Maverick

BEER IN HAND, I STOOD in the yard of the Delta Pi house watching. Learning. Storing away my teammates quirks and traits. 

It had been a long week. After the meeting on Tuesday with Coach Baxter and his training staff, we were all issued with a conditioning program by none other than our team captain and narcissistic asshat, Zac Lowell. Just doing his bit for his team.

What a fucking joke.

He played his part well though. Morphing into someone else around Coach. It was a total cringe fest watching him kiss his ass as we all sat there. Awaiting our fate. We couldn’t officially start training with Coach and the training staff until the end of the month, but Zac’s proposed program put us in the gym three times a week and then we had conditioning drills twice a week. Of course, no one argued. SU was a Division 1 school. Its athletic department competed against some of best teams in the country, and that came at a heavy price.

You didn’t get to be the best without sacrifice and I was used to intense training programs in high school. But this was going to be on a whole other level. And with Zac running the show, one slip up could cost you. So all week, I’d kept my head down, worked hard in class and pushed myself hard in our training sessions. And Zac had eased off. But I hadn’t forgotten my outstanding punishment, and unlike Kawinski—who had been running his mouth off to some of the other guys about how we’d escaped the wrath of our captain—I wasn’t stupid enough to think Zac had forgotten.

“Come on, Maverick, you’re killing me here,” Darnell shoulder checked me, and my head snapped up to meet his. He shook his head at the frown painted on my face. “I’m just saying, if we’re expected to keep attending these things, shouldn’t we at least try to have fun?”

“This is not my idea of fun.” Not in the least.

“Jesus, you need to get laid.”

“Really?” I said incredulously. “You want to go there?”

“Shit, sorry, that was a shitty thing to say. I know it’s tough with Lo there and you here. But life has to go on, man. It’s not healthy to be so all up in each other.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I said running a hand down my face.

Fuck, sometimes I didn’t understand. Understand how she’d buried herself so deep. How one day, Lo became the center of my universe. But she was. And I didn’t want to change a damn thing about it.

I needed her.

We needed each other.

I just wished the situation was easier.

On both of us.

“Try me,” Darnell said.

“Maybe another time.” I shut the conversation down. I didn’t want to talk about Lo when she wasn’t here. Talking about her only made me miss her more, and I was about one conversation about her away from getting in my Audi and driving back to Wicked Bay.

“At least Kawinski’s having fun.” I tilted my bottle toward the group over by the hot tub. One of the senior players had a beer bong funnel over Kawinski who was chugging down whatever concoction they’d created for him to drink.

“It’s like he wants to end up passed out in a pile of his own piss.” Darnell frowned. “Someone needs to stop them.”

“Are you going to?” I challenged.

“You’re right,” he grumbled. “This isn’t fun.”

“What’s happening?” Jamie and Jonas appeared with more beers, but I declined. I didn’t intend on dropping my guard even for a second. Zac hadn’t paid me any attention since I arrived, but the guy was Jekyll and Hyde. I didn’t want to poke the beast.

“Kawinski is heading down a one-way street to pissville.” Darnell deadpanned causing Jonas to spray his mouthful of beer into the air.

“Shit, D, say it how it is.”

Darnell shrugged. “It’s not going to end well. It’s like he’s totally forgotten what happened in the test.”

Not possible.

His new nickname amongst Zac and the senior players was Pissinski. You didn’t just wake up and forget that. I knew guys like Kawinski. They wanted to fit in, to be one of the popular crowd. Even if he had to suffer repeated humiliation to get there. Some people would rather get shit all over if it meant in the end they got to hang at the cool table. 

Not me.

Back in high school, I’d been head of the cool table. But I didn’t abuse my position, and I never treated people the way Zac Lowell did. Sure, I didn’t spread the warm and fuzzies either, but that’s because I didn’t ask to be put on a pedestal by my peers. I just wanted to survive classes and play basketball. The rest was inconsequential.

As I watched Kawinski lap up the attention, grinning like a fool as the senior players high-fived him, unaware they were laughing behind his back, I rubbed my jaw. Maybe we weren’t that different, after all. We both wanted to play basketball. To survive Zac’s initiation.

We just had very different ways of going about it.

~

AT SOME POINT DURING the night, we moved into the kitchen. Some of the guys were playing beer pong on the island in the middle of the house’s huge kitchen. It still wasn’t my idea of fun, but it beat watching Zac and his guys humiliate Kawinski. 

I checked my cell phone, fighting a smile when I saw her name. Lo was at a party with Kyle and Laurie but she’d texted me.

Lo: Is it wrong I think Kiera is my new favourite? 

I leaned against the counter and texted back.

Me: I wish you were here

I glanced up. Jamie and Jonas were playing now. Darnell and a couple of guys laughing from the sidelines. His eyes slid to mine, and he tipped his head. You okay? 

I nodded back. Yeah. 

I had a serious case of blue balls and a permanent ache in my chest, but I was okay. 

When Zac and the others burst through the back door though, and he declared, “Let’s move this to the basement,” my senses went on high alert. I’d known the party was a front. An excuse to get us all in one place. Which only spelled one thing.

Trouble.

~

THE BASEMENT WAS CRAMMED, guys and girls lining the walls, their attention focused on the center of the room where Zac stood like a smug fucking King ready to deliver a royal decree on his loyal subjects.

“This doesn’t look good,” Darnell said in a low voice as we found a space on the edge of the gathered crowd. He folded his arms over his chest and I had to smirk at our similarities because when I looked down, I’d done the same without even realizing.

“Welcome, friends. Players. Ladies.” Zac smirked, throwing serious fuck-me-eyes toward a petite blonde over by the wall. “Tonight, we have something special lined up.”

“Vinnie, Balor, bring him in.”

Everyone craned their heads to see what Zac was talking about, but I knew. The pieces had slowly been falling into place all night. Them taking Kawinski under their wing. The passive-aggressive drinking games. It was all leading to this.

“Ah, there he is. Pissinski, get over here.” Fat chance of that, the guy could barely stand, his limp body wedged between Vinnie and Balor. They shoved him forward, and he went down onto his knees like a ragdoll.

“Shit man, wha was int that be-heer.”

A low rumble of snickers filled the room.

“Jesus.” Darnell rubbed his jaw. “He’s wasted.”

Zac and Mac hoisted Kawinski to his feet. “For those of you who don’t know, our good friend Sam Kawinski had himself a little accident in class, isn’t that right, buddy?”

Kawinski’s head sagged off his shoulders as he tried to reply, drool trickling out of the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” Zac leaned in. “You think it might happen again? Someone get the guy a diaper, quick.”

Someone handed Zac a full-grown diaper and between the two of them they managed to wrestle Kawinski out of his cargo shorts and into the giant white pants. “Much better. Now, what do we do with toddlers when they’ve been naughty?”

“Put them on time out,” someone yelled.

“Take away their toys,” another called.

“All valid options,” Zac mused. “But in Delta Pi we like to do things a little differently.” He leaned behind him, taking something from someone. When my eyes landed on the gloves, my spine straightened.

“Fuck,” Darnell breathed out.

We both watched as Zac and Balor fitted the gloves onto Kawinski’s hands.

“This is twisted. They’re not going to let him fight like that.” Darnell stepped forward, but I stuck my arm out in front of him.

“In this house, my house,” Zac’s voice reverberated around the basement. “When you screw up, you have to own that shit. You have to be prepared to take your punishment like a man.”

“Vinnie, if you will.” He motioned for the six-foot-four giant to come into the circle. “This, friends, is what we like to call Last Man Standing. Five minutes on the clock, no holds barred, last man standing wins.”

The crowd grew hungry. Cheering. Chanting. It rippled in the air fueling the moment, giving it credence. And someone had to put an end to it. Kawinski wouldn’t last two seconds against Vinnie. But something told me Zac already knew that. In fact, he probably banked on it. This wasn’t about beating the shit out of a half-cut guy, it was about luring me into the game.

The second I stepped forward, Darnell hissed, “What the fuck, Maverick?” But it was too late. I wasn’t about to watch an innocent guy—my teammate—take my punishment. Because that’s what this was. The humiliation and giant diaper, that was all for Kawinski. But Last Man Standing was all for me.

“Stop,” I shouted, bursting through the crudely formed circle.

“Prince, how nice of you to join us.” The glint in Zac’s eye, the smug satisfaction plastered on his face, told me all I needed to know.

“This is wrong,” I said. “Kawinski is done.”

“He is? But isn’t that for me to decide?”

My eyes narrowed as my muscles tensed and I spread my feet slightly, moving into a defensive stance. Vinnie was to my side, Balor and Mac hovering around Zac. I could probably take three of them. Any more and the odds wouldn’t be in my favor.

I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But I couldn’t stand by either. I was better than that. Better than Zac and this twisted game.

“I’ll take his place.”

The room fell silent, anticipation crackling in the air, and a couple people sucked in sharp breaths.

One beat passed. And another. While everyone waited to see how things would play out. And then the King spoke. “That’s honorable of you, Prince, real honorable. But that’s not in the rules. Your punishment will come. All in good time.” He grinned, shoving Kawinski at me. I caught him before he went down again. The guy was out of it; his eyes rolled into his head, the bitter smell of whiskey leaking from him.

Darnell and Jamie appeared at my side and helped me with him. I flicked my head to the back of the room, but Darnell didn’t budge. He looked me dead in the eye asking me a silent question. But I mouthed, “go,” and reluctantly, he helped Jamie carry Kawinski away.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Prince.” Zac closed the distance between us but stayed out of arm’s reach. Why wasn’t he biting? I was certain this was what he wanted. Me in Kawinski’s place, fighting Vinnie.

And then it hit me.

He didn’t want me to fight.

Fuck.

I’d played right into his hands. But Zac had underestimated one thing. There had been a time when I’d thrived on the feel of a stranger’s knuckles crushing into my face, my chest, my ribs. The soft tissue around my kidneys.

I’d lived for the flash of pain. The deep burn and teeth-rattling agony.

Five-minutes on the clock. That’s what he’d said. Vinnie had a similar build to me. Five-minutes. I didn’t doubt in that time, he could do some serious damage. But I knew how to protect myself. I was quick on my feet and my pain threshold was higher than most.

“I won’t fight back,” the words poured out before I could talk myself out of it.

Zac’s brows hit his hairline. “Say that again.”

“You wanted Kawinski to take a beating, right? Well I said I’d take his place and I will. Five-minutes on the clock.” I didn’t wait for a reply, turning to face Vinnie. His eyes blazed fire and thirst. I’d seen the same look enough times right before I went fist-to-fist with my opponent.

But he didn’t pounce. Instead, he looked right past me, waiting for permission.

“What the Prince wants, the Prince gets. Five-minutes. Vinnie, do your worst.”

With a twisted smirk, Vinnie stalked toward me. Light on his feet, I tried to mirror his stance. Predicting his movements. Everything in me roared to attack, to jab my fists high and wide, but I kept my hands close to my chin, adopting a defensive stance.

“Keep your hands up.” I barely heard the words, but he had said them. There was something behind his wild stare and I inclined my head trying to decipher his meaning. Because if I had heard right, something didn’t add up. No way his words married up to his blood-thirsty expression.

With a small nod of his head, he lunged, clipping the side of my cheek. My head snapped to the side, pain exploding up my face and into my skull, and I started a mental countdown in my head.

Four-minutes and fifty-five seconds.

I only had to survive another four-minute and fifty-five seconds.