Page 17 of Whistle

I fought back the tears threatening to spill over. The sense of relief I felt at the familiar face was so overwhelming that I started to tremble. He hated me, but I didn’t care. In that moment, he was the best fucking sight I’d seen in so very long.

“He’s bleeding. Why the fuck is he bleeding?” The commanding tone of the deep voice robbed my stare, and I glanced from Rush to the man it belonged to. Quickly, I took in his buzzed dark hair, narrowed hazel eyes, and scruff-covered jaw.

I recognized him from the brief confrontation I’d had with Elite many months ago. This was their coach. Emmett Resch, he’d said on the phone. He was an asshole.

What the hell is he doing here?

“Well, this ain’t kindergarten,” the guard replied.

“If we could have the room,” a third man said. His voice was cool and calm as though all of this was a bore.

I recognized him as Rush’s lawyer. The one who got him off when he was accused of killing my sister. I’d hated this guy for defending him. For preventing my sister from getting her justice. More than one night, I plotted ways to make him pay for defending a murderer…

Except Rush wasn’t a murderer. And this lawyer had just been doing his job.

After reminding us that no contact was allowed and they would be right outside the door, the men left, locks clicking into place when they were gone.

I glanced back at my ex-best friend. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Something passed behind his dark eyes, but then it was gone. “Brynne would want me to.”

I nodded. So this wasn’t for me. It was for my sister. Her memory.

Anger burned my stomach, making me feel like I had a sudden eruption of stomach ulcers. I told myself it didn’t matter why he came, only that he did. I could tell myself that all I wanted, but the anger scorching my gut said it did matter.

“Mr. Lawson.” The lawyer gestured to a chair on the opposite side of the table. “I’m Gordon Sabatino, a defense att?—”

I cut him off. “I know who you are.”

The man inclined his head. “I’ve been hired by Rush to represent you.”

I glanced at Rush. “You got me a lawyer.”

I knew he’d likely just flown across the country, but he looked fresh and rested. It was almost jarring. I wondered when was the last time I’d seen that look in the mirror.

“Isn’t that why you called?” he countered.

Yes. No.

“Have a seat, Mr. Lawson,” Mr. Sabatino said. “I’ve had the chance to go over your case and speak with the parties involved.”

The parties involved?

“These are some serious charges. The Cobalts are well within their rights to press?—”

The chair my ass had barely touched flew out from under me, skittering across the room and knocking into the wall. My palms stung when they slammed onto the tabletop. “Those people killed my sister! They have no right?—”

The door to the room opened, and the guard stuck his ugly mug inside.

Rush leaned over the table, inches from my reddened face. “Chill the fuck out, Bodhi. This is why you’re in here.”

I was beyond reason. Operating in pure survival mode. “They deserve everything they got!” I slammed my fist on the table, making the whole thing vibrate.

The guard pushed farther into the room.

My heart pounded so hard I wondered why it hadn’t burst, and I waited for the now-familiar slap of cold metal against my wrists.

Instead of handcuffs, something firm and warm grasped the back of my neck.

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