Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
THEO
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
A heavy fist pounds against the door as Boner goes nuts, and even though I can narrow down the culprit to one of about six people, I pull up the security app on my phone.
Sure enough, it’s the guys, freezing their asses off on my front porch.
I assume they’re here because I declined their offer to hang out after practice, just like I have every night this week.
They’re about to be sorely disappointed if they think they’re getting a different answer now, because I’m not leaving this couch until we head to Charlotte tomorrow night for the Divisional playoff game.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
“Boner. Relax.” It’s not even loud enough for him to hear, but I don’t care. I’ve got a pounding headache from the noise, and I used the last of my motivation on today’s pre-game run-through.
I watch on the small screen as Maddox hammers away, hoping that they’ll leave, but they don’t. Instead, Austin reaches out, pressing the doorbell, even though that hasn’t been successful for them yet, either.
“I know you can hear us, Calloway,” Emmett says into the camera. “We’re not going anywhere, so you may as well open up.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Bark. Bark. Bark.
“For fuck’s sake,” I growl, standing to my feet and walking toward the entryway. Boner is still losing his mind, running back and forth across the hardwood floor like a madman as I swing the door open.
“Can I help you?” I ask, my gaze bouncing from one guy to the other in question.
“Sure can,” Jett says, pushing his way past me with Maddox, Emmett, and Austin hot on his heels. The dog jumps up, his paw making direct contact with Maddox’s nutsack as a sharp exhale blasts from his lungs.
“Jesus Christ!” he cries, coughing as he doubles over in pain.
I should reprimand my dude for acting so wild, but honestly, this is the closest I’ve come to smiling since Finley left.
I’m pretty sure she took his manners with her when she did, because he’s been terrorizing the place ever since.
As if the constant barking, tipping of bowls, and shredding every one of his toys wasn’t enough, now we can add cup-checking my quarterback to his list of offenses.
“Anyway,” Jett continues as if his friend isn’t hacking up a nut right in front of him.
“We know you’re sad, but it’s team bonding night, and we won’t take no for an answer.
No crazy stuff—just us guys grabbing a couple drinks at a venue of your choosing.
Then you can come back here and do”—he looks around at my messy house—“whatever it is that you’ve been doing for the last five days. ”
I chew the inside of my cheek, one hand coming up to massage the back of my neck. “We haven’t been to a bar or club in months. Why, all of a sudden, do you want to go now?”
After Finley was fired, the group collectively decided not to continue frequenting Club Tilt, opting to have our bonding nights at home instead. So, they’re obviously up to something if they’re changing that now.
“Because,” Austin begins, “you’ve been sulking all week long, and according to the guys, you’re a ball of nerves on the field.
You’re slow, you’re missing easy tackles, and people are afraid to say anything because they don’t want to set you off.
” He leans in, his eyes flickering with understanding.
“I know it hurts, man, but give yourself a break.”
He’s right. I’m not giving it one hundred percent, and we’re two days away from what is—so far—the biggest game we’ve played together.
I’m on autopilot at practice, immediately returning home, where everything reminds me of them.
I’ve probably worn a path in the upstairs carpet that would give me away, since it’s a giant circle from the guest room to my room to the nursery, where I’ve spent the past two nights, unable to sleep as I rocked in the glider.
I didn’t even know it was possible to miss someone you’ve never met, yet there’s an aching emptiness in my heart whenever I’m inside those pale pink walls.
“Yeah,” I relent. “Okay. Just, uhhhh…let me take a shower and get dressed.” As much as I don’t have the energy to do anything, maybe a couple of hours away will help me reset so I can focus on my job.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to sleep when I get home, then it’ll be time to head to the Renegades’ facility and catch our bus to the airport.
We play the Cyclones on Sunday afternoon, and if we win, it’s onto the conference championship.
We’ve come too far to give up now. So, I need to show up for my guys, even though my personal life is a mess.
“Do you think you should slow down?” Austin says quietly as I throw back another shot, the amber liquor burning as it slides down my throat. My head is just fuzzy enough not to give a fuck about the pain I’ve been going through, and this is exactly where I want to be.
“Nope,” I answer, popping the p. “I feel fantastic, actually. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll try something different.
An oldie, but goodie.” He exhales heavily as I raise my hand, summoning our server.
She smiles, pushing her tits forward as she saunters our way, her dark eyes locked on me until she’s close enough for us to hear her.
“Hey, there, sweetheart,” she purrs, leaning forward with a palm flattened against the table.
“What can I get you?” She tilts her head, pulling her lower lip between her teeth in what I’m assuming is an attempt to look flirty, but that’s the last fucking thing I want tonight.
I’m here to forget, and I’m on my way to doing just that.
“Whiskey sour.” It’s a quiet grunt, and it comes out much ruder than I intended, but fuck. I need more alcohol in my blood…and fast.
Her expression falls slightly at my impersonal demeanor before she walks away, though I’m too buzzed to give a shit.
It’s all so unlike me. I’m usually wearing a happy face, but tonight, I don’t have it in me to pretend.
I just want to get hammered, go home, and pass out without having to suffer through another mental slideshow of Fin and the life we could’ve had.
Anything is better than that.
“Here you go,” the server says as she returns, setting the glass in front of me.
I give her a weak smile, murmuring something close to a thank you as I bring it to my lips.
I pause mid-motion, my eyes catching on the single cherry that floats on top of the ice-filled drink, and that’s all it takes for me to spiral again.
How about cherry, since I used to give you extras at the club, so you’d notice me.
Pain rips through me as Finley’s sweet words echo in my mind.
Desperate for something—anything—to dull the relentless ache, I toss the entire whiskey back, draining it in one go.
I’m grateful that the bartender poured with a heavy hand because the alcohol goes straight to my head almost as fast as I can swallow.
In an instant, I go from tipsy to drunk, my entire body warming as the sweet poison pumps through my veins.
Finally.
I sit quietly, my eyes falling closed as the guys’ voices begin to sound further away with each passing minute.
My fingertips tingle, and my legs feel heavy, a stark contradiction to the weightlessness in my head.
That’s the most important part, though, because it means that soon, I won’t feel anything at all.
“Hey, buddy,” Austin says, sounding almost as though he’s underwater as he nudges my shoulder. I do my best to focus, settling my blurry stare on his face as he speaks. “I’m going to give you a ride home. You ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah,” I croak, slowly scooting out of the booth. I’m unsteady on my feet at first, wrapping my fingers around Maddox’s shoulder for purchase until I can stand on my own. “I have to take a leak, though. I’ll be right back.”
Making my way down the hall that leads to the VIP bathrooms, I push through the door.
There’s just one other person inside, which is kind of surprising since this place is at least double the size of any other club I’ve been to.
As I pass by where he’s washing his hands, he turns, bumping right into me.
“Sorry,” I mumble. But when the fog that’s blurring my vision dissipates enough to see who’s in front of me, my gaze trained on the face I’ve grown to hate with a burning passion, I’m suddenly stone fucking sober.
“Moss,” I growl, anger flowing through my body like hot lava.
I haven’t seen him since before Finley told me she was pregnant, and how he reacted to the news.
Since then, I’ve fantasized about what I would do if we ever came face to face again, but now that he’s actually here, I’m too enraged to even speak.
He stares me down, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as my hands clench and unclench at my sides.
I can feel the muscles in my neck and back pulling taut as the emotion builds.
I want to tell him he’s a little bitch for not taking responsibility for his child, for denying the beautiful opportunity he was given, and for leaving Finley so broken and full of doubt that she walked away from me, thinking she had no other choice.
But still, nothing comes out when I attempt to say the words.
“You got something to say to me, Calloway?” he asks, stepping in so our chests are nearly touching. “Or is your mouth still full of my leftovers?”
I’m frozen where I stand, my arms like lead weights against my sides, even though I want nothing more than to beat his ass until he’s lifeless and bleeding all over this fancy marble floor.
I can feel the veins in my neck pop, my pulse beating like a drum between my ears, but it isn’t until he utters his next words that I finally snap out of it and return to the present.
“I was hoping she’d get rid of that fucking thing, but no such luck. Now it’s your problem.”
It’s as though I don’t even have control over my own body as I reach up, gripping the collar of his shirt and rearing my other fist back.
I’m blinded by fury as I prepare to knock his goddamn teeth out for talking about my family that way, but before I can connect, a set of giant arms wraps around me from behind and yanks me back.
A loud roar bursts from my lungs, and I thrash around like a wild animal trying to attack.
“Relax.” Emmett’s voice bleeds through the fury that vibrates my bones, his hold remaining firm. “We have a big game in two days. We need you, dude.”
“Fuck that,” I seethe through clenched teeth, my stare glued to the piece of shit in front of me. His chin is raised, that arrogant smirk returning to his lips, infuriating me even more. I want to end him for what he just said, and I’ll gladly suffer the consequences.
“Awww. C’mon, Calloway,” Eric mocks. “If you hit me, you’ll get arrested and probably kicked off the team. You don’t want that, do you? Then who’ll pay for that whore and her baby to survive? Sure as hell won’t be me.”
I see red, trying once more to rip from Emmett’s grasp, but before I can break free, Austin’s fist cracks against Eric’s face out of nowhere. Caught off guard, he falls to the floor, landing in a heap at our feet.
“Fuck,” he groans, a hand coming up to cover his eye. The skin is broken and bleeding, but my former teammate is far from done as he steps in and lands a single kick to Eric’s ribs. He curls up, coughing uncontrollably as Austin crouches down in front of him.
“Next time you decide to run your mouth, make sure there isn’t anyone else in earshot who has nothing to lose.
I may be retired, but the Renegades are all I have, Moss.
And I’ll gladly go to jail for any one of them.
” He sniffs, lowering his voice darkly, which shocks the hell out of me because I’ve never seen him like this.
“Now, what you’re going to do is get up, clean your face, and walk out of this club without a word.
And if you ever come within a hundred feet of Theo, Finley, or their daughter, I’ll show you just how fucking serious I am. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Eric grits out, spitting a clump of blood onto the floor between them. Apparently, that’s good enough for Austin, because he stands, towering over the sorry excuse for a man beneath him.
“Good talk,” he says with a nod. “Have a great night.”
And with that, he leaves the bathroom, all of us completely speechless as we follow.
I have no idea if Eric will actually keep his mouth shut about what just happened, but even if he doesn’t, we’re pretty well covered.
Sure, security cameras would show us going into the bathroom, but there weren’t any inside that could’ve captured Austin hitting him.
It would be our word against his if he really wanted to go public, although I doubt that he will, since he just got his ass handed to him.
He’s entirely too much of a douchebag to admit that.
Austin, who offered to be our designated driver for the night, takes us all home, the air around us a little bit lighter as he drops us off one by one. Since my house is the furthest, I go last, pausing as he puts his SUV into park outside my garage.
“Thank you for what you did back there,” I say quietly, fidgeting with the seam of my jeans. “My life is a fucking disaster right now. It feels good to know I’m not alone, though.”
He chuckles under his breath. “Who knew that uprooting my entire existence to come play in Ohio, just to have a career-ending injury in my second game, would give me a brand-new family?” He swallows, sorrow passing over his haunted gaze for just a moment.
“I meant what I said. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you guys. ”
“Thanks, Cap,” I reply, smiling softly. “We’re lucky to have you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Enough of this emotional shit. Get the hell out of here and go to bed. You have a game to win on Sunday, and I don’t want to see you dragging ass out there.”
“Good night, Baker,” I laugh, opening the door and heading toward the house. Things are still so fucked up, but after tonight, I know I have my brothers to lean on through it all. And that’s worth more than they’ll ever know.