Sweet Rome (Sweet Home 1.5)

“I won’t go and risk my girl getting hurt!”

“Then maybe leave her at home, son. Think of a plan B. Turn up, wear a smile, do your duty, and leave.”

Do your duty. Where had I heard that before?

“Change it,” I said through clenched teeth. “Change it… I’m begging you.”

Coach reached out to lay a hand on my shoulder, but I jumped at the action and his face fell as he held up his palms. “Rome, I’m so sorry. I don’t know the history with you and your parents, but I know it’s bad. I hate to ask this of you, but you need to be there, and the venue choice is way out of my hands.”

Coach checked his watch and cussed. “The coaching staff have a meeting now with the director about the travel plans to Georgia, and I can’t get out of it. I’ve got to go.” Stepping forward, he said, “Finish up your weights. Hell, go pass some balls, get out your anger, then go home and try to relax. Speak to Miss Shakespeare. And if needs be, we’ll work out a way to protect you both.” Laying a hand on my shoulder, he assured, “You’re our priority, son. We’re a team. We look out for each other.”

I couldn’t speak so I stood there silently as he left the room without another word.

I tried to keep calm, but I was too far gone, too enraged.

When I reentered the gym, Austin and Jimmy-Don signaled for me to go over to them, but I was rooted to the spot, lost, not knowing what to do. I couldn’t let my folks get to me this way, but I needed football to leave their clutches once and for all. I was in total catch twenty-two. I needed a plan, but Christ, I couldn’t think straight.

“Rome!” Austin shouted and, frowning at my weird mood, waved me over.

Breathing deep, I headed in his direction, when I heard Porter say, “Yeah, apparently she’s a real slut. Shelly said she lets him do anything to her, and I mean anything. I see the attraction now. I could get past all that ugly if she’d let me f**k her up the ass too.”

I could feel the wave of the blood rushing to my face and my teeth were clenched together so hard I was sure I felt them crack. I saw Austin glaring at Porter in disgust and tried my damnedest to gain my composure, but when the f**ker added, “I mean, just hearing that English accent scream my name would almost have me shooting my load… and from what I hear, she swallows that down like a good little whore!”

I completely lost it.

Using the years and years of sprint training to my advantage, I flew at Porter, tackled his ass to the floor, and instantly began to wale on him. He didn’t even get a chance to react properly, only getting in a few shit jabs before a right hook to his jaw knocked him the f**k out. His body went limp below me, but I couldn’t stop. I needed to get out all the anger. It was tearing me the hell up—and the f**ker deserved to pay for the shit he was spitting about Mol.

Two arms grabbed me from behind, yanking me off Porter, and scrambling to my feet, I saw Austin and Jimmy-Don were before me. On instinct, I swung out my fist, Austin ducking, showing he too wasn’t unused to violence.

“Get him the hell out of here and cleaned up… All y’all move… Now!” Jimmy-Don screamed over my shoulder, and swerving, I watched what was left of the team, dragging a now semi-conscious Porter from the gym.

“What the f**k’s up with you?” Austin barked out, clearly trying to keep hold of his own temper.

“Y’all need to leave me the hell alone,” I said roughly.

“Rome, buddy—”

“I said leave!” I snapped at Jimmy-Don, who, disappointed, pulled on Austin’s shirt to get him out of the gym, leaving me to deal with all this crap by myself.

I was so out of my depth with all this shit. I was twenty-one and was through with all the pressure. Through with having to fight every damn day to just to have a normal life, for me and my girl to just be together, away from anyone’s business, and have our child in friggin’ peace.

Temporarily losing my damn mind, I began tearing apart the gym as every f**ked-up scenario of what my folks could be up to played through my mind. Throwing mats, overturning equipment, I panted harder and harder until I was completely breathless. My shirt was soaked with sweat and blood, so I ripped it off, throwing it across the room, and slumped down to the bench, fighting back the tears.

I’d never felt so damn helpless in my life.

After several minutes of just staring at the ceiling, I heard the gym door creak open, and I stilled. When I dropped my head, I saw Molly stepping through, mouth gaping open at the state of the gym and then turning her attention on me, her face paling and her eyes huge.

She walked forward and I hissed, “Guess who’s hosting the f**king SEC Division Championship dinner two days after we get back from the game in Georgia?”

“Oh no, baby—” she whispered and her hands immediately went to protect her stomach. I don’t think she even realized what she’d done, but that action alone had me dying inside—she feared what my folks were going to do to our child.

“It’s a f**kin’ joke! They’ve never given a shit about football my whole life and now they suddenly volunteer to host the biggest dinner of the year… at the plantation? It’s a f**kin’ trap to get us there, Mol!”

She tried to comfort me, to get closer, but I couldn’t let her. I was so damn livid. Couldn’t have her trying to soothe me.

“Romeo, you need to calm down! Half the college is out front. You’ve beat a teammate to a pulp—”