Chapter 7 #2
She ran down the field like she had been taken over.
Quinntessa lunged forward off the forty-yard line and became airborne.
It wasn’t like she was tall or anything.
Olivia was a skyscraper compared to most females our age, and not even she could use her long legs to run that fast. Quinntessa was barely taller than Erica, around my height, and somehow, she managed to make her legs stretch farther than my brain could understand.
She leapt into the air mid-stride and reached out for the ball with ready hands. It fell perfectly into her pink gloves without even the slightest struggle.
Quinntessa’s feet were barely on the ground before Sebastian barked another order at her. She spun in one direction, then another. Her cleats cut through the grass and followed paths I couldn’t see, taking off for the end zone faster than before.
If I were a guy, I’d have a huge boner right now. That was one of the hottest things I’d ever seen.
“Touchdown!” Quinntessa squealed as she crossed into the large box at the end of the field. She skipped around the painted ghost and swung her hips.
As if my jaw wasn’t greeting the dark father below me in pure shock, Quinntessa began to dance.
She rolled the football around in an impressive grip as her hand swung through the riff of an air guitar. Her hips swayed, and the messy loose ponytail of her curls bounced wildly.
Something I can smell.
I closed my eyes and imagined my nose filling with her perfume. If it was that strong in her car, I could only imagine what it was like after she practiced with those beautiful, long curls.
The bliss easing my unsettled state ate at the last of my anxiety long enough for me to open my eyes. Then, it felt like the world all crashed down again as Sebastian approached her. I didn’t care how proud he was of her. I fucking hated him.
“That’s my girl! Fly high, Arrow!” Sebastian jogged down the field. “Get it out, Cupid Q. Ooh-ooh.”
“That’s corny as shit.” Erica broke our silence and watched Quinntessa dance in the end zone, her father joining her silliness. “She caught one ball in the end zone, so what?”
“More than the Spirits had all last year,” Olivia pointed out, a sly smile directed against Erica’s sour expression.
Erica rolled her eyes. She turned to speak to me but stopped when my eyes flickered back to Quinntessa. I could feel her staring me down, the common glare of Erica Kane building the longer I toyed with my lip ring and watched Quinntessa swivel her hips.
I made the choice to ignore her. She wouldn’t understand, and most likely, she would yell at me if I ever did talk about what was happening behind the gates of the Harrekson home. I loved her too much to break our unspoken agreement to leave our family bullshit at the door.
As I predicted, Erica didn’t say a word for now. She turned back to Olivia and huffed at the blonde’s excitement.
When I caught myself staring a little too long, I ripped my eyes away from the girl. Speedy or not, Quinntessa’s form was shit. She didn’t know how to hold a bow at all. The new girl held an invisible bow and arrow in her hands and pretended to shoot it into the clouds above.
I grew up riding horseback through the woods on Dominik’s farm, shooting at targets with sharpened arrows until finally killing my first in-flight bird at nine. I knew how to hold a bow.
My fingers stuck through the chain-link fence as I watched her more closely. She walked down the field after talking to her father, the football in her hands. Her curls had escaped her ponytail in the front. Little strands framed her face while the others frizzed up along her flushed cheeks.
Metal flicked against my lip as I tongued at my lip piercing. I tugged the silver ring into my mouth as she pulled her shirt up with two hands and swiped the fabric down her face to rid her skin of her sweat.
I dropped my eyes to her stomach and nearly drooled at the sight.
Quinntessa was fit. She didn’t have rock hard abs, but no one really wanted those these days.
Not me, at least. I was perfectly fine standing here, admiring the way her cute tummy, and surprisingly cemeterial belly button, glittered in the sun.
She was like goddamn Edward Cullen out here. How much glitter did this kid own?
From afar, Quinntessa seemed exhausted. The lack of sleep from the night before must have been getting to her, but she hardly let it show. Her tawny, sun-kissed skin glimmered under the setting sun, glistening with sweat mixed with shards of glitter. I wondered how long she usually practiced.
Sebastian was ex-military. He must have pushed her harder than most of the football dads in town would. Quinntessa was caked with sweat, panting heavy enough that I could see her chest rise and fall without trouble.
I much preferred this view to the one I had last night.
“Quinntessa.” I tried the name on my tongue, eyes never moving from her.
Quinntessa.
Quinntessa Dawson.
Hm.
My gaze followed her hands as her stomach hid again under her shirt. Her fingers slipped down to her shorts, tugging them up her blushing thick thighs by the already short pant legs.
I swallowed and quietly muttered the only Russian curse word I could make out through my rabid thoughts.
“You think her dad got his bleach from Sally’s too, Quinnie?” Olivia suddenly blurted out.
Erica howled with laughter. She shoved Olivia’s arm and shook her head, muttering under her breath about how ridiculous Sebastian’s hair was compared to mine. I weakly laughed, only half focused on our new conversation as Quinntessa took off down the field again.
“I’m serious! They don’t even look alike.”
Erica smirked. “Oh, please. That was a jab, Ollie.” She snickered with a dashing little grin.
“It wasn’t meant to be mean! It’s. . . His hair is so uneven, and I don’t get how his wife lets him keep it that way.” Olivia pouted.
“Obviously, he has no wife,” Erica snorted.
Quinntessa caught the ball without fail the second time.
She grinned wildly over her shoulder as she slowed her run.
She was proud of herself. It was a nice thing to see after experiencing her vulnerability last night.
I might have misjudged her at first, but I was sure she had done the same.
She still gives me nervous glances in the mornings.
I’d have to introduce myself. Then, she’d give me that welcoming smile she wore on the field. I hadn’t seen her smile that way anywhere else. I needed an invitation inside, or I’d never gain what I needed to jab Sebastian back into his place.
He might have seemed like a good dad here, with the messy hair and dopey smile, but I knew better than to believe the fake poster perfect act. He was an undercover cop, after all.
My eyes follow her movements as she returned to her father at mid-field.
She was skipping. If she didn’t settle down, she might fly away before reaching him.
It was both disgusting and adorable, coming from a fellow senior.
Her smile wavered slightly as Sebastian spoke, irritating me enough that tension hoisted my shoulders back into place.
Couldn’t he just leave her the fuck alone and let her be all smiley?
Quinntessa nodded obediently before she handed him the ball and picked at her nails. Her fingers tugged at her shirt as she avoided her father’s gaze.
Why couldn’t I just kill him? He made rage boil inside me.
She wasn’t perfect, and the poor girl accepted that. If only she knew being perfect took more from her than being herself. I wish I had time to share my depressing life lessons with her. I was sure she had some traumatic history with her bastard father. Maybe we could have exchanged notes.
I didn’t care how hot my friends thought this guy was or how involved of a dad he appeared in this moment.
I didn’t give two shits what anyone told me.
I was the daughter of an authority, the legacy of our pakhan and blood family.
Satan bled within me. Even I knew she was better off dead than living under the same roof as a dirty cop.