31. Saint
Saint
“ L ate again,” Balkan mutters, staring ahead at the field as my jog slows to a stop next to him.
“My bad, Coach. I was up late last night.”
“Doing what exactly, Lavell? And if you spit out anything that involves a female I will personally cut your dick off.”
“Studying.”
Doubt telling him Russian whereabouts would make the pulse on his neck quit swelling.
“You think I’m an idiot?”
I shove the helmet over my head. “I do not, Coach.”
“What did I tell you? No more fucking chances.”
Keep. Your shit. Together. Saint.
It’ll be hard to run a team with a dead coach.
“Aw, c’mon, Coach. You should know ‘three strikes you’re out’ ain’t our game.”
He jerks to face me. “This is one big joke to you, huh, Saint?”
Not a damn joke in sight.
It was four in the morning when I finally called it quits on sleuthing. Five hours later being a dangerously short amount of time for us to play Fuck Around and Find Out.
“It won’t happen again.”
“So you keep saying…”
“I mean it this time.”
He eyes me with slit lids. “Well, you better prove it before we get to the championship, because Monohan’s been working real hard for my attention…and I may like what I’m seeing.”
This fucking guy Coby, you’d think he’d learn his place after I secured him a dental appointment on Fight Night.
I take a hard glance at the guy leading stretches, my stomach twisting in angry knots as I jog onto the field, ready to bring every motherfucker doubting me back to their knees.
This mad king may have been lost lately, but he’s not dead, and it doesn’t take long after I call the first hike to have Coby wishing I was.
Forty straight minutes of plays executed to royal perfection.
Throws smooth as silk.
Rushed touchdowns hitting Balkan like a spank on the ass.
No mercy for anyone. Not even Levi who’s hunched over and panting next to the rest of the civil servants.
“Now that’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ about,” Coach punches my arm. “My boy is back.”
“Your boy’s also punished pricks for less than doubting me.”
“Don’t go swingin’ your cock just yet, Lavell. You still got more to prove without room for error.”
Coach walks off, stealing not only my rebuttal, but the towel around my neck, spinning it in the air. It’s a petty show of power, since the asshole knows I don’t do community linens.
“Looks like someone’s got his groove back.” Levi approaches my side, holding out a clean towel.
I swipe it from his hand. “Never lost it, dick. Just neglected it.”
“Mhmm.” He eyes something over my shoulder. “And what about her?”
Like a full blown masochist, I follow Levi’s sight to the bleachers, where Hendrix is walking across them still in uniform with Archer. As always, my Jimi Hendrix tries to pretend she doesn’t notice me, this time behind a huge pair of round sunglasses.
I, however, gave up on the subtleties after we shared a look the other day by the tables. The three seconds it lasted being the most Hendrix has granted me in fucking forever.
It took every modicum of self-control I had left to not do something stupid like march over to Hendrix and force her to kiss me. Maybe then I’ll know why losing her is making me feel like I’m dying.
“Just go the fuck over to her already, man.” Levi shakes his head. “At least make shit right so you can be civil for your family.”
“Can’t.”
“Can.”
My teeth are bared and aimed at him. “Fucking can’t and you know it.”
“Then what about Theory?” he argues. “At least come clean so she’ll get off Hendrix’s back. Swear her to secrecy or some shit until you figure things out.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “You stay acting like you don’t know my little sister. Like you two weren’t best friends as kids just as much as we were.”
Something about what I said has Levi cracking his neck.
Probably the shock of common sense.
“What the fuck’s your point?”
“My point is, dumb ass, that the second I explain to Theory why I told her about Hendrix, how bad she really felt about what she said and everything in between, first thing she’s gonna do is run to the girl and try to be sisters again.”
He purses his lips. “Yeah…you can’t have that.”
“No, I fucking can’t.” Slapping the towel down on the bench, I add, “At least not yet.”
After a swift glance at Hendrix and Archer lost in homework, he pops his lips. “Guess there’s no point in telling you about Archer’s party then.”
“Party? When did this shit come about?”
And how the fuck didn’t I hear about it?
“No clue. I heard Theory and Annalie talking about how they’re crashing a party Archer’s throwing on his family's yacht tomorrow. I think by Crescent Point.” He shrugs. “Seems like you and me didn’t make the cut.”
As if that’ll fucking stop me.
Good Guy and his endless drunken festivities lately.
I’ve got to say he’s forming quite a resemblance to the missing Royal Heathen he despises.
As if Hendrix can sense her role in our discussion, she turns her head to face us, no doubt studying me behind the big sunglasses.
“Have you thought about when you’ll tell her?”
I pick up my duffle and throw it over my shoulder.
“Not until I know she’s safe.”
“Shit. But will she ever be?”
“In theory, no. But I made a promise.”
As my feet move toward the tunnel, so does Levi’s, his voice, like the night in The Pit, laced with concern.
“Yeah, I get that, man. But shit’s changed between you two.”
“That doesn’t mean I should fucking break it.”
“It’s just…you’ve already come a pretty long way. Getting better with your mental health and shit.”
“I’m not better. I’m dormant. There’s a difference.”
“You know what I mean.”
Side by side we enter the tunnel, and immediately Hendrix’s presence fades into the darkness around us. Becoming part of both my emptiness and growing frustration with my friend’s shit attempt at a pep talk.
“No, actually I fucking don’t.” I twist to face him. “So why don’t you enlighten me?”
Levi grinds his jaw, torn between guilt and regret for taking off his safety gear. “Look, you know I liked Hendrix even before she became your step-sis and… fling .”
My hand is at his throat before my duffle hits the ground.
“Hendrix was not a fucking fling.”
I’ve had flings with chicks. A ton of them. And not once have they ever gotten embedded this deep beneath my skin.
Rattled my cage the way Hendrix did.
Made me comfortable enough to show parts of me no one, not even my sister, has ever seen. In such a small amount of time too.
“Shit. I know, bro. That’s not what I meant.”
Levi is one of the very few people I’ve sworn allegiances to, therefore we both know the Saint in me would never take his anger further than a throttle and shove to his chest.
Which is what I do, making him stumble back. “You seem to be having a lot of fucking trouble with the things you mean.”
I pick up my bag and stalk off…Levi right on my tail. “You just seem calmer with the distance growing between you two.”
Says the asshole who insisted minutes ago I go speak to her.
“Did you forget what I did in September? Or do you need me to rip open Luke’s third degree burns?”
There’s only one truth about my distance from Hendrix—that it’s only good for Hendrix.
“Yeah, but you’ve adjusted. You’re doing alright.”
“I’ll be alright when all of this shit with the Salvinis and Ivanovs blows over.”
Levi nods, making it the first smart decision he’s made since practice. “Fair enough, bro. Fair enough.” He pauses. “But one question.”
“What?”
“How far will you actually go to keep this promise to Hendrix?”
The muscles of my jaw flex, and I can feel Levi’s anticipation as he studies my face, no doubt assuming I’ll take my time with an answer.
Weigh the scales of right versus wrong. Smart versus stupid.
I do none of the above. In fact, there’s not a second of deliberation needed because the answer to his question was obvious the night in The Pit. Seconds before I flicked the lighter and Luke’s body turned to flames.
“I’ll become the monster I never wanted her to see.”
With a slam of Theory’s bedroom door behind me, I stalk over to her as she braids the tinseled pieces of her hair. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting ready.”
“I told you multiple times you’re not going to this party.”
Annalie strolls out of the bathroom dressed in one of her easy access mini dresses as she sits in a chair next to my sister. The level of skank whore in it has my gaze slicing to Theory’s outfit.
Skinny jeans and a pink tube top. Not as trashy as Annalie’s but revealing enough to pull a growl from my throat. Theory knows better than to wear a top this fucking low to her chest. Last time she tried I burned every shirt without sleeves right in front of her.
“Take that shit off and put on pajamas.”
“Daddy said I can go.”
“I highly doubt that.”
With shoulders dropped, she turns to face me. “This isn’t the first time our family’s in trouble, Saint. Stop being so dramatic.”
My little sister must’ve lost her fucking mind.
Buried it somewhere up Annalie’s ass.
It’s the only reason she’d be stupid enough to announce a chink in the Lavells’ armor in front of an outsider.
“I mean, hello , end of junior year,” Annalie comments through a laugh, referring to the blowout with the missing Bratva princess.
Fuck this bitch. Her presence has not only just turned dangerous, but the example she’s setting for my sister is no longer one I’m willing to tolerate for the sake of my plans.
It’s been manageable for a while, given how clueless Annalie always was about the politics of the school, and the strict rules of their friendship Theory wasn’t breaking.
But now? My distractions have made my little sister not only defy me but become unrecognizable in the process.
The realization of how bad of an idea this was has regret and fury churning my insides.