13
“Coach’s daughter stole the gun,” I told Ezrah as I sat down beside him in the games room.
“Are you fucking serious?” my brother barked, putting the game on pause as Cole’s head swiveled faster than a kicked football.
“What gun?” murmured, “Why do you have a fucking gun here? You’re gonna get kicked out, man.
You know the campus police watch you more closely than the rest because of who your father is. ”
“Fuck the campus police,” I snarled, “We can pay them off. I’m more concerned about the team. She tried to bribe me, but she’s too stupid to think it through deeply, but she could go to her daddy and snitch on me or something, so he dropped me as captain.”
“Nah,” Ezrah snarled, “That will never happen, bro. Coach knows who our father is, so he’d be too chickenshit to drop you. Forget her,” he waved his hand dismissively, “At least we know where the gun is, so we could send Lev to break into her room to grab it.”
“How did it go with the detective?” I asked him, knowing that the detective was chasing his tail, and Cole interrupted, “Are we still playing here, or should I get a sandwich?”
“Nah, we’re good,” Ezrah answered, then said to me, “I didn’t go.”
“What?” I hissed at him. “That’s the second time you didn’t turn up. You’ll look more suspicious than you already do.”
“I had stuff to do,” he stated firmly, but I didn’t believe him. I stumbled across him fucking the Boleyn girl in the library of all places, and I jacked off in the bathroom afterward.
I hadn’t taken much notice of her physically, as my only interest was who her father was, which made her our enemy and someone we had to watch constantly.
But then I saw the way she was being pummeled, and I was conflicted between liking what I saw and hating it.
Not because she’s not fuckable, but because her father put our father in prison, and Ezrah was too fucking stupid to foresee the problem that may arise in the future if we get emotionally tangled up with the enemy.
Fuck, our father won’t stay in prison forever, and if he discovered that his youngest son was fucking our enemy, he’d hit the roof.
Jeez, sometimes Ezrah behaves like his brain is in his cock.
I wanted to raise the subject and ask if he used a rubber because imagine Ez knocking up that chick and then having to tell our father.
“Like what?” I pressed to see if he’ll mention the Boleyn girl.
“Gym training. I had a client booked in, and I couldn’t change it,” was his excuse, and I wasn’t buying it.
“Why couldn’t you change it?” I scrutinized because I wasn’t buying his bullshit.
He shrugged like he didn’t give a shit, “FYI, I told Adina that the Yorks are her stepmother’s nephews.”
“Bro, what’s that got to do with anything? We’re not talking about that skank; we’re talking about your interview with the detective. Fuck, bro, you’re a worry.”
“Sick, she’s not a skank. Why are you calling her that for?” he argued, and I cringed in surprise at him sticking up for her. “She’s traumatized by her father’s death and what we did to her.”
“Bro, I don’t give a shit about Adina fucking Boleyn,” I snarled as Cole swayed back and forth in his chair, enjoying our argument. “The girl was trau-ma-tized,” I mocked him, “Jeezus, bro, pull your fucking head in.”
“She is,” he rationalized as I lost my patience and stormed out of the room to grab my gear to head down onto the field for practice.
“The state of it,” I snarled as I ran up the stairs, and my phone vibrated in my pocket to find my mom’s flashing up on my screen. I ignored it and switched my phone to silent, grabbed my gear, and ran down the stairs again.
When I swung the door open, Coach’s daughter was standing there, and I shot her a glare as I stepped past her. “Ah, Nicolae, I was wondering if we could have a private chat?”
“Nope,” I said as I walked to my bike parked out front after retrieving it from Ezrah, who had moved into Morgana. I was thinking about doing the same thing, except I liked living in the house with my teammates up on the hill, where we can look out across campus.
“Can I talk to you, please?” she was begging now.
“Nope,” I spat, climbing on my Honda and turning the key to start the engine.
“Please, Nicolae. I came to apologize,” she yelled over the engine.
I snorted, “Not interested in your apology,” I barked, and began rolling backwards until she ran behind it, and I had to squeeze the brakes to stop the tire from leaving a tread imprint on her leg.
“Here, I’ll give you the gun back. It was dumb. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she sighed, plunging her hand into her bag. “I have it in here.”
Okay, now we’re really getting somewhere. “Don’t take it out. Someone will see.” What was she thinking? I yanked the gun out of her hand, glad she gave it back, and made sure the safety cap was on before I slipped it into my bag—stupid, irresponsible idiot.
“I wanted to make a deal,” she suggested, as I stepped back toward the frat house and caught a flash of someone running behind the house into the bushes near the basement door.
“Are you here alone?” I stressed, wishing she’d just fuck off. “
“Yes. Why?” she answered, confused. Crazy chicks like her were capable of anything, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole ‘bringing the gun back to apologize’ was a setup.
“Nothing,” I said, walking back inside, slamming the door on her face, then poked my head into the games room to show Ez that I had the gun. When he gave me the thumbs up, I pointed to the back of the house. “We’ve got company.”
Ezrah and Cole shot up off their seats. Ezrah grabbed a baseball bat while Cole grabbed a golf club; both were leaning against the wall at arm’s length. “Is the basement locked?” I asked them, and they responded with shrugs and blank looks.
We crept outside onto the front balcony, and were disappointed to see Coach’s daughter was lingering about on the footpath as if she was undecided where she was waiting for someone.
She glanced back at the Lud, and I followed her stare to find Conrad standing on the balcony looking at her.
Once they realized that I had noticed, they broke their gaze.
If Conrad wanted to cheat on his girlfriend and fuck her, be my guest. In fact, he’d be doing me a favor to get her out of my face.
Yet, when I glanced at Conrad again, I had the feeling something else was going on, but I didn’t care enough to ask; besides, we had more important matters to deal with.
Cole jumped off the balcony and casually peered around the corner to a cluster of bushes, then he shot us a look, “In the bush,” he mouthed.
“I’ll run around to the back and blindside them,” Ezrah offered.
“Be careful, bro, I can only see one person, so there might be more lurking,” Cole told him.
“I bet it’s those fucking Yorks,” Ez mumbled, jumping off the balcony and disappearing around the opposite side of the mini castle.
Cole kept peering around the side of the building, then he signaled before disappearing.
I followed to find the hooded stranger had come out of their hiding place, and Ez had cut them off.
Even though their head was covered, it was obvious this was a girl and not who we first suspected.
She backed away from the towering frame of Ez to turn around and slam right into it. “Who do we have here?” Cole said, pulling the hood off the wriggling fish.
“Adina?” Ezrah said in surprise. “You didn’t need to sneak around. You could've just knocked on the door.”
“Put her in the basement,” I told them, “Lock the door, and we’ll deal with her later.”
“No,” she shrilled, struggling against their hold on her, then she tried to kick Ez between the legs, but he managed to move out of the way before her shoe made contact.
After seeing the Boleyn girl getting railed by my brother in the library and now fighting like a wild cat against restraints, honestly, it was making me hard. But I had to focus on practice and had no time to deal with her, and I was already running late.
“Make sure she doesn’t leave,” I asserted, shooting a sharp look at Ez, who might feel sorry for her. Then I paused, got off my bike again, and ran back inside to grab the basement key hanging on a hook by the front door. There was a second key somewhere, but it was misplaced last season.
When I came back, the boys were standing there reluctantly holding her arms, and again she tried to kick me, but missed. “You fucking scum,” she snarled.
“Charming,” I sniggered, “You were snooping. You must be punished.”
I was a little confused by this change in mood, as it was only later on today that she liked my brother enough to get fucked by him, but maybe the shit with her father had messed her up.
“Punished? Piss off,” she growled as I opened the door, directing the boys to guide her down the stairs. “You drugged and kidnapped me, remember? It should be me punishing you.” Her angry voice grew distant as they descended the stairs.
“I haven't forgotten,” I replied, coldly. “I organized it.”
“Warwick scumbag,” she shouted, and I cracked up laughing.
“Hurry up,” I yelled at the boys as I was worried they might sympathize with her. Once they ran back up the stairs, I slammed the door shut behind them and turned the key. Then I popped the key in my pocket, so I was the only one who had access to the basement and to her, the Boleyn girl.
Solid banging at the door serenaded me as I walked back to the Honda and left for practice, riding past Coach’s daughter, who was still wandering around lost as if waiting for someone.
I stalled my bike again, frustrated that I was already late and Coach would be pissed, but I messaged Ez: Watch Coach’s daughter. I think she’s up to no good.
I rode away with a smile on my face, looking forward to getting back to the frat house so that I could spend some alone time with the Boleyn girl.
As expected, Coach was pissed that I turned up late as the guys were already on the field warming up, and he flicked his finger at me as if to say, “Get out there now.”
James spat, “Slack captain, can’t even turn up on time.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled casually back, unaffected by the Yorks' dumbass comments, but then glanced at Coach to see if he was watching, and he was. Damn.
Even though I hated the Yorks almost as much as I hated the Boleyns, when we were on the field, all disagreements had to be brushed aside for the team, and as captain, I had to set the standards.
But I did look forward to arriving back at the frat house to be greeted by the angry girl in the basement.