Chapter 21 Bash
BASH
Down here on the field, everything feels more intense, and I enjoy that part of the game. But really, the only thing I care about is seeing my girl over on the side, wearing my jersey and cheering for me to win this fucker for her.
But so far there’s no sign of her, and that’s more agitating than I want to admit. If she backs out, and I don’t get to see her during the game, I’m going to beat the fuck out of Jeremy. He isn’t at fault, he was just annoying me in the locker room so that feels fair.
The ball lands in my hands, and I drive forward immediately, tucking it tight against my ribs as I push through a wall of opposing jerseys.
Someone grabs my shoulder, but I twist free, lowering my center of gravity as I power through.
For a split second, the line breaks open in front of me, and I sense the crowd of students jump to their feet as I take off down the sideline.
I should be so hyped up right now, but even as I sprint, something inside me is off. My eyes flick instinctively toward the stands.
Searching for the only person I want to see.
She should be here.
She promised, and I know she wouldn’t break a promise if something wasn’t wrong.
I push the thought aside and focus on the play.
The coach is cool, but he’s probably not going to be if I walk off the field mid-game to go find my girl.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do if I can’t find her.
At the last second, I pass the ball off to my teammate charging up beside me.
The impact hits me a split second later, someone drives a shoulder straight into my ribs and sends me crashing into the dirt.
The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. A pile of bodies, the heaviest motherfuckers on the planet apparently, follows before the whistle finally blows and the ref waves everyone back.
I push myself up off the grass, mud clinging to my jersey as the teams reset.
Across the field, shoulders lock together and the next play forms, muscles straining as players brace for impact. When the whistle blows again, the line surges forward, and the sound of the collision echoes across the stadium.
There’s something about rugby that makes everything feel more brutal than hockey. And I make a mental note to give my twin brother shit about it the next time I see him.
He’s been slow to answer his texts lately, which isn’t uncommon. He’s got his girl, Winter, stuck to him like glue, so I’m sure he’s happier than he’s ever been in his life.
I shove forward with the rest of my team, teeth gritted as we fight for ground. The ball changes hands twice before we break through the defensive line and push toward the try line again.
The crowd explodes when we score.
My teammates clap my back as we jog back into position, but my attention drifts again.
My eyes scan the stands.
Still no Livy.
A knot forms slowly in my chest.
The next play starts, and I throw myself back into it, tackling one of their forwards hard enough that we both go down in the grass. The whistle blows and the teams reset again, but my focus keeps slipping.
Every time I look up I’m searching the same section of the stands.
Looking for blonde hair.
I scan farther across the stadium, letting my gaze sweep the other sections.
Riven isn’t there, and neither is his wife. She was supposed to be getting ready for the game with Livy and the other girls. That alone steadies something in my chest.
If something had actually happened to Livy, Riven would have already let me know. He wouldn’t fuck shit up with Caiden for any reason, so none of this makes sense.
I’ve gotta get out of here. I’ve gotta get eyes on her and make sure she’s okay.
I start walking off the field knowing that when the coach notices he’s gonna be mad as fuck.
I snicker at the thought of his face turning red.
He’s already pissed at me for beating Nathan up.
I look back at the group of guys playing and realize I don’t remember seeing him in the locker room.
I look ahead again and something catches my eye near the edge of the field.
Two figures standing near the barrier.
For a second, my brain doesn’t quite process what I’m seeing.
Then recognition hits me so suddenly it feels like I’ve been popped in the face by a teammate's shoulder.
Tristan. That lying motherfucker. He sounded bored the last time I spoke to him, telling me he didn’t have any big plans coming up. I believe he used the term “just hanging out.”
My twin brother is standing at the edge of the field, Winter is beside him, tucked comfortably against his side.
My brain struggles to catch up with what my eyes are telling me.
A grin spreads across my face before I can stop it. I take off toward them without thinking, mud still clinging to my cleats and jersey. He’s going to be pissed when I hug him in that crisp white shirt he has on.
“What the fuck, Tristan?” I breathe when I reach them.
He barely has time to answer before we collide.
“Don’t you fucking–” too late, my arms wrap around him, but it only lasts a second.
Because we’re us.
Tristan shoves me back first, and I shove him harder, both of us throwing punches to each other’s shoulders like we’re kids again.
“That’s for calling me that one morning,” Tristan growls, though the smirk tugging at his mouth ruins the threat.
I laugh and swing at his ribs again before glancing over at Winter. She doesn’t look alarmed, but she looks annoyed, and I would venture to guess she probably picked out his pristine outfit that now has mud all over it.
“Is he at least leaving his phone on now?” I ask her.
She shakes her head immediately in the negative.
Figures.
Seeing the two of them together in front of me feels strange in the best possible way. Most of our time together has been reduced to weekly video calls where we play chess and pretend everything is normal.
Seeing them here in person makes the distance feel smaller somehow.
Then Tristan suddenly grabs Winter’s hand and shoves it directly into my face.
A ring glints under the stadium lights.
I stare at it for half a second before the grin spreads across my face again.
“You did good, brother.”
I clap him on the shoulder and glance back at Winter.
“You can definitely do better than my brother,” I tell her lightly, “but since you insist on sticking with him, I’m glad you at least got a nice ring out of it.”
“I’ll fuck you up again in front of your friends,” Tristan mutters, though he’s clearly joking.
“How long are you staying?” I ask because I’ve gotta go find my girl and find out why she didn’t show up tonight. I know she’s safe because Riven is on watch, but something tells me I need to go to her immediately.
“Just stopping by,” Tristan says without hesitation.
Neither one of us are big on small talk for a lot of reasons. We know each other better than most, so neither of us are offended. I can’t help the disappointment that flickers through my chest. I wish they could stay. I wish things were different, but I’m glad I got to see them.
I’m about to tell them I have to run, but I see Winter open her mouth and then hesitate beside him, like she’s debating whether to say something.
Then she looks directly at me.
“Sebastian… I know you’re not going to like this,” she says carefully. “But the girl you’ve been watching…” Winter is still speaking, but my ears are ringing, and I’m not computing what she’s saying on any level in which I can respond.
Everything inside me goes still as she tells me about her interaction with Livy.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. She’s going to be pissed about the cameras, and I was going to tell her about them, but I wanted to ease her into it.
I want my girl to be happy. I want her to be the happiest person on this earth, but the cameras are non-negotiable. I must have an eye on her at all times.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
The curse slips out before I can stop it.
“Fuck, fuck.”
“How long ago?” I ask, though I barely hear my own voice, and if I’m honest, I’m not really paying attention to what they’re saying.
“Fuck,” I mutter again, running a hand through my hair as frustration coils tight in my chest. Now I have no way to monitor her.
Tristan watches me carefully.
“Who is after her?” he asks. “I know her parents were murdered, but why exactly is she here?”
I barely glance up from my phone.
“I guess the better question is who isn’t after her,” I say quietly. “And now she has no protection.” I need to get my phone and see if Riven has sent me anything.
My brain is already moving through possibilities, trying to figure out where Livy could be and how quickly I can reach her. She’s used to packing up quickly and moving without notice. I am going to be a fucking monster if she’s disappeared on me again.
“What do you need?” Tristan asks. “We can stay. I can make some calls.”
Winter nods beside him, but my focus is already somewhere else to be able to answer their questions.
I’m already ten steps ahead with three separate scenarios.
My eyes lift and lock with Tristan’s.
“Whatever it fucking takes.”