Page 96 of These Wicked Games
“You both . . . the perverted way you looked at each other. You were a poison. You had to go.”
“You ruined my chance for that?” Oli shakes his head.
“You never had a chance.” Tripp smiles wide, his face purple. “They were never there for you.” Oli blinks at him a moment,before cocking his fist back and punching him. I hear the crunch of his nose as Tripp screams, and Oli let’s him go, watching him crumple to the floor.
“Oli—”
Tripp yells. “I’m going to press charges. You’ll never play again.”
“Or . . .” We both startle, hearing Ryker come into the locker room with his phone. “I filmed the entire thing, and instead you're going to prison you dick.” Ryker beams. “Smile.”
“And how long have you known about the abuse?” Oli’s fingers keep tapping, and while my father got arrested I’m sure my man would be just as happy putting him six feet in the dirt.
I reach out, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. Oli didn’t say much to me on the ride over from the arena. So much happened tonight and I know his mind is on Grey as well. There’s still no news. Oli texted Atlas, telling him about what happened, and said we’d be over once we’re done answering questions.
“For a few weeks now,” Oli says. “I didn’t know about the drug test, though I suspected something.” I almost snort.
“And Mr. Tavares, you want to press charges?”
“Yes.” Oli now squeezes my hand. I can still feel his knee bouncing. Tonight was a lot, between Grey getting injured, Oli saying he loved me on national TV—which I still haven’t said anything about—then my father. Ryker had gone down to our team doctorafter the game to get two stitches on his eyebrow from when a stick got him in the face. When he came back, he heard our conversation and made the quick decision to start filming.
I still can’t believe it’s finally over.
“Will he get out on bail?”
The officer shakes his head. “We see him as a flight risk. His house has been searched and we found a plane ticket for Colombia, so he’s being held without bond. There’ll also be an investigation into a Dr. Wexel. Forging test results and contaminating a player’s tests isn’t something that will be taken lightly.”
“Fuck the tests,” Oli snaps. “What about the abuse?”
“He’ll be dealt with to the full extent of the law.” He tries to reassure us, but I know how this could go. He might get off with a slap on the wrist. We have evidence, though, and with the drug tests he could see years, maybe decades.
Either way, I’m done. It’s over. “We’ll keep you updated.” The other cop slides his card to me. “If there’s anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact us.” The officer gives me a look. “There will be a trial. Don’t worry,” he says, looking back at whatever the fuck he’s writing down. “There’s a lot of evidence to support this, plus the confession about the drug tampering. That doctor will definitely lose his license as well. The media storm will be intense, though. I just want to warn you and yourfriend.”
“Boyfriend.” I glare at him. God, that just doesn’t feel right. I don’t like the way it sounds. It’s too little for what I feel for him. “He’s my partner.” The officer blinks at me, unimpressed by this declaration and writing something else down.
“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” He hands it to me and I stuff it into my pocket. “I hope you and your . . .boyfriendhave a better night.”Do not punch the officer. Don’t punch him. My chair scrapes loudly and slowly against the floor as I rise to my full height, looking down at him.
“Will do.” I turn to leave, weaving through the precinct. I feel Oli at my back. I want to hold him. My nightmare is over but also just beginning. People will poke and prod at this for months, maybe years. There’ll be questions everywhere we turn and documentaries made. It’s all anyone will be talking about, and there’ll be no escaping it the way I know he’ll want to.
What if it becomes to much for him?
Oli pretends to be unbothered, but it’s just a mask he wears while running away from all our problems. We don’t have to run anymore, though, and if he does he can run straight into my arms where he belongs. I’m not letting him go.
I take down my hair, shaking it out and pulling it back into a bun on top of my head. He turns to me outside and grabs my wrist, making me let my hair go, and it tumbles down my shoulders. Oli’s soft smile is a gentle caress. He slowly pulls a curl between his fingers, smiling as he watches it spring back. “Your hair should be spilled across my pillow right now as I fuck away the day we’ve just had.” He steps closer, cupping my jaw, his thumbs soothing me. “How are you—”
“I love you.” I won’t hold it back anymore. Tonight was too much, but in all the terrible chaos I can’t forget the words he said on national TV.
“Who I’m in love with has nothing to do with the sport I play.”
“I’ll be okay. I promise. Don’t treat me like I’m made of glass. Not now.”
Oli looks at me a moment before he tugs me against his body, hugging me tight. At first I’m stiff—I don’t know what he’s doing—but then he buries his face into my neck. “I got you. It’s over.”
I don’t know why, but I crumble. “Then why does it feel like it’s only just starting?”
He pulls back to look at me, and he cups my face as I soak in the soft look in his eyes. There’s nothing I won’t do for him. It hits me now, how real this is between us. I’ll fight every day of my life if Oli is who I get to come home to. The sun to my moon. The stars to my earth. “It’s over, babe.” He kisses my forehead. “He won’t hurt you anymore. Come on.” He presses one last kiss to my face. “Let’s go see Grey.”
“Fuck.” Atlas puts his head in his hands. He’s been here for hours and I want him to go get some sleep, but I know it’ll take an effort to get him away from Grey’s side. They have a bond that’s strong, even closer than Grey’s and Oli’s. He’s not helping anyone here like this, though.
