Page 34 of I Blame the Club

“Wes, this is a misunderstanding. It wasn’t Maurice who-

“Step aside, Nico. I’m not going to let a condescending asshole think he can put his hands on you.” Wes glares at Mo over my shoulder, “Is it because he hit on you? Are you not strong enough to handle a man flirting with you?”

The last blow lands, and I watch Mo’s eyes light up with a cold fire.

“The next time you go around accusing people of assault, you should check to make sure you have the right facts.”

He doesn’t so much as glance in my direction before turning and stalking off the field.

I turn to Wes with a groan, “Dude. Maurice saved me. A group of farmers ganged up on me and he beat the shit out of their truck until they left me alone.”

“What?” Wes blinks at me, the attack dog already retreating.

“Maurice. Saved. Me.” I repeat the words slowly, making sure they have time to sink in, “He literally carried me back to his place, patched me up, and then took care of me for the rest of the weekend.”

Well, he took me to a police station and got me drunk but that was close enough.

“Oh fuck.” Realization dawns until Wes looks physically ill, “Why didn’t you say something?”

I groan, “I tried but you were out for blood. Which I appreciate from the bottom of my heart, but in this instance, it was very much misplaced.”

“Shit.” Raking a hand through his hair, Wes looks at me with panicked eyes, “Why didn’t you call me? We have a protocol for this type of thing.”

I sigh, “I’m sorry, Wes. By the time I could have called you, Maurice had already taken care of everything.”

“This is so messed up.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “I need to go apologize. I feel like such an asshole.”

I pat his arm, “You are an asshole, but a loyal one. You stay with the team, I’ll go talk to him. We’re kind of friends after this weekend.”

I pause, “Well, we were until you blew up at him.”

“Oh God.”

I give Wes one last supportive pat before taking off after Mo. This is the most cardio I have done all year, but somehow, I can't bring myself to feel bitter about it.

Chapter 10

Mo

Are you not strong enough?

I rip my gym bag from my locker and throw it on the bench. It may have been Wes who said the words, but the voice was all my father.

Grinding my teeth together, I yank my shirt over my head and hurl it to the ground. My mind is stuck on the same loop it’s been stuck on since the day Jonathan pulled me aside to scold me for crying, the never-ending crash and fall of disappointment landing on my shoulders.

I made sure you earned every position you worked in.

My chest starts to heave as the walls close in. I can feel the emotions bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to explode. Forcing myself to breathe through the pressure, I close my eyes and lean my forehead against the locker, letting the cold metal ground me.

“Maurice?” Nico’s voice is soft and tentative but it’s enough to break through my father’s.

“Not now, Montez.”

Keeping my eyes closed, I exhale and count down from ten. Once I reach zero, I feel composed enough to push away from the locker. I find Nico staring at me with his mouth open.

“You don’t have a shirt on.”

I frown, “If you plan on being Captain Obvious, you might as well leave.”

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