Chapter 2
BASH
The ground is slick beneath my boots, and the air smells like wet grass and blood.
Perfect rugby weather. This sport is my way in with Livy. I just need to bide my time, and unfortunately I have a short fuse and a one-track mind.
I brace low in the scrum, shoulders tight, thighs burning as eight guys on the other side try to drive us backward. The pressure hits like a freight train, bodies grinding together while the pack strains for leverage.
“Hold!” Jeremy barks from behind us. He’s a shitshow everywhere else, except on this field. He’s the king around here, and it’s because he’s the golden boy of this team.
Number nine. Scrum-half. Loud mouth and tactical genius. Outside of rugby? I wouldn’t trust him to take care of my worst enemy’s goldfish.
I dig the studs on my boots deeper into the mud and drive forward through my legs.
The entire formation surges just like I intended it to.
The moment the ball rolls free, Jeremy snatches it cleanly and whips it out to Kalen like it’s nothing more than a casual pass across a backyard.
Number ten.
Fly-half.
He’s a little icy in all aspects of his life aside from his bratty stepsister who seems to live to annoy him. But he’s got a boot that can split the uprights from halfway across the field.
Kalen pivots instantly, scanning the defensive line while the crowd roars around us. St. Killian rugby draws over half the damn campus, and tonight the cobblestone lot is packed shoulder to shoulder with students who know exactly what kind of brutality they’re about to witness.
“Bash!” Kalen shouts.
I’m already moving.
I’m number eight, and to be honest I don’t give a fuck what Caiden had to do to or offer the guy who wore this number before me to get me this spot.
I sit at the back of the scrum and carry when things get ugly, which they usually do.
My job is pretty simple, just run straight through whoever thinks they can stop me.
Jeremy snaps the ball into my hands.
A defender lunges toward me.
I lower my shoulder and drive.
The collision cracks through my ribs, but I’ll take anything that gets me closer to having Livy in my grasp. His arms wrap around my waist, but I keep my legs pumping, dragging him three more yards before another player joins the tackle and they finally drag me down into the mud.
Bodies pile in.
The ruck forms instantly.
“Release!” someone shouts.
Jeremy snatches the ball, and we do it all over again. This team is fast and violent, and relentless, just the way I like it.
The rhythm settles into my bones like I’ve been doing this all my life.
Hit.
Drive.
Reset.
I barely hear the crowd anymore until something shifts. It almost feels like instinct, something I can’t put my finger on. There’s a strange prickle at the back of my neck that tells me my girl is near.
I glance up as the ball is in play again, and then I catch a glimpse of wavy blonde hair. The world doesn’t completely stop right then, but it might as well.
Livingston stands near the edge of the crowd, half hidden behind two girls I’ve studied enough to know they’re safe for her to live with. Her long blonde hair falls over her shoulders, catching the glow from the floodlights above the field.
Even from this distance, I can see the exact moment she notices me.
Her green eyes lift and lock with mine.
Everything inside my chest tightens so violently it almost knocks the breath from my lungs.
Livingston Rhodes is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life.
I’ve imagined this moment for years.
This isn’t the first time I’ve seen her, but it’s the first time she’s seen me, and nothing prepared me for the reality of it.
I can tell by the way she’s looking at me that she recognizes me on some level.
I didn’t expect her to instantly recall the boy she met one time a decade ago, but the fact that she doesn’t, levels me in a way I didn’t expect.
My girl is completely unaware of the way she owns every violent corner of my mind.
A defender slams into my side, and I barely feel it.
My entire focus is on my songbird.
I’m obsessed with the way her eyes widen slightly as he looks at me. Her lips part like she’s trying to figure out why the hell I’m staring at her like this.
Because you belong to me, baby.
“Vale!”
Jeremy’s voice snaps me back into the game.
The ball drops into my hands again.
I explode forward.
A defender grabs for my jersey, but I shove him off and cut hard to the left. Another player dives low at my legs, and I step over him before slamming into their defensive line like a wrecking ball.
They bring me down eventually.
They always do.
But I gain another ten meters before they manage it.
When I roll onto my back, I glance toward the crowd again.
Livy is still watching.
Still staring straight at me like she’s as haunted as I am.
The thought settles deep in my chest like gasoline on an open flame.
The next play resets fast.
Jeremy crouches beside the ruck, ready to pull the ball out again.
Kalen calls the next formation and some jackass on my team that I only know as McGuire jogs past me during the play. The field is loud, guys shouting, cleats tearing through the turf, but all of that is muted when he leans in just enough that only I can hear him.
“Dibs on the shy blonde watching us,” McGuire says, smiling like he hasn’t just signed his own death warrant.
He thinks this is a fucking game. He thinks I won’t spend my night breaking every bone in his body.
He has no idea the connections I have, the places I can dispose of a body even in a country I’ve lived in for such a short while.
In this life, it’s never what you do, it’s who you know.
I know this asshole would piss himself if he saw the fucking contact list I’ve built over the years with protecting Livy in mind.
I already knew he meant Livy before the sentence was fully out of his mouth. He can’t come back from this. I don’t give a fuck if he’s just messing around or if he thinks he’s being quirky or cute. Everyone’s got an expiration date, but his just got exponentially shorter.
I’m not surprised he noticed my interest in Livy.
I’ve been aware of her since the moment she stepped up to the sideline.
The way she stands a little apart from the others.
The way her eyes keep drifting back to me when she thinks no one is looking.
Everything she’s doing or isn’t doing has my entire body on fire.
I’m sure it shows, but he should have minded his own fucking business.
He’s been a pain in my ass since I arrived at St. Killian. Always chirping. Always trying to prove something. He probably saw me having a staring contest with my girl and now he thinks he can use her to irritate me.
He has no clue I’ve slit throats, broken legs, buried people alive for way less.
My twin brother, Tristan, is known for being ruthless, cold, calculated, and he runs with guys with worse reputations, depending on who you ask.
I helped out when needed, but I was never making a show of anything I was doing because my focus was on getting here with Livy.
That doesn’t mean I won’t take a half an hour out of my free time to torture him into understanding that in my world you don’t touch things that belong to other men. You don’t even look at them. And you certainly don’t threaten them.
Something feral takes over, and the next thing I know I’m on top of him, fists slamming into his face. The first punch lands before he even finishes turning toward me. His head snaps sideways, and I feel bone give under my knuckles. Then I hit him again. And again.
Someone grabs my shoulders.
Another guy wraps an arm around my chest, trying to haul me back. Hands are dragging me away and the whistle is screaming in my ears.
I barely feel it.
I hear someone yelling my name and then the name Nathan, which must be his first name.
My knuckles are slick with McGuire’s blood, and my tongue tastes like iron from the punch he must’ve landed on me. I never even felt it, I was that enraged that he was so entitled to think he could speak about her.
I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth and glance toward the sideline.
My girl, who doesn't know that she's my girl yet, is still watching me.
Her eyes are wide. Not scared. Just fixed on me like she’s trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
Blood drips from my lips as I grin at her like the fucking psycho I've become.
She needs to know that I'll protect her at any cost, and I’ll ruin anyone who thinks they can claim her.
I lift my chin toward her slightly, the smallest motion, but it's meant only for her.
Mine.