“You know you’re always welcome, Thorne.”
I scratch my jaw, unsure what to say. “Thanks.”
“Did you know I knew your dad?” he asks. “Before?”
Before.
It’s such a fucked up terminology.
Before he died.
Before I killed him.
Before my world turned upside down.
Of course, I knew.
We’d been talking about me playing for LAU for years before everything went down, and I flew to the opposite side of the country to escape. Pretty sure it was Sanderson’s connection to my dad that convinced the dean to let me on the student roster in the first place after I screwed up at Dixie Tech. But what do I know?
Ignoring his question, I reply, “Can I ask your opinion on something, Coach?”
“Sure thing. What do you need?”
“Shorty’s an abusive asshole and is stalking his ex. I wanna know how you think I should handle the situation.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “That’s a serious allegation, Thorne.”
“It’s true,” I argue. “Her name’s Mia Rutherford. She doesn’t want to go to the police. She thinks ignoring the situation is going to work, but I don’t think it will. I know scouts are watching Shorty play, and I wanna know what I can do to get him to leave her alone. If there’s anything you can do to get him to leave her alone.”
He tosses his hat on his desk and holds his head in his hands as if he’s been blindsided. “Shit, Thorne.”
I shrug one shoulder, unsure what he wants me to say.
He looks up at me again. “And she doesn’t want to involve the police?”
“No.”
With a sigh, he rests his elbows on the table and taps his steepled fingers against his frown. “All right. I’ll take care of it.”
“You will?”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.” I stand up and wipe my palms against my pads.
“And, Thorne?” Coach says.
“Yeah?”
“You’re a part of this team. Even if you decide you don’t want to play a single game. You can count on us. All right?”
I nod, surprised by how much it means to me. “Thank you, Coach.”
“Now, get out there. You’re late for practice.”
37
ASHLYN