Chapter 21 #2
The only problem is all of these hockey players and whoever else is here are so freaking tall.
My anxiety is starting to creep into the back of my mind that maybe I should’ve stayed with Jack because how do I know Bradley hasn’t just walked in and made himself feel right at home? No, that’d be ridiculous. Bradley’s a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid enough to show up here.
An arm slides around my waist and I smile, knowing it’s Jack’s way of getting me back for earlier. I know we’re just friends, but maybe it’s okay we’re blurring the line a little. It doesn’t mean anything.
Ellie swivels toward me, but her eyebrows knit as she looks above me, and her smile dims.
“How do you know Al?” she asks, and I turn my head to look up at Jack.
“We’re old friends,” Bradley says, giving her his most charming smile, and the beer I’m holding slips from my hand, crashing to hit the floor. The girl next to me shrieks as the beer splashes her, but I’m paralyzed.
Bradley.
Bradley.
Bradley.
Bradley’s arm around me.
Not Jack.
Move, Al. Don’t just fucking stand here.
Before I can even try to move, his hand on my waist tightens, holding me in place.
Alarms are going off in my head, but it’s too little, too late.
“Let me go,” I say, wishing I could shout the words, but it doesn’t come out louder than a whisper. Oh my god, I should have told Ellie everything. Jack was right.
His grip becomes painfully tight, and the warning in his eyes could not be more clear.
“Angel, I can’t believe you didn’t tell your friends about me.
” He turns to Ellie who is putting her phone back in her pocket, and I’m horrified I let my guard down.
“She’s probably had too much to drink. Maybe I should just get her home,” Bradley says, but if he drags me out of here, I don’t know what’s going to happen.
I don’t know how to put it into words how fucking terrified I am right now.
Bradley’s fingers have slipped underneath my sweatshirt, digging into my skin. I feel like I’ve gone back a year in time. I bite my lip hard, trying to keep this from escalating from bad to worse. Ellie’s smile is tense because we both know I’m not drunk.
“Actually, I’ll catch up with you guys later if that’s okay. I wanna hear more about Al’s guy,” Ellie says, without taking her eyes off him, but her friends who don’t understand are quick to make their getaway, one of them grumbling about the beer I spilled on her shoe.
“Oh, why don’t you tell the story?” he says, and I wince when his grip somehow tightens in warning. I’m not doing this. I got out before. I’m not trapped anymore.
“Freshman year,” I mumble, clearing my throat. I can do this. “We met freshman year, but we’ve been broken up for eleven months,” I say, finding my voice, and if we weren’t in a crowd of potential witnesses, I’m positive Bradley would’ve already knocked the air from my lungs.
Why is he here?
His eyes are murderous, but to my relief, I hear Dylan. “What’s going on here?” Ellie must have texted him.
“Al asked her ex to let her go, and he hasn’t,” Ellie explains, and Bradley’s quick to pull me against his front.
Dylan’s calm smile is misleading as he sizes up Bradley. “Dude, there’s no reason to make a scene. Just let her go, okay?”
“No,” Bradley says, his low laugh vibrating through my whole body. “Why don’t you go find your buddy and tell him I want to talk? Seems like Jack didn’t understand the first time I told him to stay away from my girl.”
“I’m not your girl,” I say, trying to push his hands off me, and Dylan steps forward, causing Bradley’s grip to waver enough for me to throw my head back, connecting with his chin.
It’s enough of a surprise I’m able to slip away as a few people turn toward us, and Dylan automatically steps in front of me.
“Leave now,” Dylan says, and there’s no room for argument in his tone. The music is still playing around us as the party continues, and I hear Ellie ask if I’m okay.
Bradley grimaces, rubbing the red mark forming on his jaw. “I know you didn’t mean that, so let’s go.”
“No,” I say, standing my ground, but it’s a lot easier to do with Dylan standing between us.
“How well did that answer work for you last time?”
My stomach plummets, and I feel like I’m gasping for air, stuck at the bottom of his stairs in the negative degree weather again, trying to stay awake long enough to get a call through to Macy.
I don’t have a chance to see the way Ellie’s looking at me because Jack appears out of nowhere.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Jack says, not bothering with subtleties. Bradley’s gaze bounces between Dylan and Jack, probably assessing whether it’s worth taking on both of them to get to me. One on one, maybe. Two on one, no fucking way.
“I told you to stay away from her,” Bradley says, his mask slipping to show his true, hateful nature for a moment. “Alondra,” he snaps, and I flinch. I fucking flinch, and I hate giving him the reaction.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you told me. I don’t answer to you, and neither does she. Get the hell out of my house before I call the police,” Jack threatens, and a few people near us back up at the edge his voice has taken, paying close attention to the scene now that Jack’s involved.
Bradley looks past Jack, staring directly at me, and I know I was a fool for thinking he loved me. Maybe at some point he did, but eventually, I became his favorite punching bag. He doesn’t miss me—he just misses having someone to push around.
I’m not that person anymore.
He put his hands up in surrender, backing off at the mention of the police, probably realizing if I were to lift my shirt up, there’d be marks from how tightly he grabbed me.
He’s out of moves right now, and if he keeps pushing, he’s risking football.
It’s the only thing he was ever terrified to lose.
After he walks away, pushing through bystanders toward the front door, I feel like I can breathe again.
Dylan grabs Jack’s arm, pulling him toward the back door, and I’m quick to follow, shaking off Ellie’s questions of whether I’m okay or not. Oh my god, everyone’s staring at us. This is a nightmare.
“—you good?” I catch the last of Dylan’s question after slipping through the open door before it shuts, sealing us out in the cold.
“No, I’m not fucking good. Did he touch Al?” Jack asks, not realizing I’ve followed them out.
Dylan doesn’t say anything, and he swears under his breath, bracing his hands behind his head.
“I’m okay,” I say, announcing myself as I move closer.
“Did he hurt you?” Jack repeats, and the fear lurking in the shadows of his features surprises me.
“No,” I say, because telling Jack he had his hands on me would only pour fuel on the blaze of his fury.
“He threatened you. I heard him.”
I cross my arms over my chest, pinching my eyes shut for a moment as if I can pretend to turn back time before tonight turned into a disaster. “It doesn’t matter,” I say, exhaling a long breath.
“What the hell do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Jack questions, his tone biting.
I falter, instinctively taking a step back, bumping into Dylan, who helps steady me. I know Jack’s anger isn’t directed at me, but it’s a reflex.
“Schultz, cool it or walk away,” Dylan warns, and Jack looks stricken, his hand covering his mouth.
“Al . . .” he trails off, turning away to walk further into the yard.
“It’s okay,” I say, turning to reassure Dylan I’m fine. “Thank you,” I add, catching us both by surprise when I hug him briefly.
“I’m gonna check on Ellie,” he says, casting a worried glance in Jack’s direction after I step away. “Are you okay? You should probably get an ice pack for your head. You got him good,” Dylan continues, looking me over.
“I’m fine,” I say, looking at where Jack is pacing. “I’ve got him.”
He nods, heading back inside, and I shake out my hands, trying to stop them from trembling. Tonight could’ve been so much worse.
I keep my arms wrapped around myself, trying to conserve my body heat as I walk closer to Jack. “Hey,” I say softly, unsure of where to start. Thanks for the assist inside? “It’s okay, he’s gone,” I decide upon, trying to play it safe.
“How can you say it’s okay?” he asks, each word sounding like it takes extreme effort to say.
“Because saying it’s not okay doesn’t change anything.”
“Alondra.”
My brain hurts trying to dissect the way Jack says my name. “What?” I ask, clenching Jack’s sweatshirt in my fists to steady myself.
“Did Bradley hurt you tonight?” he asks, repeating the question again.
“What would you do if I said yes? Go after him and get yourself kicked off the team, blowing your future to pieces? Or, better yet, you’d probably find yourself thrown in a cell because he’s smart enough to know what to say to get you to hit him first.”
Honestly? I’m not okay. I should have been more careful tonight.
“I don’t know what I’d do, but I know it’s not okay. None of this is okay, and it fucking matters,” Jack says, turning around to face me, his chest heaving.
“Except it doesn’t! He isn’t going to stop, Jack.
The best thing we can do is ignore him because I’m done letting him control me, and living in fear of the next time he’ll show up is just another form of the fucking mind games he used to play with me.
” The mental abuse was almost worse than the physical kind, making me doubt everything about myself.
“You matter. You matter to me, Alondra,” Jack says, dragging his hands through his hair, and I fight the instinct to reach for him. “What did he mean after you said no to him?”
I snap my mouth shut, knowing the truth would be the tipping point for what little restraint Jack is holding onto. I shake my head, glancing away. Why do I matter to him? Why couldn’t he have just left me alone after realizing I was his coach’s daughter?
“Jack, don’t . . . don’t ask me about that. Please,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice from breaking. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to keep the tears at bay.
“Al, I saw the look on your face.”
I don’t know how to tell Jack about it without bursting into tears.
“I promise you it can’t be any worse than what I’m already thinking,” Jack says, stepping closer to me, and I want him to wrap me in his arms because I think it’s where I feel safest, but I need to find a way to make myself feel safe.
“You went to get a drink and never came back. I shouldn’t have let you walk off by yourself after realizing Kane and some of the football players we know showed up. ”
I scoff, reminding myself I can’t always rely on Jack and his friends to be there to step between Bradley and me. I have to learn to stand on my own at some point. “I’m not someone for you to babysit. You should be able to talk to your friends without worrying about me.”
“I can’t help unless you talk to me.”
Does he not realize I’ve already said more about this to him than I have with anyone besides Macy?
“What do you want to talk about? He was here. It happened. I can’t change it, but he left.”
“Bradley isn’t going to stop,” Jack points out as if it’s something I don’t know already. It’s the only reason I’ve continued letting the guys sleep on our couch longer than a week.
“You think I don’t know that?” I ask, a cruel laugh sounding from me.
“What happened the last time you told him no?” Jack insists, and this time, tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them.
“He pushed me down the stairs outside his house in subzero temperatures last January, leaving me to pass out in a pile of snow with broken bones and a nasty concussion. He didn’t even bother opening the door when Macy showed up because I told him I was done.
That’s what happened last time I told him no.
” I stare at him, hating how his handsome face drains of color, but he wanted to know.
After everything else he already knew about my relationship with Bradley, he had to know it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Are you happy now?” I ask, the crack in my voice echoing the way I’ve broken myself wide open.
“Darlin’ . . .”
The tears are streaming down my face, and I wipe them away, angry they’re falling. “Don’t, Jack. I’m not your girlfriend, and I’m sure as hell not a problem for you to try and fix. Just leave me alone.”