Page 56 of Bad Ruck

"If they're on Dominic King's side, they're bad," he insisted. "If he thinks what we just did is okay, then he's bad."

"I know it sucked, but you have to put a lid on it," I said. "We need them to think we're on their side."

He glanced over to me, then back to the road. "Aren't we? Have you been paying attention for the last few hours? Were you there for what we just did?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna get hysterical over it," I said evenly. "It was what it was."

"I'm not hysterical," he snapped. "Don't give me that greater good bullshit, either. It wasn't good for any of us, or the team."

"In the long run it will be," I said. "Look, I get it, you're pissed off. I didn't enjoy it either. For the rest of my life, I'm going to see the expression on his face. Nothing we ever do is going to make it up to him or his family. All we can do is keep on keeping on."

"It's easy for you to say, you've done shit like that before," he said.

"I promise you, it doesn't get easier each time," I said. "It gets harder. Do you think I enjoyed looking Coach Stanley in the eyes and doing that? I didn't. Frost and Dallas, they might have, but not me."

"We could have brought them along to make it easier," Storm said.

"We agreed the more of us that were involved in this, the harder it would be to hide it," I said. "It doesn't matter now; it's done. Yes, we probably will get someone from the Devils. Get used to the idea now, so you don't open your mouth at the wrong time. I don't want to end up dead because you can't contain your shit."

"I can contain my shit," he argued. "If you can contain yours."

"I have a locked box in the back of my brain for my shit," I said. I let out a long, slow breath and looked out the window, watching the dark landscape slide by. "We have to act like nothing's changed between us."

"Nothing has," he said. He shifted his position in the seat and cleared his throat.

"We both know that's not true," I said. "We haven't called each other an asshole for at least an hour."

"Asshole," he said immediately. "Just reminding myself how it felt."

I snorted. "I don't hate you." After a moment I added, "Asshole."

"Of course you do," he said. "Anyone with half a brain hates me. Including myself."

"You should give yourself some credit," I said. "You're not that bad. Bad, but notthatbad." I couldn't resist the dig.

"You too, prick," he replied. "Remind me why we got stuck doing this again?"

"Because the others are watching out for Chelsea," I said. "And because we both wanted to spare them from what we did tonight. Frost and Dallas, they enjoy killing, but this was different. Personal."

"Yeah, nothing says personal like taking your head coach out to a remote location and dealing with him," Storm said. His voice broke on the last couple of words. "Like I said, this is some bullshit."

"And we can't talk about it," I reminded him. "Not to the other guys or even Chelsea. The less they know about what we did, the better. Then they don't have to lie."

They could handle themselves, but they didn't have to in this situation. We'd save them from that much.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Was this some kind of team bonding thing?" he asked. "You could have brought Jay with you. He would have dealt with it."

"I didn't want him to have to," I said. "And I'm not sure he would have. I knew you would."

"Because I'm an asshole," he concluded.

"Because you're a badass," I said. "But if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it. The official story is, you're a heartless prick who wouldn't care what happened to his head coach."

"That's not true," he said, his voice smaller than I ever heard before.

"I know that," I said. "I think you put on an act. You want everyone to think Storm Keller, fullback, is bullet-proof andgives no shits about anyone but himself. But underneath, you're the same as the rest of us. You have feelings and shit like that."

"Maybe I do." He shrugged one shoulder, making the car veer slightly. He straightened up and pressed his lips together, his focus back on the road. "I fucking hate what we did. I want to walk into Dominic King's office and wrap my hands around his throat. Then I want to drag Otis Skinner under the water and hold them there for approximately an hour. And everyone else who has anything to do with this crap. You know what?"