I exchanged a glance between the two, this Mallick guy literally up on this ref, and I definitely noticed when he took a step back. The ref did, a grown fucking man before he brought his whistle to his mouth. “Back on the field or I’m throwing you out of the game.”

“I fucking dare you, bro.”

The whistle blew, and the ref called it, throwing him out with a wave of his hand, and my jaw dropped. Mallick’s did too, then suddenly, a few more guys from his team were sprinting toward the sidelines. The game was still going, by the way, but the three additional players totally left the field.

“What’s going on?” one of them called, the first to get to the sidelines, and the other two Windsor Prep players flanked behind him. One of the two was leaner like Mallick and the other was one of the more bigger guys on their team. Actually, he was easily the biggest guy on this whole damn field and literally looked like a man-boy. What did they feed these dudes, steroids? The guy who got here first gripped his helmet, his hair blond behind it. “Wolf, why aren’t you on the field?”

“This shitbag just threw me out of the game,” Mallick barked. His name was Wolf, apparently. I found that unusual, but as I was in the middle of this shit, I just continued to keep my mouth fucking shut.

“And you will be too, Prinze, if you, Reed, and Ambrose don’t get back on that field,” the ref yelled to the guy who spoke to Mallick. He did this quick, and needless to say, he didn’t stick around. The ref blew the whistle, then headed back toward the game. The two guys behind Prinze yelled “bullshit.” Mallick obviously felt the same way, but he didn’t fight it when he stormed off the field. He flew past me, but I noticed that he glanced my way before he did.

I wanted to say sorry for… well, I really didn’t know what I did. He didn’t have to go to bat for me, and I definitely hadn’t asked him.

Instead, I held my camera, watching on as he severed his gaze from me. He shook his head before heading toward the track and had to pass our fans in the stands to do so. A few of them yelled at him while he did, the crowd amped.

“You think your shit don’t stink, Mallick! Why the fuck would you disrespect the ref like that and onourturf,” one of them called before throwing a bottle at him. It hit Mallick’s helmet, glass exploding, and Mallick immediately cut a look in that direction.

My breath stopped, everything stopped, and even a lot of shouting in the crowd. It was like time had stopped in that moment, that long,agonizingmoment.

I wished it would have lasted.

Because time moved too quickly after that, Mallick throwing his helmet…

Mallick disappearing in the stands.

The dude scaled the bleachers, actually scaled them, and my heart ceased to function when the crowd screamed as a boy the size of a lion grabbed hold of the guy who’d thrown a bottle at him.

No, not a lion… a wolf.

Nothing but pure unadulterated rage could be described as Wolf brought the guy up and drove his fist down so hard the man’s head jerked back. A woman in the crowd shrieked, the stands exploding, and Wolf’s teammates (who’d returned to the field) doubled back. Prinze, Ambrose, and Reed ran toward the stands. They ran to Wolf who was clocking that guy who’d assaulted him over and over.

Oh my God.

It was like I was frozen, ice freezing both my limbs and body. Wolf’s three teammates entered the stands too, and one of them managed to get Wolf under his arms. The name Prinze on his back, he held him while Ambrose and Reed tried to keep the fans away. With the three boys coming onto the scene and stopping Wolf, I thought this was over. It should have been over.

It may have been had someone not hit Prinze.

The guy, a fan, had come out of nowhere, and he punched Prinze right in the arm. It was the only hit the guy got before Prinze let go of Wolf and started pummeling the guy who hit him. Prinze socked the guy over and over, and unrestrained, Wolf continued to wail on the guy who’d thrown the bottle. That guywasn’tmoving, clearly passed out but the blind rage hurled Wolf’s fists. He didn’t stop, and Ambrose and Reed found themselves in a similar fight. Fans were tackling them, and my hair blew across my face as orange and navy uniforms suddenly zipped past me.

The boys’ teammates.

They came… in droves—all of them. The entire Windsor Prep team had left the field to aid their teammates, and once they did, that gave license for our guys. Our team’s red and black uniforms zoomed past me too, and the ice bath hit again. Chaos literally happened in front of my eyes.

The bleachers, thegoddamn world,exploded in what had to be only a few minutes, seconds. There were players fighting players, players fighting fans, and my camera hung deftly from my fingers. I nearly dropped the most important thing in my entire goddamn life. My father’s camera was irreplaceable, literally the most important thing to me.

Knowing that, I lifted it, nutting the fuck up. This wasn’t the story I came for, but it was here and…

My shutter flicked quickly, anger and rage in front of my lens. I had no problem capturing the fight, nor the story’s central focus. I stayed on Wolf Mallick.

And I didn’t let go.

CHAPTERONE

Fawn - the present

“I have to say, Ms. Greenfield, I’m very happy with what I’ve both seen and heard from you today. You have a very good chance at this internship. A real good chance.”

Sitting across from Kurt Ackerman, Kurtfrom the New York TimesAckerman I had to say, I felt what he said. The interview had gone well, and I’d provided my best work for him today.