30. Shepherd
SHEPHERD
The Alley Tap feels louder than the stadium which shouldn’t be possible, but somehow it is.
The bass from “Sweet Caroline” rattles the dusty neon signs on the wall while bodies press against each other like sardines, the smell of beer and sweat hanging in the air.
Every surface gleams with condensation. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve got the entire team crammed into those sticky vinyl booths in the back along with my brothers—all six-foot-something of them taking up space with their broad shoulders and booming voices—that makes it seem more crowded than usual.
Though come to think of it, I’ve never been in here on an actual game day. Maybe it’s always like this.
Every few seconds someone yells something about the game like we didn’t just live it, but I smile with pride every time. It was a terrific win not just for my team…but for me.
If someone had told me a few months ago that during Monday night’s game, I’d be dancing and singing on the field for the love of my life, I would have laughed in their face and told them to get a life.
But then here I am, packed into a bar, watching my girl do her thing with a feeling of immense pride as she helps Cal behind the bar, even on her day off, after giving her the performance of a lifetime in front of thousands of people.
“I love you so fucking much you ridiculous bastard!”
I laugh as I replay the moment in my head. The moment when the woman I’m in love with stood up in a stadium filled with people and told me she loved me too. That will never not be the coolest moment of my entire life.
“Another round!” Killian shouts.
The room cheers and Sutton flips him off knowing how many drinks she’ll be making and delivering around the room. I pass her a look that says I’m willing to help out, but she shoos me away and says she’s got it.
Because of course she does.
My girl is bad ass and I love her so damn much.
I can’t help but grin as I watch her move around the bar.
The way she navigates the chaos with such ease, like she was born for this, sliding up next to Cal, mixing drinks without even looking, remembering everyone’s orders without writing anything down.
It’s a different kind of performance than what I gave her today, but no less impressive.
And tonight, instead of tossing out insults about athletes like me and the overpriced uniforms we wear, she’s smiling and laughing and celebrating our wins with every customer she meets.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful and I can’t wait to get her home and—
“Earth to Shepherd.” Jake waves his hand in front of my face. “You still with us, Romeo?”
“Sorry,” I say, not sorry at all. “Just admiring the view.”
Boone snorts into his beer. “We noticed. You’ve barely blinked for the last five minutes.”
“Can you blame me?” I ask, taking a swig of my beer as Sutton catches my eye and gives me a small, private smile that somehow feels more intimate than our kiss on the field. That smile is just for me, even across this packed room.
“No, but it’s getting nauseating,” Killian chimes in, tossing a coaster at me. “We get it. You’re in love. It’s disgusting.”
“Jealousy is an ugly look on you bro,” I tell him.
“I know, I know.” He pushes his hand through his hair and grins at me. “But watching you these past couple months as you fell down the Sutton Price rabbit hole…” He shrugs. “It’s cute and I think I wouldn’t mind experiencing what it feels like to really fall for someone the way you did.”
“Or he just wants to get laid,” Bishop laughs beside us.
“Says the guy who looks at Mack Adams like she’s the only girl who will give you the time of day.”
“Fuck you, Kill. Mackenzie and I are friends, you know that.”
He cocks a brow. “Just friends?”
Hop rolls his eye. “Yeah. Just friends. Because unlike you, I’m capable of being friends with a girl and not fucking her.”
“Bet he would if given the chance though,” Killian mumbles on the other side of me before wrapping his hand around his beer and taking a nice long swig.
I’m about to respond to Killian’s comment about Bishop and Mackenzie when the front door of the bar swings open. The burst of cold air hits the room, but it’s not what makes my entire body go rigid. It’s who walks through that door.
Micah Brannigan.
He stumbles as he enters, clearly drunk, scanning the crowded bar until he lands on Sutton, who’s delivering a tray of shots to a table near the front. My blood runs cold as I watch his face transform, that predatory smile I remember from the medical hallway spreading across his features.
“What the fuck?” Jake mutters, following my gaze.
“Isn’t that—” Boone starts.
“Yeah,” I cut him off. “It is.” I’m already halfway out of my seat. “He’s not supposed to be anywhere near—”
Sebastian’s hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Easy,” he says, but I can feel the tension in his grip. “He’s banned from team events,” he reminds me. “Not from every bar in Portland.”
Micah hasn’t noticed our table yet, his focus entirely on Sutton as he weaves through the crowd toward her. When she turns around I watch as the color drains from her face when she recognizes him. The tray in her hands trembles ever so slightly, but she doesn’t drop it.
“Well, well,” Micah’s voice carries over the music. “Look who it is.”
I stand tall and immediately catch Sutton’s eye, letting her know I’m right here. She’s not alone. She gives me a subtle nod that she’s okay and lifts her chin defiantly at the prick standing in front of her.
“You need to leave,” she tells him, her voice shaky.
“Actually, I think I need a drink,” Micah slurs, swaying as he steps closer to her. “And I’ll stay as long as I want. You owe me.”
“I don’t owe you shit, you sick bastard.” Sutton’s voice rings out over the crowd and my chest tightens as I stand tall behind Micah, watching my girl take back her power knowing she’s not alone in this bar. She’s got an entire family looking out for her.
Micah’s face twists into an ugly sneer. “Still got that mouth on you, huh? Some things never change.”
“Shep, maybe you should do something,” Kyler murmurs beside.
“No. She can do this. She needs to do this for herself, but I’m right here if she needs me.” This is Sutton’s moment. She wanted to take her power back, and I promised to stand beside her, not in front of her.
“We’re all here, bro,” Jake reminds me. “She’s not alone.”
“Actually, some things do change,” Sutton says, setting the tray down on the nearest table with deliberate calm. “I changed. I’m not that terrified nineteen-year-old girl anymore.”
Everyone is watching now, conversations dying as everyone turns to witness the confrontation. Cal moves toward them from behind the bar, but Sutton shakes her head, stopping him.
“You think you’ve changed?” Micah laughs, harsh and cruel. “You’re still the same pathetic girl who can’t function without a man to take care of her. Just traded up to a richer model, didn’t you?”
My teammates shift around me, ready to move, but I hold my ground. This is her fight and as much as I want to punch this asshole’s lights out, I have to let her do this.
“No,” Sutton says, her voice growing stronger with each word. “I’m the woman who survived you. Who rebuilt her life piece by piece after you tried to destroy it. Who learned that real men don’t need to rape women…” She swallows. “Or physically break them to feel powerful.”
The bar has gone completely silent now, the music still playing but nobody dancing, nobody talking. All eyes on this showdown that’s been years in the making.
Micah’s face darkens. “Rape?” He laughs.
“Fuck me, you always were one for the dramatics, but let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart.
You asked for it every single fucking time and you know it.
” He steps closer to her, and I have to physically restrain myself from intervening.
“I made you. Everything you are is because of me.”
“You’re right,” Sutton says, and for a second my heart stops.
But then she continues, “Everything I am is because I survived you. Because I learned what love isn’t supposed to be.
So, thank you for showing me everything a real man isn’t.
” She sneers refusing to back down. “I spent years terrified of seeing your face again. Years thinking you still had power over me.” She steps toward him, and I swear the whole bar holds its breath.
“But look at me now. I’m not afraid of you anymore.
You’re nothing but a coward, Micah. A pathetic, small man who hasn’t amounted to anything but a fucking loser. ”
Micah’s face contorts with rage. “You ungrateful bitch,” he snarls, lurching forward.
That’s it. I’m moving before I even realize it, but I’m not the only one. The entire team rises as one, chairs scraping across the floor. But we don’t need to intervene because Cal is already there, blocking Micah’s path.
“That’s enough,” Cal says, his normally jovial voice deadly serious. “You’re done here.”
“Do you know who I am?” Micah demands, puffing up his chest like a threatened animal.
“Yeah, I do,” Cal says. “You’re the guy who’s about to get thrown out of my bar.”
“You think I’m the loser here, Price?” Micah growls, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s a game day and your team won, yet here you are working in this bar instead of celebrating with your man.
” He laughs. “He must be sticking his dick in someone else tonight, huh? Tell me, where’s your pretty boy now? ”
“Right here, asshole,” I say, standing right behind him, my voice steady and calm even as rage boils inside me.
Micah whips around, his bloodshot eyes widening when he sees me. For a split second, I see fear flash across his face before he masks it with a sneer.
“Well, if it isn’t the hero quarterback,” he slurs, swaying on his feet. “Come to rescue your damsel?”