Barron snickered. “You want me to lie?”
Troy ignored the baiting tone. “If you have a problem, talk to Coach.”
Barron gave DeMarcus a scathing look. “What’s he going to do?”
Oscar stepped forward. “Coach got you to the playoffs.”
Troy almost did a double take. Oscar hadn’t accepted DeMarcus as the team’s head coach at first. But now the grumpy older man was DeMarcus’s greatest supporter, second only to Jaclyn.
But Barron wouldn’t back down. “He turned the team against me.”
DeMarcus’s tone was level. “You did that by putting yourself above the team.”
Barron ignored DeMarcus and turned to Anthony. “And if you punks have something to say, tell me to my face instead of talking to the reporters.”
Troy’s attention bounced from Barron to Anthony. Andrea’s article had quoted the forward, Jamal, and Serge complaining about Barron’s undisciplined behavior.
“We tried that, too.” Anthony spread his hands. “‘Where two or more are gathered in my name, there will I be also.’ Matthew eighteen, twenty.”
Barron clenched his fists. “Stop quoting the Bible and face me like a man.”
Troy raised his hands, palms out. The situation was getting out of control. “Barron, the point is, your behavior’s hurting the team.”
Instead of calming him, Troy’s words seemed to push Barron over the line. He shoved his way past his teammates to the door. “Man, forget this. I’m not some head case on The Tyra Banks Show.”
DeMarcus called after him. “Barron, my office.”
Barron didn’t acknowledge his coach. He pushed through the exit. The heavy metal doors slammed behind him.
Oscar turned to Troy. “Good job.”
Troy braced his shoulders against the weight of defeat. The remaining twelve players stared at the metal exit with varying degrees of surprise and disappointment. All except for Warrick. The point guard studied the doors with a distant, impassive expression.
DeMarcus broke the silence. “Let’s get back to work.”
The players muttered to each other as they returned to practice.
Troy turned to DeMarcus. “I made things worse. I’m sorry.”
DeMarcus gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “Do you still think Barron’s not using?”
Troy held the other man’s gaze. “I know he’s not.”
DeMarcus’s expression didn’t change. “Why do I have the feeling you know more than you’re saying?”
“I don’t.”
Oscar grunted. “You’re lying.”
Troy gave the older man an annoyed look. “Why would I?”
Oscar surveyed the action on the court before turning back to Troy. “This team is your family just like it’s mine. Brothers don’t betray brothers. But you can’t ignore when one has a problem.”
“I don’t know what’s bothering Barron. He won’t tell me.” Troy turned again to DeMarcus. “What are you going to do?”
DeMarcus shrugged. “Fine him for skipping practice, for all the good that does. He just writes the check. I’m sure Morning Glory appreciates his generosity.”
Troy knew Morning Glory Chapel’s food bank and homeless shelter could use the money generated by the team’s fines. Still, the Monarchs needed their captain. “What about his playing time?”