Page 9 of The Players

But then a light clicked on. Someone had pulled the string on an overhead light bulb. A small, sparsely-filled janitor’s closet came into view. I knew that closet, it was one of the spaces in the school where bullies used to torment other students so they wouldn’t get caught. That had happened to me too at the start of the school year. But instead of focusing on that, I looked at the underclassmen on the screen. He was small, a freshman perhaps. He’d already been beaten. His eyes were swelling, and there were cuts and blood around his mouth and smeared across his teeth. His arms were tied behind him and the crotch of his pants was dark.

He’d wet himself.

My hand went to my mouth.Oh, no.

Had Lowell done this?

He stepped into frame as if on cue.

His leather jacket was gone and his strong, tattooed arms flexed as he grabbed the kid by the collar and pressed a gun to his temple.

Oh god. Assault was bad but now we were adding in a deadly weapon. He could get kidnapping charges too. This was bad.

The poor kid trembled as Lowell brought his face inches from his victim’s.

“Did you see anything? Did you?!”

The crying kid shook his head. Snot was bubbling from his nostrils. “P-p-please.”

“What did you see?” Lowell growled.

“Nothing. Nothing!”

“And if they ask you?”“I’ll never tell. I swear. I swear to God.” The boy began to sob. He was broken. Lowell had broken him.

The video cut off.

I closed my eyes, wishing to God I hadn’t just seen that. I knew Lowell had done bad things, but this? This was beyond bad. That kid hadn’t done anything, and he’d made him piss himself with fear. He’d beaten him and pressed a gun to his head. I knew how terrifying that had to be. And for what? To keep him from snitching?

Easton must have set Lowell up for this. But still, Lowell had gone along with it.

I pressed my head into my palms. Lowell was so sweet to me. Tender even. He worshipped my body like it was a temple, but it was more than sex. He kissed me for no reason. He held my hand when the other boys weren’t looking.

Oh, God, was I a fool?

Maybe, but once again I knew this was all Easton’s fault.

Someone had to stop him from releasing this video. Lowell would not go to jail because of me.

A text popped up.

ANONTXT: Did you like the video?

Me: Listen 2 me, Easton. You leave them alone. They have nothing 2 do with this. Your problem is with me. So face me!

ANONTXT: Gladly. 5763 Crescent Ridge Lane. Come within the hour or don’t come at all. And come alone if you don’t want that video leaked, orphan.

I stared at the text message. Did I dare?

What choice did I have? Those three boys had saved my life, Lowell included. If I didn’t try to stop this once and for all, how could I live with myself?

The question was if I went to see Easton alone, would I still be living when the sun came up?

Only time would tell.

Chapter five

Easton’shousewaslikenothing I’d ever seen before.

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