’s giving a speech at the damn UN. “Millie here wants to be in The Trifecta tonight. Right, babe?”
Millie nods with all the force of a kid who believes this moment is her actual Disney moment.
“Okay, so we’re gonna teach you how to fly. You think you can do that?”
Millie nods again, braver now. Bella kisses the top of her head.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Why does Bella holding a kid do things to me?”
Cade leans over, voice low and mocking-sweet. “Because you’ve officially crossed over into softdom. Welcome, babe.”
Bella sets Millie down gently. “Alright Millie. First, you’re going to practice with us girls, okay?”
The Trifecta help guide Millie up into a little cradle lift. Nothing too high, just enough for her to squeal and wave. She lands perfectly and immediately throws her arms around Bella’s neck.
“You’re a natural,” Bella says, laughing.
“Okay, now the boys are gonna do it,” she adds, adjusting Millie’s bow. “They’re stronger than us.”
Millie gives a determined nod and Josh lifts her up into the air like she’s made of light.
The crowd loses it. When she comes back down, Millie runs to hug all three girls before her mom comes down from the stands, misty-eyed and overwhelmed.
The Trifecta wraps around her—posing for pictures, letting Millie shine like the tiniest queen in the stadium.
Dad exhales next to me. “Well, I’ll be damned. They really do run this place.”
???
The game’s back in full swing. The crowd’s roaring and the stadium lights blaze down like we’re in a damn NFL arena. My bestie really is a master with lighting. The Wolves are up, but barely. Titans aren’t giving them an inch. The tension’s thick enough to cut with a knife.
“That’s pass interference, Ref!” Bella shouts from her spot on the sideline, hands cupped around her mouth. “Throw the damn flag!”
Dad chuckles beside me. “Your girl’s got some lungs on her.”
“Oh hell yeah, she’s competitive as fuck. Fits right in, huh?”
The flag flies a second later.
“Thank you!” Bella shouts again.
“Definitely Barinov material.” Dad laughs, shaking his head like he’s both impressed and slightly terrified.
“So… where exactly is Mom?”
Dad exhales through his nose. “Moscow. With your uncle.”
“Of course.”
“Big deal, apparently. Some multi-million-dollar shipment going south. They’re trying to smooth things over before anyone starts shooting each other in a boardroom.”
I groan, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “I just really wanted her to be here to meet Bella. She’s so close with Cade’s family. Hell, she’s practically a Whitmore. Calls Clay Dad and everything, and I just… I just wanted that for us.”
Dad nods slowly, watching Bella scream at the field again as Callum narrowly misses a sack from Rez.
“Run the damn ball, Cal!” she yells, stomping once like it’ll help move the chains.
“She’s a firecracker,” Dad says, then turns back to me. “Alright, here’s the deal, son. When your mom gets back, I’ll talk to her. We’ll set something up. Brunch, maybe. You know how much she loves a good brunch. The woman can’t say no to a white tablecloth and bottomless mimosas.”
I huff a soft laugh. “Thanks, Dad.”
“TOUCHDOWN, WOLVES!!!”
The crowd explodes. Bella and the girls jump into the air like they just won an unlimited shopping trip on Fifth Avenue, hair flying, fists in the air.