Tutoring the Delinquent

And there is no sign of my sweet girlfriend anywhere.

Don’t panic.

Don’t panic.

I arrived at the game too late to talk to my teammates. I need to explain to them how important Iris is to me. This is my chance. Iris is somewhere safe with the security team, so I can take two minutes to straighten out the story. Then I can stop having nightmares about her finding out. Just two minutes and I can go find her—

I stop dead in my tracks when the members of Iris’s security team appear on the fringes of the crowd. Without Iris.

The helmet slips from my fingers.

“Where is she?” I roar, my heart rocketing up into my mouth.

Silence lands around me like a shower of bricks.

Panic like I’ve never experienced slices into me like knives. I’m halfway toward the security guards before I realize I’ve moved. They back away from me, holding their palms out. I must appear deranged. Good. That’s exactly what I am. They weren’t supposed to leave her side. They weren’t even supposed to leave the family box. What the hell is going on?

“Answer me. Now,” I growl through my teeth. “Where is my girl? Where is she?”

One of them steps forward, visibly nervous. “She ran off, Mr. Xavier. We chased her, but she got a head start and it was too dark to see which direction she went.”

Ice forms on every inch of my body. Dizziness grips me. “Why would she…” My voice is weak. I barley have the power to form words. “Why would she run?”

Somehow I already know the answer.

I know what’s coming.

And all I can do is stand on the tracks and wait for the train to mow me down. Because I deserve this. I was careless and idiotic and now I’m going to pay with my life.

“I don’t want to get involved in your personal business,” mutters the guard. “But one of your teammates…I overheard him saying some things to her.”

“You weren’t supposed to allow anyone to talk to her!” I bellow, ripping off my jersey. My shoulder pads. I’m being suffocated. Oh God, she’s off somewhere alone. She’s run away, hurt. I’ve lost her. I’m going to die. I want to die.

“He might have hinted that your relationship with her isn’t…genuine.”

That’s the final blow.

I drop down to my knees, pitch forward and lose the contents of my stomach.

Sounds no longer penetrate my ears. The world is blurry around me. I squeeze my eyes closed and all I can see is Iris’s beautiful face. How she’d cry if she thought I’d been lying to her. Please, no. Please don’t let this be happening. A single one of her tears is agony. Unacceptable.

I have to go find her, but my legs aren’t working.

Pull it together.

She’s out there somewhere in the darkness.

She could be in danger.

It’s the fear of her being harmed that pulls me out of my delirium. Enough to stumble to my feet and whirl around. “Which one of you spoke to Iris?” I shout raggedly. “Who was it?”

Because yes, this situation is totally my fault.

But there is no doubt in my mind the information wasn’t passed on to Iris with good intentions. Someone wants what is mine. Rage boils over inside of me. Helpless fucking rage.

No one answers me, but I’m their quarterback. I’m their team captain. It’s my job to read their body language. So when one of my receivers ducks back into the shadows, I go after him like a bull chasing a matador. He makes it two steps before I’m on top of him, flipping him over and delivering a right cross to his petrified face. Blood sprays from his nose and he tries to swing back, but I evade him and throw another punch. Harder. Shouting obscenities through my teeth. Fully prepared to choke the life out of him.

“You did this, man,” he says, spitting blood into the grass. “All I did was tell her the truth.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I respond, my voice cracking.

He’s right. I don’t want to hear it, though.

Iris. Iris. Iris, I’m sorry.

“Think I’ve got a chance with her now?” taunts the receiver, lashing out in his embarrassment over having his ass handed to him in front of a crowd. “Tell me the truth. She’s all cute and innocent in the streets, but she rides it nasty in the sheets, doesn’t she?”

I knock him out cold.

There is no word for the mixture of terror and rage inside of me. I’m sick to my stomach. I’m scared she’s in danger. I’m destitute without her. I hate myself.

Teeming with the sharpest edges of these emotions, I turn and run for the locker room. I have to get the keys to my truck. I have to go find her. Now. Now. Right the hell now. I’ll explain everything and I’ll apologize until she forgives me. There is no other option. I can’t live without Iris. I don’t want to. People call my name, but I hear next to nothing, save the rapid pounding of my heart. A heart that will stop beating without her.