Page 26 of Mad As Hell

My jaw clenched as I waited for Coach to walk over to me. My helmet dangled loosely from my fingers, and it was only years of conditioning that kept me from tossing it around anxiously. My father had drilled it into my head to lock down all emotions, even when dealing with someone as benign to my existence as my coach.

Coach McGrath was a few inches shorter than me but still in great shape. The former NFL running back still looked imposing, even with silver coloring his temples before fading to a shock of dark hair. His dark eyes missed nothing… unless it was his assistant QB coach selling out our team last year while fucking my former fiancée. But hell, we’d all missed that.

“How are you, son?” he asked gruffly, clearly as uncomfortable with feelings and shit as I was. He was one of two men who called me son, but he was the only one who didn’t make me feel like punching something when he used the term.

“Fine,” I replied, keeping my tone even and clipped. It took all my control not to glance at my watch to see the time. Fuck, at this rate, I was going to miss seeing Maddie.

That bothered me a lot more than it probably should’ve, but that girl… Dammit. That girl fucking owned me. Last night had been brutal, and I would likely never get over the betrayed look in her eyes or the way she’d started sobbing.

I swallowed the sudden wave of emotions, shoving them back into the corner of my heart they’d escaped from as I focused on my coach.

He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “I know things have been rough on you lately.”

Everything rough hung unspoken between us. The team, the playbook, my fiancée.

As far as the school knew, Maddie was Madelaine, who had betrayed me yet again. I was still trying to work out how to undo that mess. Dad was pissed, and demanding I prove that the Cabots weren’t above the wrath of the Cain family. He was as aware as I was that we needed Maddie to go through with the marriage, but he wanted her crawling back to me in the most public way possible.

Personally, I didn’t give a fuck what my father thought, but I knew he could make Corinne’s life hell, so I had to tread carefully while I worked out how to get my girl back for real without setting off my father on my sister.

“I’m focused,” I replied honestly. I was focused: on making things right with Madison, making Dean pay, finding a way to shut my father down for good, and helping my team recover from the setback of having our plays leaked.

I was so fucking tired of this shit.

Coach’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “Ryan, you’re one of the best quarterbacks I’ve ever seen.”

I smirked a little at that, the praise feeling good even if it was useless. As much as I loved the sport, football wasn’t my end game. It didn’t matter how many scouts Coach could call in favors to come and watch me when my path was already determined. I was destined for a boardroom, not the gridiron.

“I know you’ve got plans that don’t lead to me watching you on my television on Sundays,” he added with a disappointed shake of his head, “but I worry about you. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, that dickwad of a father of yours notwithstanding.”

I let out a sharp laugh. Coach had made it abundantly clear he didn't give a damn who my father was or how much money there was in my bank account. It was one of the reasons I respected him. I was all too aware that a group of spoiled rich pricks could get a teacher or coach fired with one mediocre donation to the alumni fund, but Coach didn’t care. He told it like it was to whoever he wanted.

“I’m also more than aware of why we’re learning a whole new set of plays.” His gaze caught mine. “Again.”

The smile fell from my lips. “It’s complicated, sir.”

“I’m sure it is,” he muttered. “Which is why I’m going to give you some advice.”

I tilted my head and waited.

“There’s more to life than the expectations of others,” he said quietly. “I’m well aware of who you are and how easily you command this school like it’s an extension of this team. People look up to you, respect you. And I see how you put up a wall of not giving a fuck, but being vulnerable doesn’t make you weak. Loving someone doesn’t make you weak.”

I nodded slowly. “Thanks, Coach.”

He slapped my shoulder with his ever present clipboard. “Hit the showers. You smell like ass.”

I grinned and turned to jog back to the locker room. Most of the team was almost done in the showers by the time I started mine. I let the hot water pelt my shoulders as I quickly scrubbed myself clean.

I wrapped a towel around my waist before stepping out and walking to my locker. When I realized my friends were gathered in front of it, I slowed.

“What?” I demanded, my gaze flicking between them as the sounds of the team leaving echoed in the room.

Ash grimaced. “Something happened at breakfast.”

My heart sank like a fucking stone. “Maddie.”

Linc gave a terse nod, looking ready to rip someone’s head off. “Brylee started shit.”

“It’s not good,” Court added grimly, his dark hair still wet and curling around his collar.

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