Page 161 of The Wrong Play

The second the whistle blew, I was gone.

I ripped off my helmet, tossed it without thinking, and sprinted for the sideline.

“Thatcher!” Coach Everett’s voice boomed from the sideline, pissed as hell. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even look at him.

The assistant coach stepped forward, like he thought he could block me, and I shoved past him without a second thought.

“Thatcher, you step off this field, you’re benched for the rest of the season!” Everett bellowed, his voice cutting through the roaring crowd.

But I didn’t hesitate, not for a second. Because Riley was out there somewhere. Terrified.

Nothing else fucking mattered.

The crowd was a blur. A blur of team colors and screaming fans and pounding music. Of bodies pressing in too close as I shoved my way through them, barely seeing anything beyond the frantic need to find her.

I didn’t have my phone, so I couldn’t track her.

All I had was the memory of her face. That terror, sharp and raw in her wide eyes as she’d looked back over her shoulder.

I cut through the concourse, scanning every doorway, every exit, searching for any sign of her. My pulse was a steady drum in my ears, drowning out the mayhem of the stadium.

The girls’ bathroom.

I didn’t even hesitate.

A few girls squealed when I pushed inside, their eyes going wide at the sight of me storming through the doorway. Someone muttered something about me being lost. Another gasped, clutching her friend’s arm. I ignored them all.

“Riley!” My voice echoed off the tiled walls.

No answer.

I strode deeper, feeling desperate. If she wasn’t in here, I didn’t know what I’d do.

Then, a stall door creaked open.

And there she was.

Her eyes were red, her cheeks damp, her lips trembling as she stared at me like she couldn’t believe I was standing there.

“Jace,” she whispered, shaking her head. “What—why are you here?”

I exhaled sharply, relief flooding through me now that I could see her, touch her. “I saw you running,” I said, my voice softer now, but still laced with the adrenaline thrumming through my veins. “I saw you look back like something was after you. You really think I wouldn’t come for you?”

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“You need to go back,” she whispered. “You’re—Jace, you’re in the middle of a game. You can’t just?—”

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face before stepping closer, cupping her jaw, tilting her face up to mine.

“I don’t give a shit about the game right now, Riley.” My voice was firm, steady. “You’re crying in a fucking bathroom, and I need to know why.”

She shook her head again, faster this time, stepping back, arms wrapping around herself.

“I’m fine.” The words were a lie, shaky and weak.

I scoffed. “Yeah. You look real fine.”

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