After the excitement of the morning, the afternoon gave way to calm and quiet. Once I’d adjusted to the stinging on my back as a constant reminder of my tattoo, I found myself following Harry, and his promises of shiny new stock, into the pawnshop. My banter with him was constant. It had become normal for us to talk in taunts interspersed with laughter, and that was only ever interrupted when his coughing fits took over and made it harder for him to respond. It was so hard to sit back and not nag him to see a doctor and do something proactive about the cough, but nagging only made him pick up a smoke and smile with defiance at you, so I left him alone, sliding a glass of water in front of him and nodding at his thanks.

I’d come to adore Harry. I knew Drew respected the hell out of him and had a tighter connection with him than most of the other guys, and I could see why. He was damn smart, and witty, too. He knew everything about everything, even the useless things that had no real place in the world. I loved working in the pawnshop just to spend time with him. I always came away feeling like I’d learned something.

Harry was assessing a diamond being pawned when I saw Libby’s car pull in through the front gates. The vehicle had barely stopped when Tate threw the passenger door out of his way and pushed out, stretching to his full height before heading to the gym rather than The Hut, which never really boded well. He’d taken a page from Drew’s book with his frustration recently, and took his issues out on the bag rather than stewing and snapping people’s heads off.

One nod of acknowledgment from Harry, and I pushed out from the shop and headed to where Libby was standing, wincing when Tate slammed the door of the workout room behind him. She jumped when I spoke, her attention having been fully on Tate.

“What happened?”

Libby released a long breath, her hands finding her hips as she stared at the building my brother had disappeared into. “They had a meeting with the new coach today.”

“Fuck. How bad was it?”

“Well…” She turned to face me and shrugged. “I didn’t think it was too bad, but I said the wrong thing, clearly.” She gestured to the building again and shook her head. “And the boys call us women dramatic.”

I squeezed her elbow and gestured to the gym with a smile. “Let me see if I can do some damage control. If you see Drew, let him know where I am, would you?”

“I will. I’m sorry, Ayda. I should have known better after the talk you had with him about this.”

“Girl, this is shit that goes back years. There’s no way you could navigate it. Thanks for being patient with him.”

Libby’s hair was in her eyes as she took one last longing look before I set off at a fast walk. I purposely didn’t ask what was said because I figured Tate would tell me the moment I entered the gym.

I heard the dull thuds and the hissed breaths as I opened the outer door and was swallowed by the shadows of the gym. Standing and watching my brother, it was easy to see the influence Drew had on him. He held himself the same way, his legs worked in the same direction, and his punches landed true and hard on the bag as he danced in and out of the rhythm. The only difference was that Tate always led with the same fist, where as Drew could switch things up when he needed to.

I let him work out his frustrations a while longer before I let him know I was there. I sat on the bench of the leg press as his hands reached out to stop the bag the moment he caught sight of me.

“The bastard is going to be replacing him as soon as coach thinks he’s ready. I not only have to deal with the asshole next season, I have to deal with him for training for the rest of this year. I just… I wanted to punch the smirk from his face when he found me in the crowd, A.”

“How long do you think the transition will take?”

“The way coach is fawning over him? A week. Maybe two. I heard him talking to Mr. Isaac about getting out of here earlier. He and his wife are going to buy an RV and see America. He doesn’t want to be here, which means we’re stuck with Hove.”

“Did Jacob say anything to you?”

Tate released the bag and dropped on a weights bench close to where I was sitting. “He didn’t need to. A look was all it took. You know what he’s like. It was the way he’d look at me when I’d ask him to throw the ball with me.”

“T, I know you’re frustrated—”

“I’m fucking beyond frustrated.”

“Language.”

Tate turned and looked at me with exasperation. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Seriously. At least until after your college interviews next year. Heathens need not apply. As for Jacob, steer clear as much as you can, do your best on the field and if he fucks with you—”

“Come to you or Drew. Yeah, you said already.” He ground his jaw, his leg jumping as his foot tapped against the mat.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

“No shit. The worst part of it all is that everyone is welcoming him back like some unsung hero. He walks around that place like he owns it. The douchebag even winked at some of the girls like he was some Hollywood pretty boy. The team thinks this is an amazing turn of events and the principal couldn’t say enough about how lucky we were to have him.”

I made a gagging motion, and the first sign of humor appeared on Tate’s face in the form of his lips twitching at the edges.

“He always was good at selling to a crowd.”

“He should sell some cars then.”

I lifted a leg and kicked Tate in the knee playfully. I hated seeing him so down and pissed off about something he loved to do. I hoped to hell that the situation wouldn’t taint his love of the game. I hoped even more that Jacob would see what an asset Tate was to the team and not mess with him every chance he got. The group of people I would fight for had grown in the past year, but Tate was my blood, and I would make sure he was happy. I would make sure he had every available path to seeing his dream come true.

“We’re gonna get through this.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to make sure this works somehow.”

“I know you will.”

I nodded, satisfied with his reaction and the calm that was slowly crawling back over him.

“You also need to apologize to Libby.”

“Fuck,” he dragged the word out and put up his hand as I opened my mouth to admonish him. “I know… language.”

“Thank you.”

We sat in silence for a while. I stared at the bag, wondering at its magical qualities to give men their power of thought back, and I was almost certain Tate was having a one-sided conversation with Libby in his head. The girl was crazy about him, even if she refused to admit that fact to herself. She’d just fallen for him when his hormones were going stupid and his brain was struggling to keep up with the growth of his body. She had the patience of a saint, but even that would only last so long.

“Ayda?” I glanced up and saw Kenny slipping in through the door, his hands pushed into his back pocket as his glance moved between Tate and me. “Tate.”

“Brows,” Tate mumbled, his hands clasping and hanging together between his legs.

Tate really wanted to talk now, and I knew when it was my cue to leave. With my hands on my knees, I pushed up and gave Kenny a smile of thanks.

“Don’t forget to do your homework,” I said over my shoulder and pushed out of the building, blinking in the bright February sun.

When the black dots in my vision were blinked into submission, the yard rolled out ahead of me, and at the other end, leaning against the porch rail of The Hut, I spotted Drew. Picking up my pace, I skipped to a stop in front of him, my forehead landing on his shoulder with a painless thud.

“The rest of this school year is gonna suck,” I said, dragging out the last syllable.

“What’s happened?” he asked, throwing an arm around me and pulling me closer to rest his chin on my head.

“It’s begun. Jacob Hove has been announced as the new coach, and they think it’s only going to be a week or two before he’s full-time.” I leaned closer, leaching warmth from Drew’s body, wrapping my arms around his waist. “To make matters worse, everyone has their hero worship on for the return of the prodigal son.”

“And I bet Jacob loves that,” he blew out quietly. “Tate taking it badly? Stupid question considering the direction you’ve just come from and the look on Libby’s face. Wait… She is called Libby, right? Or is it Lucy?”

“It’s Libby,” I huffed out and rolled my eyes before rocking back so I could look up at him. “Tate’s going to be okay. It’s just the worst-case scenario for him. I think he was hoping he had a while to get used to the idea before Jacob became coach. I agree, this isn’t ideal, but as long as Jacob is fair, there’s nothing that can be done. I swear, Drew, he better not fuck with Tate. I’ll…” I trailed off. There was no way to finish that sentence without making myself feel worse. “I hate him.”

“Careful, darlin’. Some people aren’t worth the hate. He’s one of them.” Drew squeezed me tighter with one hand, brushing my cheek with his other. “I can’t promise you anything other than we’ll do our best to make sure Tate gets through this. And if Jacob pushes too hard, I’ll drag up the old me, set him free, and smash some kneecaps.” He leaned closer to whisper, “I’m totally, totally okay with that.” Drew grinned.

“You’re right, hate is too passionate a word.” I slid my arms up from his waist and over his shoulders with a small sigh. “Kneecaps might work. He’d suck as a coach if he couldn’t walk.”

“Just say the word and your wish is this outlaw’s command.”

“I can think of something better to use all that energy on right now.” I pushed back and tipped my head to the side as I studied him. “I don’t want to waste another thought on Jacob Hove today, so how about you take me for a ride? It feels like it’s been forever since we did that.”

“Now, that I can do. Where do you want to go? Or shall we just see where the cold ass wind takes us?”

I rocked back on my heels and gripped my hands, continuing back until the tension in our arms was the only thing keeping me vertical. I grinned at Drew again, loving the way he watched me. “Surprise me.”

The ride had been just what I’d needed. Being out on the road was like a reset button that nulled the bullshit Jacob seemed to be leaving all over the place for us to step in. The importance of him dropped a little and life started to go on again.

The first couple of days with Jacob being in the school were the worst for Tate. He kept expecting Jacob to do or say something to throw him off or instigate a confrontation, but that never came. According to Tate, Jacob just went about his business and treated him like anyone else on the team. I didn’t expect that to last, and I made an assumption that Jacob was on some kind of temporary probation period at the school, which would account for his behavior toward Tate and the fairness of it all.

I really hoped that I was wrong and that he wasn’t going to take our differences out on Tate or his football career, but I wasn’t going to be complacent either, especially when outside of the school his behavior was far from fair. The Hounds spent time in town now we were trying to be more community spirited. The patch didn’t invoke fear as it once had, and that aspect of club life was fading for Babylonians with every passing day, so the guys would go into the hardware store instead of traveling to the chain stores that lay beyond the city limits. We were spending money in town, and the relationship was a symbiotic one.

That peace had made life in Babylon much easier, but the longer Jacob was in town, the more he became a thorn in our sides. His poison wasn’t blatant from what I understood. Just words here and there about how violently he’d been welcomed back by the MC, or subtle jabs to instigate confrontations when he saw someone wearing a cut in town. He was like craw stuck in our feet, and if we reacted badly that would only make what he was saying real. As slippery as an eel and sly as a fox in a hen house, Jacob took his time planting the seed while acting as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

The only person who could do anything about the negative swing against the club with any real sway was Sutton, and he did everything he could to counter the negative press and remind the people how much of a part of the community we’d become.

I tried to spend more time in town, too. I was considered a member of The Hounds by the people I’d grown up around, and Sutton seemed to think that was a good thing. I was happy to do the positive publicity most days, but I hated when I went alone and I got that creepy feeling that someone was following me. The insidious finger down my spine wasn’t there all the time, but I would feel it enough to stop and look behind me or check store windows to see if someone was even walking in the same direction.

That feeling always became worse when I was working at Rusty’s. In the diner, it felt like eyes were boring into my back and burning spots into me, but there was never a sign that there was anyone around. I honestly thought I was going insane until the first real sign that I was being watched showed itself. I was cleaning off one of the tables that looked out over the highway, and I almost missed the untidy scrawl that said Be Careful! on a napkin. I stared at the words for a moment, my eyes barely catching the ass end of Jacob’s truck as I caught the Dually passing the diner.

I should have known the threat was from him. With a scowl, I scrunched the paper towel into a ball and dropped it into the chili bowl with a satisfied nod. I hadn’t even realized he’d been in the diner. Rusty had temporarily banned him after the altercation with Drew and me. Just another one of those subtle let’s not make a big deal out of the fact that I love you Rustyisms.

The day that Jacob officially took the job of coach and waved off his predecessor wasn’t a good one for Tate. Jacob didn’t wave his position or dominance in his face. He didn’t even look him in the eye, but there was a hint of something between the two of them that Tate felt. He had to be talked down by Sloane so he wouldn’t do something stupid like walk off the team. There was no provocation, so it wasn’t even as though Drew or I could step in and help.

Drew was amazing with the whole mess. He distracted Tate and calmed him down while he fulfilled his promise and started to train me in my quest to be good with a gun, and my fists now he’d started down that road, too. I won’t lie, we didn’t get as much done as we could have. If it were just the two of us in the gym, we’d end up half-naked and sweaty for a whole different reason—not that I ever complained. I would challenge anyone to roll around on the mats with Drew and steer the training away from becoming sexual. He was naturally feral and there was something inherently sexy about that, but if I actually wanted to get to hold a gun and use it, I would have to rein myself in and dampen my out of control libido. Then again, there were some days I think that was his end game.

Unfortunately for him, those distractions didn’t last forever.