Page 38 of Leave Me Broken

I narrow my eyes. “What is it about, then?”

Could he be thinking this is a way to get his daughter back on my team? Because I just said my word is final, like it was when I kicked Olivia from my team. I haven’t regretted it once, and I would never take her back. She was even worse to Payson and way more unstable than Alyssa. I can’t risk anything more happening to my girl. I refuse to keep putting her in harm’s way.

“If it’s about Olivia, I don’t—”

“It’s not.”

Not about Alyssa, not about Olivia. What the hell else could he need to talk to me about? I catch sight of the two people still on the steps, making out once again. “If this is about Maggie, I have no control over that. Speak to her father if she’s breaking a law by dressing like that outside of the house.” He falls into my seat and slams the door behind him.

“I don’t give a fuck about the Burtons. And Olivia is happy where she is. Drive.”

Jethro Gilbert might even be a bigger asshole than me. Probably the same height and size. He’s covered in tattoos that just barely peak out from his all-black suit. His brunette hair is always gelled back, and his face gives off a don’t-fuck-with-me look. Payson says I’m moody—and I am when it comes to her, but Jethro is on a whole other level. Like if he smiled, hell would freeze over and birds would fall from the sky.

“Stop fucking staring at me and drive.”

I throw my car in drive, not because he told me to but because I don’t want to be here anymore than he obviously does. “What about your car?”

He waves me off, typing on his phone. “I’ll have someone pick it up for me.”

“I have plans, so what do you want? I’m not replacing Alyssa with Olivia if that is what you want.” I eye him from the side as I pull up to the gate. Jethro rolls his window down and without a word, the guard opens the gate. I’d love to know what this dick’s deal is. He seems to have ins everywhere.

“I’m not bringing Olivia back to this hellhole,” he deadpans.

Okay, then what the fuck is he doing in my car?

Jethro slides his phone into his jacket pocket and sighs while scrubbing a hand down his sharp jaw. “You seem to care for Payson Murphy.”

I pull my lips into a firm line. “She is on my team, yes.”

His green eyes burn into the side of my face. “More than a coach should.”

It’s not hot in my car but I’m fucking sweating. Most people I would probably tell them exactly how much I care for Payson, but it doesn’t seem smart to admit to a lawyer about my inappropriate relationship with a player.

He continues, not waiting for my answer. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say you are not a pervert who is preying on a younger girl.” He pauses dramatically and I stay perfectly still, only focusing on my driving. I don’t know where I’m heading because I was heading to Payson’s granddad’s but I’m not bringing Jethro Gilbert with me.

Figuring I need to say something, “Payson has had a hard life. I think she requires more guidance than the rest of my team, yes.”

“I agree. Which is why I’m in your car.”

What does he mean he agrees? What does he know about Payson? “What is it you want to talk about, then?”

“I want to talk about Payson.”

15

Payson

Having a strained MCL and ACL sucks. I can’t imagine them being torn. Ash is being such a baby and hardly letting me practice. I agreed to sit out the games this week, and since we don’t have any games this weekend, I have plenty of healing time before Week of Pink. Unfortunately, that leaves me riding the pine with Alyssa, but surprisingly it hasn’t been that bad. She hasn’t really talked. That’s been the best part of this whole thing. Alyssa genuinely acts like she feels bad. Not that I care, I want her to feel bad. I want her to feel more than bad, terrible actually.

I use the handrail on the bus steps to help me up. A small hand grabs my arm as if they are attempting to help me too, but failing. I know it’s not Ash, so I assume it’s Janelle, but when I look back, I see blonde hair, just not my best friend’s golden blonde.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to help, Murphy.”

“You want to help?” I snap. “How about you go back to Saturday and not tackle me and cause this.” I point to my stupid leg. I’m wearing sweatpants so you can just barely see the stupid brace under it, but I know she knows it’s there because she winces like I hit her. “Why don’t you just leave me alone and stop trying to ruin every single part of my life? Your entire family has spent so much time doing your best to hurt me. When will it be enough?”

A single tear tracks down her face but she’s quick to push it away. Her back steels but she says nothing.

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