Page 106 of Brutal Game

He thought he did.

But he cared about his coach and his worldview more.

Inhaling, knowing that his next response could break my heart, I said, “I’m about to tell you something, and I need you to believe me. Not about my brother. About me.”

He swallowed but didn’t say anything.

I continued, barely able to get the words out. “Joshua Jensen confronted me out in the courtyard just now.”

Jack’s eyes darkened. “And?”

“And he’s guilty, Jack! You can see it in his eyes. He fucking smirked at me when he told me if I reported him people would think I was a liar?—”

Jack cut me off. “You aren’t a liar Aviva, but you have to let?—”

This time,Iinterruptedhim. “I don’t mean report him for what he did to Asher. I mean report him for what he did to me.”

Jack reared back, like I’d shocked him.

Good.

“What did he do to you?”

“Just now? He touched me.”

“He. Touched. You?” Jack’s voice was gravel, his eyes working. His fist clenched and unclenched. “How?”

“Your beloved coach grabbed me by arm and squeezed,” I said. I shuddered from the memory of his grip. “You can probably see…”

But Jack was already relaxing, clearly relieved. “I’m sure he startled you, and I’ll talk to him about it, but I’m sure he wanted to talk to you. He’s like me, a little too aggressive at times?—”

I gaped at him. “I’m sorry,” I said slowly. “You lose your shit at your own goalie for talking to me, but your coach touches me and suddenly it’s okay? Do you see how ridiculous that is?”

“He’s a good guy, Aviva. I’m sure he’ll apologize.”

“How do you not see that he’s manipulating you?”

Jack’s eyes flashed. “He’s not the one manipulating me.”

I gasped, guttural and pained, hunching in on myself protectively. He may as well have punched me directly through the heart.

“You think I’m manipulating you?” I could barely get the words out.

Jack’s jaw was set. “Coach said as much.”

“So after everything we’ve been through, after you told me you knew I wasn’t a liar, we’re back to this?”

I shook my head in shock. My eyes burned. I wanted to be angry, but anger was a secondary emotion; I hurt too much to be angry.

“Maybe you don’t mean to, but that’s what you’re doing, Aviva. You have a goal, and you’re smart about people, about psychology, and you’re utilizing it to get what you want out of me,” he rationalized.

“WhatIwant out ofyou,” I said, then repeated it. “What I want out of you. All you’ve done Jack, is take, and take, and take. The one thing I’ve asked you for—to believe me, to support me here, to trust me—and you can’t even consider the option. If there’s no trust between us, then there’s nothing.”

We both stared at each other, my chest heaving from the effort to breathe, because it hurt too much to breathe. People had started to gather, whispering. I didn’t care about a single one of them. All I cared about was that the man I’d started falling for, despite all the shit he’d done, was so set in his fragile worldview he’d decided to makemethe villain.

We were at an impasse.

“I don’t know where we go from here,” I murmured, blinking away the tears that threatened to return.

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