Page 75 of Heartless Monster

“Get the hell outta here.” I sweep my hand through the air. “Don’t you have a bench to keep warm?”

He tsks, ripping his helmet off and throwing it to the side, challenging me. “Don’t you?”

“You son of a bitch!” I hurl toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist as I take him straight to the ground. “You’re fucking dead,” I seethe, fist cocked and ready to blow. Before I can bring it down on his face, someone grabs my hand.

“Both of you, on your feet,” Coach growls. “Now!”

I push myself up just before Coach grabs the mask on my helmet, dragging me off the field. “Get your ass over here, Hanson!”

Gage and I sulk, shoulders dropped as we’re forced off the field by Coach Ivers. Once he lets go of my helmet, I pull it over my head.

“What the hell has gotten into you two?” Coach’s face is red hot, spit flying from his mouth. “You’re part of a damn team, and when you’re on my field, you act like it. Now, unless you both want to be out for good, you’re gonna behave like teammates, even friends, for a while. And once I’m certain that’s what you are, maybe I’ll let you play in my game.”

“What are you saying, Coach?” Gage asks, sweat dripping from his face.

God dammit. This is the last thing I need. I had one more game to go before I was off the bench. Now, thanks to the dipshit running his damn mouth, I’m at risk of being out longer.

Coach looks at me, then Gage, before walking over to the bench and digging in his duffel bag. “I’m saying, you two are gonna spend a little time together.” He pulls out a beige braided rope and comes back to us. “Gimme your hand,” he orders me, and I do as I’m told. He ties the rope around my wrist, then barks at Gage to stand next to me. By the time he’s done, mine and Gage’s wrists are bound together. “Let’s start with two laps around the track. We’ll see how much you hate each other by the time you’re done, and we’ll go from there.”

“Come on, Coach,” Gage whines. “You can’t be serious?”

“I’m dead serious, boy. Now, get to it.”

I look at Gage before wiping the sweat off my forehead with my free hand.

“Well,” Coach grumbles. “What the hell are ya waiting for?”

Not wasting any time, I start running and Gage follows suit.

“This isn’t over,” I tell Gage through gritted teeth. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re not even part of this damn team.”

“Maybe I would be if you fucking Cromwell boys didn’t get everything handed to you on a silver platter.” Our paces easily match because despite the fact that I hate the guy, we are used to being on a team together.

I laugh dryly. “We don’t get a damn thing handed to us. We work our asses off on that field.”

“Oh yeah?” Gage huffs. “Is that why I’m the second-string quarterback and as soon as you got benched your brother took the position? A player who was already in the game?”

We make it halfway around the first lap, and sweat is dripping down my body. “Is that what this is about? You’re pissed because Coach moved Wilder to QB and not you? Take that shit up with him, not me.”

He shakes his head as if I’m missing something. “Forget it. You don’t even give a shit. You and Wilder pull the strings and everyone does your little dance.”

What the fuck is he even talking about? “You’re delusional. We’ve played on the same team our entire lives. You know damn well how hard we’ve fought to be where we are.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “And now you’re on the bench right beside me.”

His words cut deep because I have worked my ass off. Sure, I fucked up and got my ass landed on the bench, but it has nothing to do with the way I play.

“Temporarily,” I remind him as we begin our second lap. “Next week I’ll be back out there, and you’ll still be sitting with all the second strings.”

“We’ll see about that.” Gage jerks the rope, pulling me toward him, but I pull right back. “Go ahead, Rome. Give it your best shot. Take me down and out.”

I see what he’s doing now. He’s trying to get under my skin. He wants me to fight his ass because he wants me off the team. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I just don’t think you’ve got the balls to do it.” He tries to jerk again, but this time I’m ready.

I laugh, picking up my pace and pulling him right along with me. He keeps spewing nonsense and threats, but now I just ignore him because it’s obvious he wants a reaction out of me.

We finish our second lap, and I’m out of breath by the time we cross the line. I immediately rip the rope off my wrist, letting it hang from Gage’s. Practice is over, so everyone else is leaving the field as Coach approaches us.

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