Page 20 of Whistle

It didn’t.

It was almost as if they expected me to explode. And okay, fair.

“Is that it?” I said, attempting to dispel the knot in my intestines.

“One last condition.” Mr. Sabatino cleared his throat. “Your therapy sessions will take place in Virginia… where you will attend Westbrook University to complete your degree.”

I blinked. Blinked again.

I shot out of the chair like a rocket, but this time, it didn’t fly backward into the wall because Emmett caught it.

I rushed across the room and spun, glaring at the three men. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“These are the terms upon which your release is contingent,” Mr. Sabatino stated.

“You can’t just order me across the country!” I spat. “You can’t force me to attend college.”

“I can assure you that this is in fact a binding, legal agreement. Both parties are agreeing to voluntarily settle a dispute outside of the court.”

“Dispute!” I roared. “They murdered my sister!”

“Their son did. They did not.”

“It’s the same damn thing!”

Suddenly, Rush was on his feet and coming around the table toward me. “Come off it,” he snapped. “You’ve been blaming everyone since she died. First me, now his parents. I agree they’re shitty people, but they didn’t kill Brynne. The person who did is in a cell. He got what he deserved. And if you don’t pull your head out of your ass right now, you’re going in a cell too.”

He was right. I had been blaming everyone for my sister’s death. Most of all… me.

Maybe I belonged in jail. Maybe going there would actually make me feel… better.

But then I thought about the cell I’d just come from. About the way my cellmate stared. Pretty boy. Yeah, maybe I belonged in jail, but I didn’t want to be there.

My shoulders sagged. “I can’t agree even if I want to,” I said. “I’m not enrolled at Westbrook. Pretty sure this late in the year, admission for fall is closed.”

A throat cleared. “If you’re Elite, exceptions will be made.”

Incredulous, I swung around, pinning Elite’s coach with a look. “You want me to swim for you?”

“Not me. Elite.”

I barked a laugh. “Same damn difference.”

“If Coach recruits you for the team, admission will be fast-tracked and you’ll be able to start classes next week with the rest of us,” Rush explained.

Next week? My head was swimming. “No.”

“I’m afraid these are the conditions. You are to report to Westbrook University upon release, where you will carry out the rest of the terms. You are also required to maintain a three-point-oh average. Coach Resch will send a quarterly report with your grades, attendance, and team participation, which will be reviewed and filed with the court. Your appointed therapist will also send a report.” Mr. Sabatino informed me. “If you do not agree, the offer will be rescinded and you will go to jail.”

I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were frozen, brain totally wiped of basic function, including how to survive.

My fingers felt cold. The room around me tilted. The only actual sensation penetrating my meltdown was the pain suddenly in my cheek.

It hadn’t hurt at all before, but now? Now it was screaming.

“Stop that,” someone demanded as my body was engulfed by a larger one.

Even being restrained, I remained rigid as rough, hot fingers enclosed my wrist and forced my hand away from my face. My skin tore one last time as I clawed at it before my hand was pinned to my side.

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