Chapter 13
Josephine
A prickle of awareness dances up my spine a few seconds before a long shadow veils the end of the dock.
I don’t know which one of them it is, nor do I care. The crash from the adrenaline and anxiety that have churned through my nervous system all night has finally started to dissipate, and a bone-tired weariness is settling in its place.
I’m all out of fight.
He sits beside me on the rough boards of the dock, and I finally brave a glance over.
Kylian meets my gaze through his glasses, but his expression is unreadable.
I have no idea if he’s out here as a messenger or a spy—as a friend or a foe.
He’s not as hard as the others, but he rarely looks at me.
He’s usually engrossed in whatever’s happening on his damn iPad, so I haven’t had a chance to truly assess him.
He’s looking now.
Gulping past my hesitation, I pull my knees into my chest and wrap myself in a hug. My body aches, and I’m desperate for a hot shower and a long nap. Except both seem like faraway possibilities, given my current situation.
After a few minutes of quiet, I finally break the silence. “Can I ask you something?”
He nods, shifting slightly so he can face me.
“What does Decker think I saw?”
His eyebrows shoot up over the rim of his glasses and into his hairline.
“What?” I scoff. “If you’re convinced I already know something, what does it matter?”
“Fair point.”
He’s quiet for a moment, looking from me to the lake, then back again.
Pressing my lips together, I do my best to mask the eagerness I feel. I’m desperate for something to go on here.
Kylian keeps his gaze set on the lake when he speaks. “Nicky and Kendrick need treatments that aren’t approved by the NCAA.”
The nickname—Nicky—is adorable. I can’t focus on that shit right now, though.
Nicholas Lockewood could have intervened at any point over the last several hours, but he didn’t.
He’s not a knight in shining armor. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Or maybe he’s just a sheep, going along with what Decker tells him to do.
“And?” I prompt, when I realize Kylian’s watching me. Like he’s waiting for me to connect the dots. “I don’t think I even know what NCAA stands for.”
“You really don’t know anything, do you?” His voice is soft, bordering on sympathetic, the words seemingly kind.
I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Kylian considers me, then subtly nods. “Nicky and Kendrick need help to feel their best. What works for them is considered a banned substance, so if the powers that be find evidence of their treatments, they won’t be able to play football.”
Football. This is about fucking football?
“I’m sure I sound like a broken record at this point, but I don’t even know what a ‘banned substance’ is or why it matters. Is it like doping?” I glare at his profile.
He doesn’t look away from the water. “Technically, yes.”
Now I’m intrigued. “Aren’t they drug tested?”
Kylian’s lip quirks up ever so slightly. If I wasn’t so focused on him, I’d have missed it.
“Regularly. By Crusade Labs.”
I can’t stop the tsk that escapes. Of-fucking-course.
“And let me guess. It’s easy to fix the results of a drug test when your name is on the building?”
“Or when your friend is a tech genius,” he adds, tapping his finger on his temple.
I sigh and drop my chin, fighting my fatigue.
But Kylian keeps going. “The good doctor used to come to the house. But the paps started coming around again when Decker turned eighteen. He was worried someone might figure out what they were doing.”
“Paps?”
“Paparazzi,” Kylian clarifies. “Local media and bloggers, mostly. The occasional tabloid. But everyone’s got a camera in their pocket these days, ya know?”
I do. I really fucking do.
“Why would paparazzi care?”
Kylian’s brows shoot up again. He’s looking at me like I’m a moron. And maybe I am. Decker is undoubtedly attractive. He’s all male in that testosterone-fueled kind of way. I had no idea being a football player on a college team could come with such notoriety.
“Decker Crusade can’t take a shit without someone posting about it online. Kendrick, too, nowadays.”
I scan the shoreline with that admission. So not only am I trapped on an isle, being held semi-prisoner in a mansion, but I’m also at risk of being photographed?
“Relax, Jo,” Kylian murmurs. “We have a ton of security around here. You won’t see them, but they’re always there. Plus, the paps are used to seeing women at the house. They won’t care about you.”
“Charming.” His dismissiveness grates against my nerves.
“Honest,” he quips.
I take solace in that, hoping like hell he’s right.
“Speaking of… Security will know to watch for you. If you try to run or escape in some way… they’ll know. We’ll know. There will be consequences. It won’t be worth it.”
I crack my knuckles quietly in my lap, inwardly seething.
With a groan, I drop my head and push the heels of my hands into my eyes.
This whole situation is a nightmare I didn’t even know was possible.
Stupid hormones being attracted to Locke in the first place.
Stupid heart being all girly and thinking he was trying to visit me at work last night. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Ya know, a lot of girls would kill to be in your shoes.”
I don’t bother lifting my head when I snap back at him. “To be kidnapped with nothing more than the clothes on their back and forced to live with four men they barely know?”
“No. To have the undivided attention of half the Lake Chapel U offensive line.”
I roll my eyes so hard they hurt. The audacity and the attitude. These assholes really think that highly of themselves. They could all use a healthy serving of humble pie. And I want to be the one to dish it up for them.
“I guess I’m not like most girls,” I retort, internally cringing at the sentiment.
I hate that kind of thinking: the way society pits women against each other to perpetuate patriarchal norms. I’ve experienced firsthand just how nasty it is to be on the receiving end of a calculated, tactical smear campaign from another female. I shudder as I shove down the memories.
“I won’t argue with that. No social media presence and a complete immunity to Decker’s charms. You really aren’t like most girls I know…”
My anxiety blasts off into the stratosphere, and my spine snaps straight. “You tried to look me up on social media?”
Kylian side-eyes me. “Yes. I also went through your phone and search history.”
I fight back the tears pressing against the back of my eyes and resist the urge to jump into the damn lake just to escape this moment. If he found—
“I had to be sure you weren’t a rat or a spy,” he explains. “It was the only way to assure Decker that you’re harmless. You can have this back, by the way.”
He holds out my phone, and relief smacks into me on the next breath.
“I swapped out the SIM card but transferred over your contacts and apps,” he continues, but I’m barely listening now. “There’s a location tracker on it, but that shouldn’t be an issue since you’ll be here or with one of us all the time.”
“Are you kidding me?” I fume, rising to my feet and gripping the phone in my hand.
“No,” Kylian replies coolly. He stands and brushes off his jeans, then glances over to where I’m shooting figurative daggers at him. “Oh. That was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?”
This fucker. And here I thought maybe he was less of a threat than the others.
“Do you think you’re being funny right now?” I snap.
Kylian tilts his head slightly, his face screwed up in puzzlement. “I assure you I don’t.”
“Do you think this is a game?” I push, my anger getting the best of me as I unleash it on him.
I have no doubt Decker was the one who came up with the terms of my captivity, but fuck Kylian for being complicit.
Fuck all of them for thinking they can trample all over my life—my hopes, my dreams, my fresh start—because of a simple misunderstanding.
He scratches at the back of his neck, revealing a hint of ink on the underside of his bicep. I drag my attention back to his face and scold myself for being even momentarily distracted. Living with these guys and keeping my hatred firmly in place will be a major test of willpower.
“Look… Locke and I worked really hard to get you that,” he juts his chin toward the phone in my hand, “and to talk Decker down from more of his, shall we say, creative ideas to keep tabs on you.”
I choke down the sense of dread bubbling up from my gut. I’ve gone toe to toe with Decker Crusade twice in the last two weeks. If only I weren’t so damn affected by him. It’s clear that he’s intense, to put it lightly, and that he’s willing to go to extreme measures to get what he wants.
“Come on,” Kylian encourages, starting back toward the gargantuan structure they all call home. “The phone thing doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Easy for him to say…
“You’ll have your own room and access to the whole house. I can link you up to my account for anything you need, and if you add your food requests to the tablet in the kitchen, our housekeeper will pick it up on her weekly trip to the grocery store.”
I’m frozen on the end of the dock, my feet unwilling to follow. As if my refusal to walk back into the mansion makes any difference to my current situation.
Kylian stops several feet away from me and turns back, holding out a hand.
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer, although I don’t know who I’m praying to or what to even ask for.
Just not this.
When I open my eyes, nothing has changed about my surroundings or my situation. But I’m exhausted and mentally out of fight. I need to regroup, get my head on straight, and figure out my next move.
“The season is just starting, Jo. It’s up to you whether the next fourteen plus weeks are miserable or enjoyable.”
“Fourteen plus weeks?” I gape.
“Twelve regular season games and two bye weeks, then playoffs and a bowl game. Lake Chapel University is expected to take it all the way this year.”