Chapter 27 #3
She looks over her shoulder, her face gone pale white and blank. It’s the blankness that scares me. There’s no fear, no surprise, just utter vacancy as she grabs Cooper’s hand and drags him toward the parking lot.
“Allyson!” I holler again, louder this time.
She doesn’t turn around even though I see her shoulders creep an inch higher, so I know she heard me.
Michelle runs after her, telling Liam to come on.
“I’ll get her. Handle that.” She points at Kyle, who’s laid on the grass curled into the fetal position with his hands folded together under his cheek.
He looks like an angel except for the blood on his busted lip and the fact that it’s not even lunch time and he’s passed out drunk on a kids’ football field.
I don’t give a single flying fuck about Kyle.
He can choke on his own goddamn vomit for all I care.
My every cell is telling me to chase Allyson.
She’s a flight-er, but maybe now I know why.
Maybe running is her way of fighting, not a retreat but a move for preservation.
A smart strategy, but it kills me that she had to learn that.
Motherfucker! Not my Allyson.
Along with the urge to follow her is a desire to find this Jeremy asswipe and teach him a lesson or two on how to be ‘nice’ to women. He fucking deserves it. I take two steps, following Allyson’s tracks, when I hear a noise behind me.
Max clears his throat, louder this time. “Want me to call the police? He totally threw the first punch so I’ve got your back, Brutal.”
I look to Mr. and Mrs. Bloomdale, both of whom are sobbing openly and holding Killian against them as they do their best to plead with me through their watery eyes.
They’re their own little dysfunctional family in the middle of the chaos Kyle has created, trying to find something resembling normalcy for their grandson in the mess their son left behind.
“No, that’s okay. Thanks for keeping your shit together though. Speaks volumes about the man you are.” Some of the shock of the situation seems to have worn off, and he nods politely like this is just a normal post-game wrap-up.
“He’s obviously banned.” Max tilts his head to the snoring fucker on the ground. “If he shows up, the Wildcats will forfeit.”
“Understood.” I walk to the Bloomdales with my head held high, ready for their harsh words and judgment. But instead of contempt, I find sadness.
“Thanks for not calling the cops on him. He used to be such a good boy, but we lost him along the way. We’ll get him back to rehab again and pray this time it sticks.” Mrs. Bloomdale rubs Killian’s shoulder soothingly.
“Come on, Killian. We’ve got a team meeting real quick, ‘kay?” I look to his grandparents, who nod understandingly.
When Killian lifts his head, there’s a healthy dose of fear there.
I offer my hand anyway, feeling a real doubt about whether he’s going to take it.
He just watched me beat the shit out of his dad, so I’m probably the monster in his eyes.
But he looks behind me at his dad on the ground and then takes my hand. I can’t imagine what strength that requires. He’s got a core of good in him, this kid. His grandparents should be so proud because they’re the ones doing a damn fine job of instilling that in him.
I take a knee when I get close to the boys.
“Guys, I am so sorry you saw that. First and foremost, let me say that fighting is very rarely the right thing to do. Almost never, which is something that took me a long time to learn. I want you to learn from my mistakes and not have to make them on your own because they hurt . . . you and other people.” I hold up my hand, knuckles red from the punches, and look back at Kyle in the grass.
“On the other hand, you look out for each other—for the teammate beside you, for the person beside you, for what’s right.
You support and protect people when they need it and always do the right thing.
I know it might look ugly and even scary, but Kyle was being mean to Coach Allyson and I had to protect her. ”
‘Mean’ is putting what Kyle did so very lightly. I’m worried about Al, not just her emotions and reaction to the fight but her cheek, too. Did Kyle break a bone, hurt her eye, loosen teeth?
Fuck, I have to get to her. Now.
I need to hold her, check her over, and soothe whatever freakout she’s in the midst of. And I have some questions I’m going to need answered because I think it’s time to lay it all out. I’ve been patient. Fuck, have I been patient. But no longer.
Today might’ve made her scurry back into her shell to hide away from me, but if I have to, I’ll follow her into the depths of her mind and drag her kicking and screaming back into the sunshine and into my arms. She deserves that. I want to give that to her.
A bright future for the three of us.
I signal Mike, glad he could make the first game even if it’s all gone to hell in a handbasket. I point back at Kyle. “Help me with him, will ya?”
“Nah, we got him.” He points between himself and Bobby, who’s standing at the ready. Actually, with the snarl of wrinkles at the neck of his shirt, he looks like someone might’ve been holding him back from getting all up in my not-even-a-fair-fight with Kyle.
Bobby’s dark eyes meet mine, filled with emotion. I don’t need his apology. I can see straight into that guy’s mind, and half the time, predict what he’s gonna say.
“Go after Allyson and make sure she’s okay,” he growls.
His message is clear—she’s one of us now.
He might not get it, he might not trust her fully, and hell if I even know what made her run out of here looking like she’d seen a ghost. But he’s got my back when the shit hits the fan, no matter what.
“Thanks, man.”
And I’m off to get my woman. Because she might be a fleer-slash-fighter, but whatever she is, she’s mine. And I’m hers. And we’re gonna figure this shit out right now. Together.