Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Just Jean,” he said. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Yeah?” Jeremy asked Jean.
“Five minutes,” Jean promised, and started toward Lucas.
He expected Lucas to take them to the other end of the locker room, or maybe to one of the huddle rooms, but Lucas went for the door and down the tunnel to the exit. Lucas cut between Rhemann’s and Lisinski’s cars to reach the outer gate, and while Jean followed him over there without hesitation he refused to step through. Lucas himself seemed content to stop in the opening, one hand on the gate and the other on the fence as he stared out at the few cars still scattered around the lot.
“I talked to Grayson,” Lucas said. “Tried to, anyway. He still didn’t want to talk to me.”
“An unexpected bit of discretion,” Jean said, “but not my problem.”
“He didn’t want to talk to me,” Lucas said again, with emphasis.
Jean stared at him, hearing the words but refusing to read into them. Denial could only save him so long, and he followed Lucas’s gaze to the car parked adjacent to the fence. He knew what was coming when the driver’s door opened, but there was nothing he could do but stand frozen as Grayson got out and started his way.
Freedom had not soothed any of the fire in him; months apart had not tamed any of the rage. Jean was looking at a man who desperately wanted to hurt him and who intimately knew where his scars were. Jean couldn’t feel the asphalt beneath his shoes or the warm wind tugging at his hair. There was ice where his marrow should be and a clammy sickness crawling through his chest like a worm.
Metal rattled as Lucas closed the gate again. Jean could have told him no door could keep Grayson out, but he was suffocating on memory and couldn’t find his voice. Grayson slowed to a stop on the other side, but it wasn’t obedience or restraint. He was simply relishing the effect his presence had on Jean, judging by the look on his face. Jean tried to remember what he’d looked like in January, bruised and bloodied and bettered, but it did nothing to steel his nerves.
“You said you just wanted to talk,” Lucas reminded Grayson. “You can talk to him from out there.”
Grayson hooked his fingers in the fence. “You owe me a number, Johnny.”
Zane’s nickname on Grayson’s lips had Jean swallowing hard against a rush of bile. “Fuck you. Zane won that contest, not you.”
“He’s not here to claim it,” Grayson said. “I am. I’m back in the Nest in two days, and you’re going to make sure they give me the respect I’m owed.”
“I won’t lie for you.”
“You’re going to tell everyone I was promised to the perfect Court, or I’m going to come in there, peel the skin off your face, and fuck your bloody skull. Do you understand? I know where you play. I know where you live. Who is going to protect you now?”
“Jesus, Grayson—” Lucas started, but Grayson was already moving.
He threw his considerable weight against the gate, and Lucas wasn’t ready to hold him off. Lucas yelped a bit as he was knocked back, but Jean wasn’t sticking around to help him. He ran for the stadium door knowing he wasn’t going to be fast enough. His fingers grazed the keypad before a hand caught his shoulder to spin him around.
The first fist caught him in his mouth, sending him back into the stadium wall, and Jean fought back like a caged beast. Grayson got a hand past Jean’s guard and caught his face to slam his head into the hard wall. The world spun in a sickening blur, then narrowed to a too-bright focus when Grayson bit down hard on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. The cry it ripped out of Jean was more animal than human, and Jean went for Grayson’s face and throat with frantic fingers.
Lucas came out of nowhere, grabbing his brother’s arm to pull at him. “Stop it,” he tried, desperate. “Grayson, stop!”
Grayson let go of Jean long enough to wail on his brother. Three hits were enough to knock Lucas clean off his feet, and Grayson was back before Jean made it more than two steps away from the wall. Grayson caught Jean’s face in both hands and carved vicious lines down his cheeks with his thumbs as he bodily pinned him to the wall once more.
Jean grabbed his wrists before Grayson could claw his eyes out and headbutted Grayson as hard as he could. Jean was pulled with him when Grayson stumbled back a step, but Grayson recovered before could pry his hands free. Grayson dug his nails in as he shoved Jean back again. Jean kicked his ankle as hard as he could with them pressed this close together, and Grayson responded by knocking his head back into the wall so hard Jean’s teeth ached.