Chapter 12 #2
“I think congratulations are due, Rivers.” He grins. “A few weeks of working with my genius daughter and you’re already headed in the right direction to stay on this team.”
Normally, I’d be pissed that someone might hear what he’s saying because I’d be embarrassed. But right now, I don’t really give a shit. So instead, I pat his side. “Thanks, Coach. Let’s go win this game.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” Coach gives my shoulder one last grip before shoving me gently toward the exit. That feeling of pride swells in my chest again—not as profound as it was earlier but still there.
I’m not even on the field when there’s a voice behind me, and just like that, lightness is gone, and now I’m just fucking pissed.
“I’m about done trying to warn you to stay the fuck away from Haven, Rivers,” Tabor growls angrily, his shoulder bumping mine. “Let this be your final warning.”
I don’t say a word back because it’s not the time or the place.
But after this game is over, he’s going to have a fucking awakening.
Because if he doesn’t stop acting like Haven is a piece of property, he won’t be feeling good enough to be making threats or worrying about what she’s doing or who she’s doing it with.
I’ll make sure of it.
My anger is part jealousy and part protective driven, but I have a game to play. So, even though it kills me, I push Tabor Timmons out of my head because right now, I need to help Coach win this game.
He deserves it. And I’m not letting Timmons take that away from him.
There’s no feeling quite like the one when a team wins against a rival that, in past years, has smoked them.
Last year, NEU lost to this team—by a landslide.
And I think knowing that added a little extra pressure on not only Coach, but on all of us players as well.
I may have not been here last year, but I’m an Eagle now, so even their past wins and losses are connected to me.
I didn’t want to walk out of here a loser and carry that torch.
“Way to be out there, Rivers!” Noah says, pounding a palm to my back.
“Says you,” I grin, smacking his helmet a few times. “That was all you.”
I had a good game; I won’t deny that. But Noah was flawless, and even after all the years I’ve known him, his sheer speed and agility continue to shock me.
Not only did we have him as a secret weapon, but our defense was unmatched.
This team today, Brooks University, had nothing for us.
And watching them head off the field with their heads down, knowing that they and all their fans thought they’d come here today and mop the floor with us, well, that just makes this entire day better.
After a bunch of my teammates surround me, we celebrate for a few more minutes before heading into the locker room. I trail behind Noah and our kicker, Issac. And despite the sweat pouring from their heads and the exhaustion written all over their shoulders, their smiles never falter.
“I keep telling you, we got ourselves a secret weapon.” Issac grins, winking at me.
“I’ve seen you at practice and at the first few games, but those weren’t high pressure situations like today because we knew we were the better team.
Didn’t know if you’d always be so stone cold and chill.
” He shrugs. “Guess this is just who you are, Rivers.”
I reach for my locker, opening it with my eyes still on him. “It was a team effort,” I utter, knowing that next game, I could fucking suck.
Issac’s eyes move to my locker before widening. And when I turn my head to see what’s got his expression so shaken, I’m hit with immense anger.
“What the fuck,” I growl through gritted teeth after taking in the sight of my locker completely trashed.
“Brooks University couldn’t handle the loss, huh?” Noah mutters, standing behind me. “This is fucking bullshit.”
While chaos erupts in the locker room, my heart begins to pound, and my teeth start to grind. I look around the room, my eyes stopping on the fuckface in the corner, the only motherfucker in here who hasn’t walked over to get a closer look.
I hold Timmons’s gaze, sending him a harrowing glare. It wasn’t the other team that came in here and trashed my shit—it was this motherfucker right here.
My own fucking teammate.
He smirks, tilting his head to the side subtly before he looks away and begins stripping his uniform off. And when I swing my head back to my locker, my anger only grows.
“Not a word of this to Coach,” I finally say through gritted teeth before my gaze sweeps the entire locker room, warning each and every guy in here to keep their mouths shut. “Understood?”
Looking around at each other, my fists ball at my sides. “Understood, I fucking asked,” I growl, and quickly, they nod.
To them, I’m the calm guy on the team who doesn’t say much—even in situations like this one. Inside, a storm is raging, and I’m imagining things like bashing Tabor Timmons’s head off the wooden bench.
These guys … they don’t know that side of me. Not many do because I try my best to keep it hidden from the world. There’s one person who’s seen it in my new life.
Haven.
I’d reached my breaking point when I was seventeen, and I could have killed someone that night. But she was there, telling me to stop.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that much fury roll through my body. Each time Tabor pushes me, it stokes that fire a little more. But Coach needs Tabor Timmons on his roster. I hate to admit it, but he does.
So, I’m going to handle this myself and not say a word to Coach. He’s leading a Division 1 football team, not a fucking peewee league. He shouldn’t have to concern himself with crybaby Tabor just because his daughter broke it off with him and is tutoring me, a guy she’s known for years.
I’ll let my teammates believe it was the other team that did this, and I’ll take care of Tabor myself. I just haven’t figured out how yet.
I guess that’s going to depend on how far he pushes me from here.
He grew up rich, getting anything and everything he could ever want in a household with two parents and a fucking golden retriever.
Me? I grew up watching my dad beat the shit out of my mother until I was old enough for him to decide it was time to start beating me.
I couldn’t get bigger and stronger because we had no food.
So instead, I only became more frail. When he’d leave for days to weeks on end, it would be a relief knowing I was safe from his wrath.
If Tabor thinks he knows anger, he doesn’t. And if he pushes me to a certain point, he’s going to have to find out that once I start punching …
It’s really fucking hard for me to stop.