Page 98 of Brutal Game

The next morning, I woke up before Aviva, who was curled up on my bed. For a little while, I laid there, listening to her breathe, letting it ground me. Finally, I reluctantly got up. She’d hopefully sleep for a while, long enough for me to go do what I needed to before coming back and taking her shopping.

For a moment, I considered locking the door behind me so she couldn’t leave. But I’d be able to find her easily, thanks to the microchip in her neck, and I wanted to give her the semblance of freedom.

I drove to campus, my fingers tapping on the wheel. Last night had freaked me out and fucked me up in the head. I believed Aviva, but I didn’t believe her brother. There was no real evidence—except that weird file with her brother’s name.

I needed answers.

“Come in,”Coach called through his office door.

I twisted the knob, entering the same space I’d been in last night. I’d been careful to make sure everything was in its right place before we’d left. Seeing him sitting behind his desk was both reassuring and disconcerting. Was it my imagination, or was there a whisper of Aviva’s scent in the room?

“Jack.” Coach greeted me with a warm smile. “It’s great to see you outside the arena.” His smile turned to a look of concern. “Something’s wrong. Why don’t you sit down and tell me about it.”

He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. I sat, and he steepled his fingers.

“What’s going on?”

I swallowed. This was awkward as hell. “Why did Asher Gold leave the team?”

Coach sighed. “We’ve talked about this.”

We had. But I needed reassurance. “Can you talk me through it again? It was a pretty…extreme accusation he launched against you, and?—”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Coach shook his head. “Asher Gold was—is—a troubled young man. Orphaned young, without much guidance in his life. And a huge chip on his shoulder. He felt entitled to his place on the team, and when it was in jeopardy by poor performance, he took it out on me.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, searching his eyes.

I’d always been able to pride myself on being able to tell when someone was hiding something, but my gut warred with my brain. Coach wasn’t lying, and the discomfort I feltwas because Aviva had put doubt in my mind, not because I was sensing lies.

Right?

Coach straightened. “You don’t believe his accusations, do you, Jack? Because I have to be frank with you, after the relationship I’ve built with you over the years, that would hurt. I think of you like a son. I think of all my players as sons, but you in particular. For you to believe I could do something so heinous…” he trailed off, looking away.

I’d hurt him.

Because Asher Gold was lying. I might not know for sure, because I’d never seen him face-to-face, but I was positive.

I relaxed. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell got into my head.”

Coach smiled a sad smile. “I’m assuming his sister did.”

Now it was my turn to straighten. “You knew Aviva was Asher’s sister?”

“After you had your meltdown at the opening game, I looked into her. Wanted to make sure she wasn’t trying to manipulate you or screw you over. It was easy to put two and two together. Look, Jack, I’d never begrudge you a relationship. You should find someone who you care about, or at least takes care of your…” he coughed, “needs. But be careful, okay? Not everyone has your best interests at heart. Sometimes we want to see the best in people, even when they only give us their worst. And you’re at a point in your career where a mistake like that could cost you everything. Yourteameverything. They need you to lead them, to stay strong and keep winning, okay?”

The insinuation against Aviva immediately made me want to defend her. Coach wasn’t right about her, he didn’t know her like I did.

“How about this?” Coach suggested. “Why don’t we make a time for me to meet her? Dinner at my house. You haven’t been over in a long time. That way I can feel her out, and she can see that I’m not a monster.”

There was no way that would go well. Who knew what my little fury would do without witnesses.

“I’m bringing her to the alumni dinner,” I offered.

Coach bestowed a warm smile. “That works too, son.”

“See you at practice,” I said, mostly relieved and reassured again.

As I rose and went to the door, Coach called my name.

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