Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
What kind of birth control are you using? Or is it just your personality?
—Eddy to Nettie
Eddy
“All right, ladies,” I said as I looked at each face individually. “We’re going to do just fine. Calm down. Focus on our style of play. You’re stooping down to their level. You’re better than this. Passes are faster than dribbling.”
Heads nodded.
“Look up. I want to see a bunch of one twos. They’re ready for you to dribble it.”
I said this to my team captain.
She nodded in understanding.
“We’re only down by one,” I said. “And we have a whole forty-minute half left.”
“Yes, Coach,” one of my quietest seniors said, her shoulders straightening. “We got this.”
They did.
I knew they did.
It happened like that sometimes, losing against teams that were clearly worse than us.
But sometimes, it was hard to hold onto your foundation of soccer when you were playing against girls that literally had no clue what a foundation was.
If you asked them what an offside was, none of them would be able to tell you.
They were playing rough. They were clearly trying to take our girls out. And it was more than obvious that their coach had told them to do it.
“Win by whatever means possible” was the asshole’s motto.
“And remember,” I continued. “This is a scrimmage. In the end, this game doesn’t matter. If we win or lose, we’re still going to start fresh in three weeks. We’ll play teams of our own caliber. And we’ll play knowing that this game didn’t matter. Okay?”
More nods.
“All right,” I said when the ref blew her whistle, indicating halftime was over. “Let’s get out there.”
They all huddled close, and we called out ‘Bos!
The girls hustled out onto the field, and the six left on the bench huddled in close to me.
“Y’all really need to remember to bring your own blankets next time.” I laughed as I gave them my blanket and stood up.
They huddled under it and shivered.
I rolled my eyes.
“Weak. Y’all are all weak.”
“It’s thirty degrees out here with a windchill of twenty. You’re the weirdo,” Nettie called.
I discreetly flipped her off.
Nettie snickered and got in closer to the last girl on the bench and wrapped her into a hug.
They were right.
It was chilly.
But we were soccer players.
We were used to chilly.
I actually never remembered a time when we didn’t play when it was cold.
I was decked out in my warmest boots, several layers of clothes, and my soccer parka that said JCHS LOBOS on it.
The ref blew her whistle and the game was on.
I watched with a keen eye as my girls started the game, clearly intending to play their game this half instead of the other team’s game.
Ball movement was perfect for a solid ten minutes until our forward went down when the goalie went for the girl instead of the ball.
Everyone was on their feet at that, including the girl’s parents.
I held up my hand when I saw the dad start to hop the fence.
He stilled, but I could tell he didn’t want to. “I’m going.”
I hustled out onto the field along with our athletic trainer.
My ribs protested only a small amount as I got to Saraha’s side and dropped down to my knees. “Hey, hey. You’re okay. What hurts?”
“My head,” she admitted. “I’m seeing double.”
Fuck.
“Concussion?” I asked the AT.
The athletic trainer nodded. “That would be my guess. Let’s get you to the sideline. You’re not playing anymore today.”
I gritted my teeth and got her up, helping her toward the sideline with the AT’s help.
The ref, having waited until he got her off the field, turned around and held up a red card to the goalie, who pitched a huge fit.
Her coach pitched one as well, going up to the ref and getting into her face.
Which only pissed me off, because it was more than obvious that the reason he was doing that to her was because he thought he could intimidate her.
The fans on the other team yelled and booed.
The ref threw the coach out, too.
That’s when it went sideways.
Everyone was so focused on the goalie, the coach, and their issues that no one watched a random man come from the stands and storm across the field.
The female ref was flanked by both of her female linesmen, and didn’t see this man coming up until he was already on top of her.
“Nettie,” I called out, cautious. “Get the girls off the field and into the locker room. Now. Lock all the doors.”
I could see this getting out of hand.
The male parent, apparently the dad of the goalie, was pushing the ref and getting into her face.
My team left quietly, leaving all of their belongings behind.
“Natalia,” I said to the AT. “Get into the AT room and close and lock the door.”
I said this so quietly that no one besides us could hear.
She gave a quick glance toward the chaos on the other team’s sidelines and nodded.
The ref blew her whistle to signal the end of the game.
Seconds later, she gestured toward the other team and said, “You forfeit!”
Fuck.
My entire sideline was empty of my players and coaching staff.
The only one left was me.
Which I thanked God for when the parent pulled out a gun and leveled it at the ref. Who was standing in line with me.
Everyone froze.
The few fans that had braved the weather took off, too. The kids on the other team ran toward the parking lot, and I selfishly thought “good” because the whole situation with them was scary and I wasn’t sure that I wanted them around my kids.
Thank freakin’ God I’d already sent the junior varsity home for the day along with their parents.
Instead of staying, Bossy had gone with one of the girls on the team to Hopps, where Weaver was going to pick her up after they ate.
I backed away toward the tunnel, hoping beyond hope that everyone could get away.
Or maybe the dad wouldn’t be a complete and total lunatic and put his gun down.
That ref was probably scared shitless right now.
“Oh god,” I said as I backed farther into the shadows.
A door creaked open slowly to my right, and thinking that it was one of my kids, I thanked them for opening the door and all but fell inside, reaching for my phone.
However, when the door closed and the lights turned on, I didn’t see one of my kids there.
I did, however, see my mother pointing a gun at my forehead, and Audrey standing beside her looking smug as hell.
“Wh-what’s going on?” I asked, looking worriedly between the two of them, unable to keep my eyes off the gun. Nor the look in my mother’s eyes.
“What’s going on is you’re going to go recant every single thing you said!” she bellowed, spittle forming at the corner of her mouth.
“I didn’t lie,” I said. “This is one very bold line I will not cross.”
“You will, or you’ll die.”
I shrugged. “Then I’ll die.”
I wouldn’t cross this line.
There was a moral compass inside of me that leaned slightly wrong, but not this wrong.
“It’s sick,” I said to her now, clearly unable to hold my tongue, even in these types of situations. “What you and Dad did.” I looked at Audrey with a disgusted face. “What you all did. You’re all fucking sick. And I want nothing to do with you.”
“It’s not a sickness.” Audrey looked at me. “It’s a calling.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “I don’t want to hear anymore.”
And I didn’t.
I backed toward the door of the room, my intention clear.
They could shoot me.
I didn’t care.
I could die right here, right now, but at least I wouldn’t die knowing that I protected a sick fuck who hurts kids.
The door opened and my mom repositioned the gun in her hand.
I backed out of the door, and I saw her finger tighten on the trigger.
I was going to die.
I was literally going to die.
And I was okay with it.
I’d leave Weaver behind. Bossy, too. My sister.
But at least I would do it with a smile.
I flipped my mother off.
Rage and pain fueled me.
Just as my mother’s eyes went molten hot and I knew that she was going to pull the trigger, a ball came sailing past me.
The ball hit my mother in the head, directly against her face, and she fell backward.
The gun went off.
The ball bounced back toward me.
And I took the second shot.
It nailed Audrey in the stomach and she doubled over with a whoosh.
I slammed the door closed and searched for something heavy to put in front of it.
The huge rolling water cart with the locking wheels was perfect.
My sister came to help me, and between the two of us we positioned the cart in front of the outward-opening door and locked the wheels.
Audrey started to pound on the door. “Let me out!”
We left her.
“Nice shot,” I said. “How good did that feel?”
“If I could do it again, I’d video it and put it on the internet,” she said. “I think nothing better could happen than the world seeing her take a ball to the face.”
I snorted. “That room has a video feed.”
“Excellent.” She took my hand. “What’s going on?”
I squeezed her hand. “I don’t know.”
There was no more yelling.
But there was, however, galloping.
“What the fuck?” Nettie and I both said at the same time.
We peeked around the corner of the tunnel and…
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“I feel like we’re in a romance novel setting right now,” she breathed as we watched Weaver gallop up on a horse.
One second he was at the entrance of the field, and the next he was galloping so damn fast across the field that everyone turned and looked to see where the thunder was coming from.
“His ass looks really good in those pants,” she whispered.
He was in tan pants that fit him like a glove.
According to him when I’d checked him out in them this morning, they were 5.11 Tactical pants that were made for movement. They were stretchy, durable, and protective.
I’d just been damn impressed in the way they cupped his ass and his package.
“I know,” I breathed as he made it to the man with the gun.
When he got close, he took his foot from the stirrup and launched himself off the back of the horse right at the man staring in shock at the horse rocketing toward him.
Weaver took the guy out like a battering ram.
They both hit so hard that we could hear the thud of their bodies from half a football field away.
“Ohhh,” I breathed at the sound.
The dad hit the ground with a solid thunk, my sexy beast of a man on top of him rearing backward to lay one solid punch to the guy’s temple.
The guy went out like a light, and the rest of us were all staring.
“Does your stadium have video of that?” she asked.
“I have one of those cameras on the girls.” I pointed to it. “Everything will be in high definition.”
“Aces,” she breathed. “Send it to me. I need some spank bank material.”
“Gross.” I punched her in the arm. “Get your own man.”
Her sigh was long and loud. “The one I want hates me.”
I snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, Nettie.”
I ran/shuffled out of the tunnel toward my man, who saw me coming and all but wilted at the sight of me.
He started running, too, picked me up in his arms and squeezed me gently.
He was shaking, and I almost felt sorry for the way that he’d had to come here and deal with this.
Almost.
If he hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have gotten to see that spectacular performance.
I couldn’t wait to rewatch it later.
Then finally put his bed to good use and fuck him on it.
“I’m okay,” I promised.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
Cop cars pulled onto the track, and Sheriff Black was there, along with Gentry and several other sheriff deputies.
“What happened?” Black asked.
I buried my face into Weaver’s neck. “There’s more.”
He tensed. “What kind of more?”
I gave him the rundown.
“Goddammit,” he growled. “Did you take the gun?”
I sighed. “It seriously never occurred to me. So she’s armed.”
Gentry heard most of my explanation and peeled off to talk to Black, who had the dad, still passed out, in handcuffs and disarmed.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” I pulled back and cupped Weaver’s cheeks. “That was…oh my god. I don’t even know what to call it. But seriously, I didn’t know you could ride a horse.”
“I can’t.” He paused. “At least not more than recreationally. It’s just that Denver knows how to train a damn horse. I didn’t do a thing but ride it here.”
I snickered. “I can’t wait to watch that video in 4K later.”
He just shook his head. “Where are the girls?”
I pointed toward the back hallway. “Locked in the locker room. They’re insulated and really far away from where my mother’s locked in.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s go check on them.”