Page 82 of Huge Games

"Shouldn't we leave this to the police?"

"They have way more pressing things to deal with. This is never going to be a priority. You didn't see how they looked at Celine like she brought this all on herself by being promiscuous."

Dornan's quiet for a while, and I think I can hear him rubbing his stubbly chin, the way he does when he's thinking. "Okay. I have class now, but can we get him before practice?"

"Yeah. I'm not going to practice, but I can be there before."

"Have you told Coach?"

"Not yet. It's next on my list."

"Okay. I'll see you there."

We hang up and I grab my bag and head to my class. It's a relief to have something to think about that isn't worrying about my mom, worrying about Celine, or wanting to tear off Eddie's balls and feed them to him piece by piece.

My fingers move over my keyboard like lightning, and I get lost in the lecturer’s words and the subject he's immersing us in. By the end, I have pages of notes and a plan for how to complete the assignment that's due next week.

I wonder how Celine's getting on with the course I've tutored her in. Her dad was saying she's failing and he's going to withdraw financial support for her. I don't want her to drop out. She needs to stay on track and make the most of this opportunity. I need to get her to see that education is the key to being self-reliant. For the first time in a long time, I find myself grateful that my fucked-up home life has given me the inspiration I need to improve my life. There is no way I'm going back to the kind of existence I had in my childhood. I'm ready for bigger and better things. I will make my way in the world, however hard I have to struggle to do it.

I get a few minutes to eat the sandwich in my bag and glug down a large bottle of water before it's time to meet Dornan. I haven't planned what I'm going to do to Eddie or even what I'm going to say. I just know I have to make him admit that he's the one who released the video to get the proof I need. I'll take his phone and hand it to the police with the passcode if I have to.

Dornan's standing outside the locker room with hishands in his pockets. He nods a greeting to me.

"Have you seen him?"

He shakes his head. "He's always late."

"Maybe we should stand over there." I nod to the wall away from the door. At least then, Eddie won't see us when he's approaching, and we can step into view when it's too late for him to get away.

We wander in the direction I pointed to and wait. It's weird that I now feel more comfortable around Dornan than I ever have with another man. There's no competition between us even though we obviously care for the same woman. I used to feel jealousy towards him, but that emotion has disappeared and been replaced by respect.

I know he's got my back, and that's something I'll never take for granted.

"There he is." Dornan's off before I have a chance to react. "Hey, Eddie," he yells.

Eddie's rushing to the locker room when he jerks in reaction to his name. His eyes widen when he sees us both barreling in his direction. He grabs the handle to the building as though he hopes he can get inside to safety, but Dornan grabs his shirt and yanks him back. He's not a small guy, but he's about fifty pounds lighter than me and Dornan. "What the fuck?"

He sounds indignant, as though we have no good reason to drag him around the back and kick the ever-loving shit out of him. If he pretends that he's not the one who circulated the video, I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself.

Eddie struggles against Dornan's grip but only to free himself, not to land any punches. He knows that against the two of us, he doesn't stand a chance.

"You can come with us willingly, or we'll drag you. You choose." Dornan's growl is surprisingly menacing for such a nice guy.

"I didn't do anything."

I jab him in the chest to silence him. "We know what you did. Don't humiliate yourself by pretending to be a good guy."

"But…"

"Shut the fuck up, Eddie."

As Dornan shoves him forward by the neck, I lead them around the back of the building. This doesn't require an audience. It's better for all of us that what's spoken about and done next remains between us.

Eddie ends up with his back pressed against the rough brick wall. He's panting and sweating, and his face has gone a weird mix of red and gray.

"Give me your phone." He looks like I've slapped him, and he makes no move to get it. It's stuffed into the front of his jeans. "Get it, or I'll get it, and I don't think you want me grabbing at things that are around your filthy junk."

"My filthy junk fucked your girl," he says, and I jolt forward, making him recoil before I start to laugh.

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