Page 86 of Toxic Obsession

“Is this a for sure deal?” I wanted Brody to have the best, but staying in the same town as Adam wasn’t safe for him.

“No. Coach and I have only talked.”

“Okay. Keep me posted and apply to other colleges out of state, ones where he can’t get to you on a daily basis.”

Brody’s expression fell. “I only want to play for Whitmore.”

“Bro, there are other colleges out there that are just as good as Whitmore. Plus, if I get on with the NFL, it won’t matter where you play. You’ll have eyes on you if you want to go pro.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Why did Brody sound so shocked? Had I been that much of an asshole to him over the years? We had certainly had our fights like most brothers I knew, but I loved him. God knows I’d fucked up a ton, but I protected him the best I could. “You’re a hell of player, and yeah, I’ll support you any way I can.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “Maybe we’ll play against each other in the pros like the Manning brothers.”

“Who knows? But for now, leave Wynter alone and stay off Adam’s radar. You’re going to have to explain your face to your coach, too. We should come up with a game plan. Right now, we need Adam’s money and a roof over our head, so we can’t tell anyone what’s happening.”

Brody’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought about that. I was going to tell Coach the truth.”

“You can’t. If I’m drafted and you get a scholarship, I’ll take care of anything else you need for college. Just hang on until then. We don’t have much longer to get the hell out of here.”

“All right.”

“Give me your word, Brody. I know that means something to you.”

Our gazes connected. “I swear that I won’t throw Dad under the bus … yet.”

That was good enough for me.

Chapter46

Wynter

Iwas a brat. After a week of having Ky’s journal, I’d sworn a million times to tell Quinn and hadn’t. It wasn’t that I had anything to hide from him, but Ky was my brother and I needed to read all of what was inside before I shared it with Quinn. Oddly enough, as much as I hated Ky for what he did, I still wanted to protect the good parts of him. But his journal was anything but good. It was dark and tormented, and I suspected that I was seeing Ky’s internal descent to hell.

I tugged the blankets up to my chin and snuggled farther into my bed. Quinn was gone at an away game for the weekend and so were the girls, which gave me the house to myself and time to process before I had to face another human being. I opened Ky’s book of secrets and located where I left off. There weren’t many more entries and I hoped to finish reading over the next two days and sift through my emotions before I told Quinn what I had discovered. My stomach rolled. I hoped like hell Quinn would understand, but it was a sensitive topic for both of us, and I needed to give him room to be pissed.

I fluffed my pillows behind my head and began to read.

September 20th, 2018

Today fucking sucked. Lance and his asshole jock friends ganged up on me today, but instead of using towels to leave marks, they used their fists. Who knew looking at some guy’s junk would land me in a bad situation over and over? Hell, I’d seen the entire team’s dicks at some point. We showered and changed in front of each other like it was no big deal. I honestly thought that Lance would move on to someone else because that’s how he does, but he’s hyper-focused on me. My guess is that he’s gay and in the closet, too, but that’s not my fucking problem.

I finally went to the school counselor, Myra Smith. I showed her the bruises, but she dismissed the bullying as guys accidently getting too rough. How the hell could she dismiss it as horseplay when my entire side was purple? It was a fucking miracle I didn’t have a cracked rib, but maybe that would have gotten her attention.

An idea just occurred to me. Maybe she’s fucking Lance’s father and is protecting Lance. That’s some bullshit. All the parents say, talk, tell us what’s happening so we can protect you. Fuck that, I’m trying but no one is doing shit.

It was blind luck that I met Dr. Metcalf while working at the coffee shop. He came in for a chai tea and noticed that I was limping. I was trying to hide it, but he spotted it. Shit, he was the first adult to call me over and ask if I was okay. Not even Mom and Dad noticed, but it was easy to hide from them. They thought my injuries were from soccer. Plus, after school and work, I almost immediately went to my bedroom with an excuse to do my homework. The only pitstops I made were to the kitchen and bathroom.

Dr. Metcalf began visiting the coffee shop daily, checking in on me. It’s been a few months now that I’ve talked to him, but I was afraid to put it on paper. I didn’t want to jinx it. He’s really been helping me, and I think things are looking up. He’s given me some good tools to use against Lance and the fuckers who can’t keep their hands off me. The bag of my shit I put in Lance’s locker on a Friday after practice had plenty of time to stink up the school hallways over the weekend. Since I worked in the office during fifth period, finding Lance’s locker combo had been easy.

What’s even funnier? Dr. Metcalf gave me the idea. Kind of hilarious that a psychiatrist is telling me to get revenge, but he said enough was enough. It was time to take things into my own hands, and the only way to get a bully’s attention was to bully them right back.

What the hell? Ky had gone to Mrs. Smith, and she hadn’t done a fucking thing?Fuck.It took me a minute to put the pieces together. Mrs. Smith was one of the people who had died that day.

Lance’s family had a ton of money, so maybe Mrs. Smith had sucked up to them, but that was complete negligence on her part.

A white-hot fury shot through me, sending my pulse into overdrive. I took a picture of Ky’s journal entry with my phone to investigate farther. Maybe Quinn could ask his PI to help, too. If so, I would need to turn over the journal, so I wanted to keep proof of the incriminating evidence on my cell.

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