Page 79 of Checks & Bonds

I grabbed him by the collar of his jersey and pulled him closer. My next punch hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over, gasping for air. I didn't relent. Another punch, this time to his ribs. I felt something give under my knuckles, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the storm inside me.

He tried to raise his hands in defense, but I swatted them away like they were nothing. Another punch to the face left his nose a bloody mess. He crumpled to the ground, and I stood over him, chest heaving with exertion and fury.

Coaches and players shouted around us, their voices merging into an indistinct roar. Someone grabbed me from behind, trying to pull me off him, but I shrugged them off violently.

Dan looked up at me from the ground, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. His eyes were wide with a mix of fear and confusion.

“You think you can just ruin lives and get away with it?” My voice was a growl that barely sounded like my own.

“Mathers—” He coughed up blood and tried to speak again. “I didn’t?—”

Another punch silenced whatever excuse he had ready. His head snapped back, and he collapsed fully onto the turf.

Finally, strong arms encircled mine from behind and yanked me away. My breath came in ragged gasps as two coaches wrestled me backward, away from Dan's limp form.

"That's enough!" one of them barked in my ear.

I struggled for a moment longer before letting myself be dragged back. My knuckles throbbed with pain, smeared with Dan's blood. His teammates crowded around him, trying to help him up.

The field buzzed with frantic energy as everyone tried to make sense of what had just happened. But all I could see was Dan's broken form on the ground and the rage that still simmered within me.

Just as the chaos settled, I saw her. Freya appeared on the edge of the field, her face a mask of shock and confusion. Her eyes went wide when they locked onto me, but she quickly shifted her attention back to Dan, who was struggling to pick himself up from the ground.

"Freya?" I barely managed to say her name before she stormed past me.

Without warning, she drew back her arm and punched Dan square in the face. The crack of her fist meeting his jaw echoed across the field, louder than any of my blows. My eyes widened in surprise.

Freya pulled back her hand, hissing in pain. "You're a piece of shit, Dan," she spat, shaking her injured fist.

Dan collapsed again, this time not even attempting to get up. Blood dribbled from his nose and mouth, mixing with the grass below. Freya stood over him, breathing heavily, her entire frame trembling with fury.

"Freya," I called out again, more firmly this time.

She turned to face me, eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and something else—something raw and unspoken that hung heavy between us. The tension around us thickened as players and coaches looked on in stunned silence.

"I couldn't let him get away with it," she said through gritted teeth, voice barely above a whisper but charged with intensity. "I didn't —"

I stepped closer to her, our breaths mingling in the cold morning air. For a moment, we just stood there, united in our rage against Dan and everything he represented.

"I know," I replied softly.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke our trance. Coaches were coming over to intervene further, their faces set in grim determination. Freya and I shared one last look before reality came crashing back in around us.

"Why?" I barked out, the word tearing from my throat like a wild animal.

Dan looked up at me, his face a bloody mess, before turning his gaze to Freya. "You don't understand," he muttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "I've been working towards this my whole life."

"Don't fucking look at her," I snapped, taking a step forward.

"I didn't have a choice," he continued, his voice trembling.

"What's going on here?" one of the coaches demanded, stepping between us with authority.

"You know you've ruined your life, right?" I said, my voice cold and cutting.

"That's not what your uncle said," Dan replied, eyes narrowing as he wiped blood from his lip.

My blood went cold. My uncle? The words hung in the air like a noose tightening around my neck.

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