It’s game day.
I can feel it in my blood even though I won’t be touching the field.
There’s excitement and energy and magic.
Scout’s beside me chattering away about who she needs to stretch first, and how she’s concerned about Dungey’s elbow.
“Everything good, Easy E?”
“Manny-Man.” I turn to find the one face I’ve seen more times in my career other than my father’s and grab the old fucker and give him a hug.
“You’re still pretty.” He smirks.
“And you’re still ugly,” I reply with a lift of my eyebrows.
And just like that, the little bit of nerves I had walking through these tunnels tonight vanish.
“Someone has to be.” He steps back and looks at me. “I’m proud of you for giving it another shot tonight. I’m sure they have those teleprompters in perfect working condition.” He glances over to Scout and smiles with a nod before looking back to me.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, hating that I’m lying to Manny of all people—the one guy who probably wouldn’t judge me—but it’s not the time or place to explain.
“I’ve been assured they are.” I hold up my folder full of notes. “And if they aren’t, I asked for cheat sheets ahead of time so I’d know what to say.”
“I always knew you were smart.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I laugh. “You sticking around to watch the game?”
He eyes me for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”
“Really? Which greats are you hoping to watch tonight?”
“You.”
I stare at him for a beat, too many emotions whirling around after all the shit last night. I don’t trust my voice to respond so I just nod.
Scout steps up and gives him a hug. He’s startled by it, but when she says something in his ear, his smile widens and he laughs as she steps back.
“See you after the game, Manny-Man.”
“Not if I see you first,” he calls as we walk down the hall toward the locker room.
“You don’t have to walk me in,” Scout says as she turns to me. I know she’s nervous that I’ll see Santiago.
“Bullshit. He doesn’t exist to me, Scout.”
We enter the locker room and they’re all there shooting the shit and relaxing so they can get in the zone. The calm before the storm. I fist-bump some of the guys, wish them luck, and razz them a bit as Scout heads to her office.
And I might have even slipped a couple of packs of trick bubble gum into Drew’s stash.
I miss this.
And the longer I stand here the harder it is to know I may never have this again.
Too much fucking shit all at once.
“Hey,” I say to Scout from the doorway of her office. “I’m going to head up.”
Her smile is wide as her eyes flick over my shoulder to where I’m sure all the nosy fuckers are watching us to see if they should make kissing noises like eight-year-olds before landing back on me.
“Have a game, Wylder.” Her smile says everything her kiss would have.
“You too, Kitty.”
When I turn he’s right there. Standing in front of me. No smirk. No arrogance. Just him. A dozen pairs of eyes wait for a confrontation. They have no fucking clue how much has changed.
Walk away, Wylder.
They know he fucked me over, but they have no idea how bad.
You’ve got a game to broadcast.
I stare at the fucker, standing in my locker room with my uniform on.
Don’t let him get any more of you than he already has.
He deserves what’s coming to him. Every. Fucking. Thing.
Walk. Away.
And I do. I take two steps.
That’s all I manage.
Fuck ignoring him.
Fuck. Him.
I do everything I told myself I wouldn’t. My fist is cocked back and then flying forward before I even have a chance to think.
I hear Scout yelp. I hear one of the guys say let them have it out.
“You fucking asshole,” I grit, hand still fisted as he stumbles against the wall behind him. “You got exactly what you wanted, didn’t you? My job? My city? My fucking everything. What did I ever do to you? Not a goddamn thing. If you want to be pissed at the world, fuck up someone’s life, then do it to his. He’s the reason this all happened, not me.”
Santiago stares at me with a look so very different than I’ve seen before. His hands are fisted and his smile taunts me. “Why should you get it all?”
My blood roars in my head and blocks out all reason. There is a room full of guys listening to us right now. Assuming. Concluding.
And I don’t fucking care.
My fist flies again and glances off his cheek. His laugh fills my ears and ignites a rage I’ve never felt before.
“You’re a spineless piece of shit,” I shout.
“Like I care what you think of me.”
“You should, you fucker.” My hands are fisted in his shirt and I slam him back against the wall. “What? Not going to fight back now?”
I twist my hands tighter into his shirt and slam him again. The guys close in around us. My hands itch to punch him one more time. My fury crashes around inside of me.
“No need to. I got what I wanted.”
“Yeah. You did. Our daddy sure as shit noticed you. First by taking me out and fucking up my shoulder. Such a dickhead move. And then by the bullshit you pulled when you came here.” I lean in closer. “I shouldn’t expect any less from a bastard though, should I?”
“You motherfucker,” he grits out as he throws a fist.
It barely hits me because the guys are on him, holding him back before he can get enough behind it to do some damage.
I stare at him, hands trembling and body tensing as every part of me begs to punch him again. Asshole.
“You’re not worth it.”
He’s not.
I’ve gotta get out of here.
I glance to Scout on the way out but don’t stop.
The guys nod as I walk past them. Looking more than shocked.
The secret is out in the open.
Can’t say that I fucking care in the least.