Grabbing my gear, I head down the hallway and out to the parking lot. I’m halfway to my truck when I hear mixed voices spewing venom.
“Happy, you little bitch?”
“P-please, please stop!”
Dropping my duffle, I head toward the crowd and tense when I hear another cry. I make my way toward the commotion, moving bodies to get through it, and then all I see is red.
Clarissa
I knock on Troy’s door for the second time, knowing he’s home. Theo’s car is gone, but Troy’s King Cab is in its usual spot. When the door finally opens, it’s Lance who answers.
“Hey, how are you, Lance?”
“I’m good, Clarissa. Thanks for the cookies. They were delicious.”
“You’re welcome. I’m so sorry about the game.”
“Yeah,” he says, his disappointment clear, “that was something.” Lance is dangerously beautiful. When I first introduced myself to him, I was intimidated by his menacing stature. But he’s as gentle as they come, the strong silent type. At least that’s my impression of him now. Harper is far more outgoing. Briefly, I wonder how that dynamic plays out in their relationship.
“You played really well.”
“Not well enough,” I can see the sadness in his smile. “If you’re looking for Troy, he’s upstairs.”
“Thanks,” I make my way to Troy’s bedroom and knock once.
“Sup?” I hear him call from behind the door, and I poke my head in to see him tense when he sees me. Shirtless, he’s sprawled on his bed in sweatpants, books open and scattered all over his mattress. He catches his football mid toss. “What’s wrong, where’s Dante?”
“He’s fine. Parker’s with him.”
He lifts to sit, and that’s when I notice his bruised cheekbone and busted lip. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Difference of opinion with a bunch of assholes.”
“Can I look at it?” I sit down next to him on the bed and palm his cheek to examine his lip. He pulls out of my grip.
“I’m okay.”
“What happened?”
“I just told you. I got into a fight. It’s fine.”
“Not fine. You just lost a game and got into a brawl. I would say things are pretty shitty at the moment.”
“I’ll deal. Not the end of the world.”
“And what is the end of the world?”
He draws his brows. “What?”
“What’s the end of the world for Troy Jenner?”
He jerks his head back. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Yes. I would like to know.”
“Any harm coming to my son. Losing another fucking game, not getting drafted, bouncing another goddamned check. Pick a nightmare, sweetheart.”
“Don’t be condescending.”