Page 59 of Love Me Steadfast
Something inside me snaps.
I swing hard, and my fist lands. Pain erupts in my bones, but there’s a surge of power to my muscles. A swift and addicting release of emotions I didn’t know I was holding inside.
The shouting gets louder and people rush at us, pulling us apart. Unspent adrenaline floods my veins, and it takes me too long to stop fighting my way free.
“What the hell?” A big-bellied man wearing a white apron drags me toward the back of the diner, panting. “This ain’t no boxing ring.”
Red and blue flashing lights swing outside the diner’s front windows, and I release a shaky breath. Shit. Zach’s on duty tonight, and that is no doubt his SUV that just pulled up.
Fighting was bad enough. Facing my brother is going to be ten times worse.
Zach handsme the ice pack from our freezer and leans back against the counter. He might be my rock-steady brother, but towering over me in his dark green uniform, tool belt, and vest, he’s intimidating as hell. “Start talking,” he says, his jaw muscles flexing.
I drop onto the kitchen stool and drape the ice pack across my throbbing knuckles. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight.”
“So you tried to end it instead?” he replies, staring me down.
“Theo was outnumbered! I couldn’t just stand there.” My angry voice echoes in the empty kitchen. At least Sofie is driving Emmie and Wren home right now, so we’re not keeping her up.
Zach runs a hand through his hair. “You could have been seriously hurt. Or what if one of the girls got too close and ended up hurt by accident?”
“I would never hit a girl.”
He shakes his head. “Fighting is dangerous, Will.” He nods at my hand. “And risky. Kinda hard to throw with a broken hand.”
“It’s not broken.”
“Thank fuck.” He slams his hands to his hips. “You know what happens if you fight at school? It’s an immediate five-day suspension. Not only does that put you in a very bad light, Coach would bench you like that.” He snaps his fingers.
“I know.”
“Do you? Because I’m not seeing a whole lot of remorse.”
My shoulders sag. “I’m sorry.” I don’t mean to be defiant. And I know I screwed up. But the owner didn’t press charges and nobody got hurt—not really. Zach’s making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be.
“When we were little, we couldn’t fight Kristov,” I say, keeping my eyes on my hands. “He hurt you.”
A flicker of vulnerability shines in his eyes, but he shakes his head. “That’s in the past. Kristov’s behind bars.”
Doesn’t he understand? We were powerless then.
We’re not powerless now.
“The scout from University of Oregon is coming to see you play again next week,” he says. “What do you think happens to that opportunity if you’re warming the bench?”
Longing and fear twist together inside me, making my ribs feel too small for my chest. Oregon has been my top school since I was ten. They consistently lead the pack, draw the best players. Getting picked up by them is my best chance at a career in the NFL, my dream.
I shift the ice pack. “That guy made a comment about Morgan. He didn’t know Theo was her brother. He…” I sigh. “...wanted a turn with her.”
Zach’s eyes darken. “That’s what he said?”
I nod.
“Shit.” He stares at his boots.
“I know fighting is wrong, but can you honestly say you would have just stood there if Sawyer or Hutch jumped some asshole for saying shit like that about Linnea?”
His cheeks pale. “There are other choices besides fighting.”
