Page 113 of Coach
It not only meant dignity, I reminded myself, but each item in the basement that wasn’t just bare cinderblock walls and cement floors meant I could potentially find or craft a weapon.
I couldn’t imagine that my old coach would spend every moment with me. He had to pay for the house, for one. There had to be some sort of job allowing him to afford that.
Sure, maybe he had cameras, but if I was smart, I could find a way to forge the weapon before he could stop me.
I was about to try to knee-walk across the basement when I heard a loud groaning sound, a click, footsteps, and another groan, followed by more steps.
He was coming.
He was already here.
“You’re awake,” Coach Dover said as he clumsily made it to the lowest step, his gaze fixed on me. His one leg had a bulge around the thigh from where he’d patched up the screwdriver wound.
A chill washed down my spine at seeing those damn see-through eyes pinned on me.
“Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” he asked, tone light, friendly.
I wanted to rant, rave, scream, spit, fight.
But if he was being calm and friendly, I figured my best bet was to mirror that back to him.
Because this wasn’t the same old Coach Dover; this version of him had clearly been hitting the gym. He’d shredded a bunch of weight and added on a ton of muscle.
A man that big with that much strength was really, really dangerous.
As sick as it made me feel, I made my voice sweet, almost a little coy.
“I like the colors. They’re… nostalgic.”
“Speaking of,” he said, pleased that I’d made the connection.
He walked over to a small chest and pulled out something that had my blood turning to ice.
My old soccer uniform.
He took it?
Hekeptit?
“Oh, wow,” I said, trying not to let my voice wobble.
“I have a lot of good memories of this uniform.”
“Me too,” I lied.
“You were so easy to track across the field. All that red hair…”
Coach Dover stroked the material as he said this, his eyes far away, lost in a memory.
I sat there quietly, letting him have it.
The less time I had to engage with him, the better.
“And then that school took it all away from me.”
The tension in his jaw had my spine snapping straight. His meaty hands curled hard into the material of the uniform. I couldn’t help but imagine those same hands grabbing me, squeezing me.
I had to try to calm him back down.
