I see fucking red, but I refuse to release her to put this motherfucker in the ground. Roxten moves in beside Colby, smirking at my girl, and despite everything I want to do to them, I drag Brielle away from Colby and back toward our side, my boys coming with us.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” I demand, gripping her arm tight so the little she-devil can’t slip away again. “He’s a rapist, Bri. I don’t give a shit how fucking tough you think you are, you don’t go demanding that type of attention. We’ll deal with him, but not like that.”
Tears spring from her eyes as we get back to our side, and I indicate to the bench for her to sit. “I … I don’t know. I just saw him and all I could remember was the way his hands were tightening around my throat, and it was like I couldn’t breathe again. I just … I can’t sit here and watch him get away with everything he’s done. He’s right there and no one is doing anything about it. The cops are just fucking around letting him get away with it. He should be locked up.”
Letting out a sigh, I crouch down before her, one hand resting on her thigh as the other brushes the tears from her face. “I know,” I tell her. “Trust me, I fucking know more than anyone, but I swear to you, I’m not letting him get away with this shit anymore. We’ve got him right where we want him, and the second this game is over …”
I clench my jaw, letting her see the wild venom in my stare, and she nods, knowing this is how it has to be. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I won’t,” I promise her. “But we have to be patient. Half of these guys have colleges looking at them, and while I’m willing to give it all up for justice, they shouldn’t have to. I’m not fucking up their season and their future for that piece of shit, okay? We play out this game and win, and the second we’re done, all bets are off.”
“I wanna come with you.”
“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head as the cheerleaders run around the field clearing off anything left behind from the brawl. The school security officers usher people back to their seats, demanding everyone calm down, while other spectators take off, not wanting to hang around for the second half of the game.
Coach Wyld takes a sip of his drink, trying to calm himself as Brielle presses her lips into a tight line. “I’m going to be a part of this whether you like it or not,” she says as Coach orders everyone to gather around. “He hurt me too, Tanner. I deserve this just as much as you do.”
I press my lips into a hard line, knowing she won’t back down, but Coach Wyld will have my ass if I don’t wrap this up quickly. “Fine,” I tell her, going against my better judgment. “Go with the girls and figure out a way to get the motherfucker alone after the game. If we can get Hargrove too, even better.”
Brielle grins, and as she leans in to kiss me, her eyes darken. “We’ve got this. Now go win your game.”
And with that, she takes off into the grandstand, the wheels in her brain spinning a million miles an hour.
Pushing my ass back onto the bench, I drop my head into my hands, feeling the weight of everything that just went down. “You good, Morgan? That was a big hit,” Coach asks. I give a sharp nod and he watches me a moment, wondering if he should trust me. “Good,” he finally says. “Jacobs will be out the rest of the game, so there shouldn’t be any more problems. Hudson, you’re out too.”
“What?” Hudson demands, getting to his feet. “That’s bullshit.”
“What’s bullshit is watching one of my senior players involve himself in someone else’s shit. You could have put an end to it and walked away, instead you aggravated an already fucked-up situation. You’re out for the rest of the game. Don’t like it? Take it up with me on Monday.”
When Hudson’s ass drops back to the bench, Coach turns back to his team. “As for the rest of you, you better perform so well that I forget about the bullshit that just happened out on my field. I want a win at the end of this game, otherwise, you will all face the consequences, whether you were involved or not. Is that understood?”
Shouldering up next to one another in a huddle, we all chant, “Yes, Coach,” and get right back into it, going over our plays and figuring out how to stay on top.
Chapter 21
TANNER
Colby’s black Charger lingers under the light of the Bradford Private student parking lot, and we watch from the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike.