Chapter 11
Eleven
Wolf
I only played Assassin’s Creed when I really needed to lose myself in a game, but that night, I couldn’t focus for shit.
Everything about Jade’s being at The Platinum Club in that skimpy-ass dress bothered me.
That bar was where the lowest of low-lifes went.
A front for a strip-club where a guy could pay a quick buck for a fuck.
The only women I had ever seen in that place were there for one reason and one reason only…
Which was why, when I’d seen her in that bar, talking to some random guy, I almost got up and dragged her ass out of there.
And I would have had Brent not popped up behind her.
By the time I’d made the deal and looked back at the bar, Jade was shoving her way through the crowd, Brent’s bitch ass right behind her.
I hated the way she laughed at him. Almost as much as I hated him touching her.
He didn’t deserve her. To be fair, though, neither did I.
It was something I’d known since the moment I’d first laid eyes on her in high school.
Again, when I’d shown up at her house, her dad had greeted me by telling me what I already knew, that she was too good for me.
She had always been a little sliver of heaven in a life full of hell.
She’d given me hope when nothing else could.
And that was where I’d really fucked up—putting all of my hope in a person who had none in me.
Dog hopped off the couch and went to the front door, glancing back at me. I paused the game, checking the time.
Two minutes past eleven.
She’d missed curfew, and as far as I knew, was with Fuckface Brent. Jealousy wound through me. He’d cheated on her, and that motherfucker still had her attention. If I ever wanted proof that I was just as worthless as I’d been told, that was it.
The chirp of crickets and humid air wrapped around me when I stepped onto the porch. Dog pulled on the leash, digging his paws into the grass as he mushed toward the neighbor’s yard. “You aren’t getting off the leash. We both know you just want to run off and eat their chickens again.”
The entire walk around the block—where he refused to take a shit—I replayed Jade saying, “Nothing I’ve done has been because I don’t care.
” To be honest, that had sent my head into a tailspin.
She hadn’t come to my dad’s funeral; she’d acted like I didn’t exist, and all because she’d cared ?
It made zero sense, and damn if I didn’t want to stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about her.
Dog stopped at a trash can, gave it a sniff, then squatted just as headlights turned onto the street.
A junk car I didn’t recognize rolled up in front of the frat.
It hadn’t come to a complete stop before the back door flew open.
Cassie shot out, followed by Jade, and they took off in a sprint toward the front door.
My attention went back to the car now creeping along the curb.
When it passed, I met Brent’s glare through the driver’s window, and my jaw tensed. Hard. Brave little cocksucker to give me a death stare like that.
Dog pulled on the leash, but I couldn’t look away from Brent’s fading taillights. I wanted to take a rock and chuck it through the back window. Truth be told, given the chance, I’d set his new piece of shit car on fire with him in it.
My annoyance grew with each step toward the house. Jade had not only been at the bar with him, she’d had him drop her off—at my house. Five minutes past curfew.
By the time I opened the front door, that annoyance had grown into full-blown, irrational rage.
I unfastened Dog from his leash, and, of course, the little shit took off toward the kitchen.
His oh-my-God-you’re-home Shiba screeches filled the silence, followed by Jade greeting him.
She had been at the bar with that cocksucker, and not only did my dog smell of her, he now liked her more than me.
That was too much. It was the flaming match tossed into the powder barrel, causing my emotions to blow the fuck up.
When I rounded the corner, I found Cassie rummaging through the pantry.
Jade was crouched by the counter, petting my traitorous dog, that short-ass dress riding up her thighs.
I told myself to focus on the rage, willing the blood flow to shift away from my hardening dick.
God, that woman could do a number on me. That was for damn sure.
A floorboard creaked beneath my foot, and Cassie turned from the pantry with a bag of chips in her hand. “Uh…” She studied my face for a moment, then a small frown creased her forehead. “Hi?”
“You’re late,” I said.
Jade pushed up, checking her watch. “It’s only five past, and?—”
“Doesn’t matter if it was one minute past.” I hated that I sounded like a dick; hated even more that the real reason for my sour mood was Brent-Lays-Down-Good-Dick-Cheating-Asshole Baker.
Her eyes narrowed. “My car wouldn’t start.”
She’d seen me in that same bar. She could have called me, but instead, she had chosen to take a ride from him. The thought of that asshole waltzing up to her car, all smiles, ready to save the fucking day, had my jaw ticcing.
“I don’t give a shit. I let you out of that auction. The least you could do is be on time.” And not be with him.
The pantry door clicked shut. “Who pissed in your Cornflakes?” Cassie said, but my attention was still on Jade in that damn dress.
My glare cut to the blonde devil. There was a small part of me that blamed her for all of this.
The drugs…having Jade in my house. Did I care that they were late?
No. What I cared about was the uncontrollable jealousy buzzing through my veins like an angry hit of heroin.
I’d lost control of everything: my grades, my life, and now my own emotions.
My attention flicked back to Jade’s accusing gaze. “You want to screw around with that piece of shit? Fine.” I turned toward the dining room. “But don’t bring him around my house again.”
“So, that’s what this is about.” Her voice followed me, as did her footfalls.
I hated that it was that obvious.
“I’m not screwing around with him. Maybe you can’t get a ride off someone without fucking them, but I definitely can.”
I passed the dining table, ignoring her comment about me fucking anyone. “Walk back next time for all I care.”
“Then we’d have been an hour late! Which is it, Wolf? You want us on time? Or you just want to make my life difficult?”
I spun around, and Jade froze a few feet behind me. “What the hell were you doing at that bar, anyway?”
“What? We aren’t allowed to go for a drink now?”
Going for a drink at one of the roughest bars in Pikestown? Bullshit. “You expect me to believe you went to The Platinum Club for a drink?”
Her gaze dropped to Dog as he trotted past, and she shrugged. “It’s just a bar…”
And she was just my ex. I needed to let it go.
As luck would have it, the next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot behind the practice field, Fuckface Brent’s “new ride” was parked right beside my usual spot.
I got out of my truck and kicked the bumper on my way past his rusted piece of crap. It creaked before clattering to the asphalt. Maybe I would pull a Jade and torch that shit.
That thought put a little pep in my fucking step. Seriously, I was going to set that shit on fire.
The door to the locker room cracked against the wall, banter and the bang of lockers filling the space. I dropped my duffel bag onto the changing bench.
“Heard there will be scouts at this weekend’s game,” Williams said, tugging his jersey over his head. “You nervous, Brookes?”
“Nah…” That was a lie. I changed into my practice uniform, stressing about the possibility.
Sure, I had 4.45 forty, twenty-one touchdowns last season, and led the conference in yards after contact.
But knowing scouts would be there would put nerves in anyone’s gut, and nerves could screw things up.
Back in high school, the only reason I fumbled the ball—not once, but twice—at the state championship was because I knew university scouts were in the stands.
Getting scholarship offers had been life-changing, but nowhere close to as life-changing as being drafted by the NFL would be.
A scholarship led to a degree. A draft led to money my poor ass couldn’t even fathom.
“Hey, Brookes!” Brent’s voice rose above the clang of lockers.
A sick excitement stirred in my gut when I turned and saw Brent shouldering through the other guys toward me, his chest all puffed out. If that idiot wanted a fight, I would be more than happy to oblige.
“I don’t know what you’ve got on Jade,” he said, his pussy ass stopping a few feet away from me. “But I know she’d never willingly have anything to do with your stupid frat.”
I took a step forward. The banter in the locker room silenced, and Dickface’s wannabe-badass expression wavered.
“What the fuck did you just say?” I squared my shoulders, and his face paled a little.
Instead of backing off, suicidal determination fell over his ugly mug.
“You act like some big shot, but—” He glanced around the locker room, like someone might step in and save him.
“But really, you just…you just get off on scaring girls.” He blurted that last bit out like someone was twisting his arm to scream “uncle.”
“Oh, is that what your ex-girlfriend told you? That she was scared of the Big—” I leaned closer to his face. “Bad.” God, I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat. “Wolf?” A few guys around us snorted. “Or do you just have a problem thinking someone else is fucking what used to be yours?”
“She is mine!”
The possessive part of me reared its ugly head. She had been mine first. “Is she?” I gripped his scrawny shoulder.
He tried to back away, but I held him in place and leaned down by his ear.
“You like my sloppy seconds, Brent?” I knew damn well saying that was disrespectful to Jade, but I couldn’t help myself.
His shoulder tensed under my grip, and then the little fucker took a swing at me. His fist grazed my cheek, the force not enough to kill a fly. Oh, that little asshole was about to get it, and every bit of hate I had harbored toward him for the past year.
“Remember,” I said, balling my fist. “You took the first swing.” Then I laid his ass out cold on the locker room floor with one punch.
A collective ohh broke out from the other players, one of them mumbling, “Shit, Brookes.”
Shit was right. If Coach found out about this?—
“What in the ever-loving hell?” Coach shoved through the guys crowded around us. His gaze dropped to Brent sprawled out on the floor, and then it lifted to me. Man, was the scowl on his face angry. “Boy…” He grabbed my shoulder and shoved me forward. “Get in my office.”
“Come on, Coach.” I thumbed back at Brent. “He was running his mouth.”
“Don’t give a rat’s hairy ass. Get your butt in my office.”
The players parted, allowing us through the locker room. With the adrenaline dissipating, I realized how stupid that had been. Sure, the dickhead had it coming, but I should have tried to hold my shit together until I ran into him off campus. Plausible deniability and all that crap…
I followed Coach down the trophy-lined hallway to his office.
He jutted an angry thumb toward the open doorway.
The first time I’d been in this office, my dad had been with me, beaming with pride.
Something told me, as I took a seat in the chair across from Coach’s desk, Dad wouldn’t have been so proud of me right then.
Coach slammed the door before walking behind his desk.
“We’ve got our game with Tech this weekend.
” He paced the small space in front of his window, smoothing a hand over his thinning hair.
“So, why in the hell are you acting a fool? Dammit, Brookes.” He sank into his chair and snatched a notebook from the corner.
“I’m gonna have to suspend you, and you’re the best damn player we have. ”
Suspension? I’d expected to run an extra mile after practice, maybe have to pick up the tackling dummies. But suspension?
His brow wrinkled. “Don’t look all confused, boy. You know you can’t go around knocking the skull off teammates.”
“He threw the first punch. Ask?—”
“You’ve been sacking that kid left and right at practice. And ain’t nothing funny about it, Brookes. The team sure as shit ain’t gonna find it funny when we lose. We won’t have a whore’s chance in hell without you.”
“But—”
“Look, you wanna go around acting like a caveman outside my locker room, help yourself. But I can’t have you doing that crap on my clock.
Shit…” The hinges on his chair creaked when he leaned back on an aggravated groan.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t suspend you if I didn’t think the dean would have my ass if she found out.
But she ain’t exactly fond of me.” Because he’d fucked her and showed her nudes to half the faculty during a drunken poker night, or so I’d heard.
“I’m sorry. But I’m gonna have to suspend you for a minimum of two weeks. ”
“Two weeks?” My face heated. Anxiety knotted my stomach. I couldn’t miss this week’s game. Definitely not two. “Coach, I?—”
“It ain’t none of my business what beef you two have going on between you, but rules are rules.
” He leaned over the notebook, scribbling something on the paper.
“Now, go on and get yourself outta here. Sort your head out. Go do meditation; talk to Jesus. Whatever shit it is you kids do these days to get yourselves right.”
My jaw clenched, and I shoved out of the seat. A shit-stained tidal wave of anger tore through me. At Brent. At Jade. Mostly, though, that anger was with myself. I’d allowed someone who shouldn’t matter to matter too much and for way too damn long.