Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“Don’t do anything stupid, Tanner.”
I scoff, wishing he’d release me to go warm up with the boys. The last thing I need is some fucked-up version of a therapy session from my coach. “Ain’t no guarantees,” I tell him, giving it to him straight. “If Colby Jacobs is stupid enough to show up here again, nothing will stop me from taking him out, and that’s a promise.”
Coach watches me for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Jacobs?” he questions. “The captain of the Hope Falls team?” I nod and Coach glances out toward his players. “You’ve had issues with this kid before.”
“That’s right.”
“Perhaps I should bench you for a few weeks,” he murmurs, almost as if talking to himself. “We’re still due to play Hope Falls later in the season. I can’t risk having you on the field if that kid is playing.”
“You want to punish me because he raped my sister?” I demand. “If anyone should be benched, it’s Colby. I had to listen to her screaming for help over the phone while he forced himself inside her, and I couldn’t do shit to save her. Now I’m the one who’s gonna be benched? Fuck that. Colby raped her just to get at me. What happened to my sister is on my shoulders, and his lawyer is going to make sure he walks, so at the very least, the asshole should be suspended from playing for the rest of the season.”
“I didn’t mean that as a punishment, Tanner. I’m simply looking out for what’s best for you. The last thing I want is to see you on my field beating the shit out of this kid for the world to see. You will not be throwing your future away on my watch. If skipping a few games doesn’t sit right with you, then I’ll figure out something else, but mark my words, Tanner, you will not be playing on the same field as Colby Jacobs.”
I clench my jaw, fury burning through my veins. Taking Colby out on the field might have been my only chance to get close to him, but that simply means I have to get a little more creative. Whether Colby walks free or not, I’ll still get my chance to wrap my fingers around his throat.
Watching me mentally shut down from the conversation, Coach curses and nods toward the rest of the team. “Go warm up, then we’re running drills.”
I don’t bother with a response before taking off toward the guys, ignoring the stares from Hudson and Riley, knowing they’re well aware of my conversation with Coach Wyld. Instead, I take off at a jog, pushing to the front of the group and forcing them all to pick up their pace.
Just as promised, we get stuck into drills, and two hours later, I’m fucking exhausted. Sweat drips from my brow as I make my way back into the locker room, the boys on my heels. Not gonna lie, training fucking sucked. Just as Coach said, I channeled the rage and recklessness inside of me into my training and used it to push myself harder. I flew up and down the field, letting it consume me. My passes were wild and my game was off, but once I was able to find control, I used it to my advantage. I was un-fucking-stoppable. That doesn’t mean the anger is gone though.
As long as Colby is free, the anger won’t subside, and as long he’s trying to take my girl down with him, the fury will continue to burn.
Jax’s hand comes down on my shoulder as I stop at my locker, more than ready to peel off my uniform and shower. “Whatever bullshit pep-talk Coach gave you worked like fucking magic,” he says, moving past me toward his locker. “You were on fire out there.”
“I’d hardly call it a fucking pep-talk,” I mutter, gripping my jersey and pulling it up over my head, unable to handle much more after-training chatter than that. All I want is to get home and check in on Brielle, even if it means spying on her through the cracks of her Venetian blinds like a fucking creeper.
At the hard edge in my tone, all the guys look my way, but it’s Riley who watches me the longest. “Yo, you good?” he questions.
I stare straight ahead at my locker, the conversation with Coach bringing up all the shit that I’ve been trying to squash all day. “Fine,” I murmur, reaching for my towel and taking off toward the showers.
“Tanner?” Riley calls after me, the tone of his voice filled with the type of concern that has me desperate to escape. The last thing I want is to talk it out, and knowing Riley, that’s exactly what he wants me to do. Hell, my version of therapy includes beating the shit out of heavy bags and clearing my head on a long ride. Talking it out only serves to piss me off more. Though lately, just being near one particular little killjoy seems to make me happier than anything has before. With her, everything is just … right.