Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Leo
“What the fuck was that?” Mitchell rounds on me the second I step out of the shower area with the towel around my hips.
“Fuck off,” I seethe. I’m still seeing red. Seen it since the afternoon Mina told me to shove it a week ago.
He’s pissed. I’m pissed. We’re all fucking pissed.
And if any one of my teammates isn’t currently pissed, they’ll be drowning their sorrows within the next hour.
We fucking lost—a home game—which means we’re done for the goddamn season. Eliminated. There was no universe where we were going to win, so who gives a shit that I started a pileup with the other team two minutes before the game ended?
Coach already gave me two earfuls. No one else did. They’re more embarrassed about the other team’s landslide win than the embarrassing—petulant, as the owners called it—display I started.
I couldn’t give a flying fuck about losing. My fight response has had a hairpin trigger all week, and what I don’t need is someone in my face when they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about.
Mitchell grabs my arm. He took Jack fucking Norton’s side. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten. “You need—”
I shove him back.
“Duval.” Coach’s voice echoes like a whip through the room.
I throw my hands up and back away, keeping my head down. Usually there’s music playing in the locker room, chatter, laughter. But now no one talks unless it’s to pick a fight.
Everyone’s been avoiding eye contact with each other since the final quarter when we realized we weren’t going to turn it around.
I yank my briefs on, then shove my legs into my dress pants. I’m not fucking around with the press today. Screw this team and every asshole who thinks Jack is God’s gift to mankind. I can’t work around Jack or any other bastard who sees me as nothing more than dirt because of that asshole.
My teammates will pass to me when they need to, but we’re not friends. There’s no real camaraderie between us like I’ve had on the other teams I’ve played for. Being close to Sabrina and Mitchell isn’t worth this shit.
If tonight is the last time I see any of these dickheads, it’ll be too soon. Our season’s ended. There’s no need for me to stick around and chat. We fucking sucked tonight. So what? I have zero fucks left to give for this team.
My mood sours as I think about how some of these cunts get to go home to their woman, or some other warm body to keep them company. My house is still empty, and I can barely smell her scent in my bed anymore.
The anger rises in me, and it’s hard to keep it reined in when every single sound sets me off. I tug on the rest of my clothes, needing to get out of here before I leave this team on a suspension rather than a trade.
My jacket isn’t even on, and I’m already out the door. I don’t want to stay in this goddamn city for one more night if it’s not with Mina. Someone calls my name. I don’t respond, powering through the tunnels.
I make it as far as the parking lot before a hand grabs my arm and whips me around. My arm flies out, pushing them back, but they stay put.
“This is because of her, isn’t it? I told you to stay away.” Jack is in my face.
He chose the wrong night to have this talk. I haven’t been playing friends with him for the past week, and he’s at least had the brain cells to pick up that it wasn’t the time to approach me. The entire team has steered clear.
The first game after she broke up with me was better than tonight’s performance because this is my first day back in Detroit since then. Time isn’t fixing this. I don’t sleep, I don’t feel like fucking eating, and I’ve been doing everything within my power to find out what made her switch gears.
The timing doesn’t add up.
She posted my gift online saying she had a boyfriend, then she turns around and tells me to leave?
It’s either Jack or her mother. I fucking know it is.
“I don’t know what the fuck you did, but once I find out, you’re a fucking dead man. You hear? You shouldn’t have gone near her.”
“What are you—”
Every single word out of this asshole’s mouth is a lie. I drop my bag and lunge for him. My hand finds his shirt, and I slam him against a nearby car before I can think it through. His face twists in pain, and it’s the first inkling of joy I’ve felt in days.
“My family wasn’t enough for you?” I snarl. “All of my friends, old girlfriends? Taking them away from me didn’t satisfy you, so you had to go after the one good thing, you sick fuck.”
He coughs. “Mina’s bad news—”
“You don’t get to fucking say her name!” I yell in his face, shoving him into the car again.
I don’t give a fuck what he does or says after this.
He can pull whatever card he wants—I’m out.
This game is done. “You ruin everything you go near. My greatest regret will always be becoming friends with you. I’m going to fix this with her.
And if you screw it up for me, all bets are off.
If you think you’re fucked in the head, you have no idea what I’m capable of. ”
I push him away, then step back before I do something that’ll severely backfire. The fraying thread holding my control together is seconds away from snapping.
Jack looks at me with a mixture of hurt and betrayal. Warning bells ring in my head at the familiarity of his expression—it’s how he reacted right before turning my family against me.
I’m too far gone to take it back. I’m done playing on the outs. If he retaliates, I’m taking everything he’s ever loved.
Footsteps echo in the distance. I snatch my bag off the ground with every intention of leaving.
Jack scrambles to his feet and yells at my back, “You don’t want to do this.”
I pause. Turn slowly to look at him over my shoulder. “Are you threatening me?”
“I only want what’s best for you.” The most messed-up part is that he genuinely believes it.
“The best thing you can do is make sure I never see your fucking face again,” I tell him, leaving him standing there.
I’m going to request a trade, and I’m taking Mina with me. She won’t get a say in the matter. I don’t accept her rejection, and I sure as shit won’t take any of the pathetic excuses she threw at me.
I slam the car door behind me, then fire up the engine. My phone rings the moment I start reversing. This week just keeps getting better and better. Gritting my teeth, I hit Answer.
“What?” I bark.
The PI doesn’t react to my rage, keeping his tone professional. “Does the name Jeremy Holstead mean anything to you?”
I told Mina that nothing she could do would make me leave her. I am many things, but I’m not a liar. Someone broke into her house. Whatever happened after that led to her pushing me away. I’m going to find out who’s to blame.
“Should it?” I respond, gassing it down the road. If I hit Jack on my way out, then I hit him.
“The police took him into custody this afternoon and have charged him for the home invasions,” the PI explains.
My grip tightens around the steering wheel. “Is he the one who broke into Mina’s home?”
“They haven’t found any evidence yet, but he’s their prime suspect.”
So it still could’ve been Jack? “Let me know once they’ve charged him.”
“Mr. Duval, there’s something you should know.” I purse my lips, wishing he’d speak faster. “My informant on the force said the police have found information to suggest Holstead’s been blackmailing his victims.”
“In exchange for what?” My blood runs cold. Is that what pushed Mina?
“It’s unconfirmed at the moment, but it seems he’ll go for anything. Money, graphic images, general games—whatever it is that makes him feel powerful.”
Nausea churns in my stomach. “Do you have anything on Norton?” I’m not ready to discount him.
“Still nothing.”
I adjust my grip on the wheel. “Keep looking into him. He’s not innocent.”
“We’ll continue digging.”
If Jack’s track record proves anything, it’s that he’ll be back.