Page 27 of The Keeper

It flew off the side of his foot with a thud, carrying small blades of grass through the air. I lunged to my right, punching it away with ease.

“Like I said, not in this lifetime. Let’s go again.”

Cade loved a challenge as much as I did. And holy shit, did he have a leg. Each time I punched away the ball or caught it, the velocity vibrated through my hands. He knew my weaknesses as well as I knew his, so a few balls did find the back of the net. Gallagher was talented and savvy enough to know that if he kicked it just a fraction of an inch above the span of my arms, he’d score every time.

“Hey.”

We both looked to the sideline and saw one of the second team defenders, Adam Bourne, walking toward us.

Fuck me.

I scowled.

“Little brother on approach,” Cade snickered. “Wasn’t expecting it to be a family affair today.”

“Step-brother,” I growled. Why he’d shown up here was a mystery to me. He was, in all ways possible, a first rate twat.

“What’s up, Adam?” Cade sauntered over to him.

I followed, grabbing my water bottle for a quick drink.

“Just saw you both out here. Wondering why Xavier is in goal, though.”

“We’re having a quick training session for when he returns. Nothing more.”

Adam folded his arms across his chest, his pointed stare in my direction made my blood start to boil.

“You really think your suspension will be finished next week,” he sneered. “My money’s on you serving at least two more before the championship matches start.”

“You really want to do this, Adam?” I asked, spreading my arms out.

“What are you gonna do? Sucker punch me like you did to Simmons? Or maybe Donovan? That bullshit doesn’t belong on this pitch. Or did you forget that already?”

We were just about standing nose to nose at this point. I could flatten him in seconds if pushed that far. And I would love to do it.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” Cade ran between us, separating us as best he could. “The fuck is wrong with you Adam? Back off.”

Neither one of us moved. It would be a cold day in hell before I backed down first, so I held my stance, glaring at my step-brother. Growing up with him was one thing. Having him as a teammate tested my limits daily. Wild energy coursed through my veins. It simmered just below the surface, ready to swallow me whole.

“You’re nothing but a hot-tempered prima donna,” he bit out. “Dad’s right. You haven’t changed one bit since that summer.”

I swung at him without a second thought, bracing for the all too familiar feeling of flesh and bone colliding. Instead, I stumbled back a couple feet, restrained by Cade’s muscular grip. He’d somehow managed to prevent my fist from connecting with the prick’s face.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Let it go, mate. He’s not worth it.”

We exchanged the same look of knowing. Knowing what happened all those summers ago when Adam and I were always at each other’s throats at youth football. The fights. The taunts. The scuffling. His jealousy over Cade and I being chosen for something he wanted never subsided.

His misfortune of getting wrapped up with the wrong people. My misguided loyalty to keep him out of trouble. And then that one night. That one fucking night.

I sucked in a breath, pushing against Cade’s grip.

“Not worth it,” my friend repeated. “Please.”

His pleading was the only thing stopping me. I glared at Adam from behind Cade’s shoulder.

“Watch that smart ass look, Xavier,” Adam taunted from a safe distance.

“Or what?” I yelled, the muscles in my jaw twitching.

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