Page 155 of Offside Devil

Owen leans in closer to the screen—supposedly to see the seconds ticking past in the bottom corner—as the digital version of me throws her head back. I want to walk into traffic. Rush hour, high speed, nonstop traffic.

If this video had sound, I’d already be on my way to the nearest intersection.

Zane lunges forward and slams the laptop shut. “That’s enough.”

The room descends into stiff silence. Taylor would tell me to be sex positive and look everyone in this room in their eyes unashamedly… but Taylor didn’t just have her boyfriend’s boss watching her climax, so I decide to ignore her hypothetical advice.

“Do you have what you need now?” Zane snarls.

Owen nods grimly. “Aye.”

“I didn’t bring you here to embarrass you,” Coach Popov offers.

I look up and realize he’s talking to me. “It’s okay,” I squeak. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not, but I didn’t know a better way to do this.” He opens the laptop and pulls the video up again. For a horrifying second, I think he’s going to continue playing it. Instead, he navigates to the top corner and hovers over the trash icon. “If someone sent those pictures to Owen, they may send them to other people, too. They could leak. And this footage is the solid proof that they’re fake. This is the proof that you were where you said you were.”

Doing who you said you were doing, hangs unspoken in the air.

He looks at Zane. “But the footage is also… personal. I want you two to decide what happens to?—”

“Delete it,” Zane growls.

I whip around. “No. You can’t. It’s proof.”

If those pictures end up in the hands of CPS or Peter Morris, this video could be the only thing that proves Zane’s innocence.

“I don’t care. I want it gone.”

“It’s your decision,” Coach Popov repeats. “It’s a sensitive video and I wanted you both here to show you that I’ll do with it what you want.”

I grab Zane’s hand. “If the photos get printed, we can release the video.” Just the thought of it makes me nauseous. “It’s all the defense you’ll need, Zane.”

“I don’t need to defend myself.” He looks sidelong towards Owen before he leans down, talking to me. “I’m not going to show your face—your body—on the internet to defend myself. I’m not going to risk your safety because I have a spotty track record and I’ve lost too many people’s trust.”

I could kiss him.

Oh, would you look at that? I already am.

I hold his face and try to tell him everything I wish I could find words for. How grateful I am that he’s looking out for me. How safe I feel with him. How much I trust him.

After I don’t even know how long, Owen clears his throat. “I saw enough of the tape. I dinnae need a live reenactment.”

I pull back, biting back a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“So I’ll delete it…?” Coach confirms.

Zane circles his thumb over the back of my neck, sending tingles to the very core of me. “Delete it.”

Coach Popov hits the button and the video disappears.

“Someone is fucking with you, Zane.” Popov drops his chin and looks at Zane under his bushy brows. “But after everything I’ve seen today, you have my support. I’ll defend you ‘til I’m blue in the face. Just…” He sighs. “Just don’t make that job harder than it has to be, alright?”

62

ZANE

“Well, that settles that,” Owen remarks when we step out of Coach Popov’s office. He puts his hands on his hips, stretching his back and thrusting his stomach forward.

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