My eyebrows dip into a V. “He’s not that skinny.”
“Compared to Shango he is.”
I can’t help a soft snicker. Jed comparing Tyrell to the Yoruba deity of strength, lightning, and thunder is… well, from a physical point of view, it’s completely appropriate.
Atlas always used to joke that Tyrell Jackson was like a Black Jack Reacher.
He was Atlas’s bodyguard. His wingman… his protector.
When he first introduced me to the shy fourteen-year-old, he called him Black Jack. Even then Tyrell was taller than everybody else in the class. He was strong and powerful, yet quiet and calm.
There was a shy sweetness to him that countered Atlas’s sometimes reckless side.
They were the perfect pair, always laughing and joking together.
Atlas took the lead, and Black Jack would be right behind him, following in his wake, scanning for dangers on all sides.
Looking up from the bar, I dart my eyes across the room, seeking him out, but I can’t see him anywhere.
He must have left already, quietly slipped out the door when I wasn’t looking.
I wonder where he is right now.
I wonder where he lives.
I wonder if he’s happy, the way I so desperately want to be.
CHAPTER 4
TYRELL
Football Frat is quiet when I get back.
I don’t know where Grady and Blake went off to, but I was half expecting to see Wily’s truck in the driveway. It wasn’t.
I’m all alone.
And that’s kind of the way I want it, even though the house is unnervingly quiet as I climb the stairs to my room.
I can’t believe I only have a couple of months left in this place. Feels weird to know I’ll be moving out soon. It’s been a good home for the last two years. It’s kept me sane on those days I wanted to lose it.
I love my brothers at Football Frat. I would have quit without them, and the idea that we’ll all be going our separate ways soon is… It’s weird.
Who knows where we’ll all end up. I mean, Grady and Carson are sticking around, but Zander and Wily? I guess we’ll find out after the draft at the end of this month. Man, they are both so tense over that one. Zander’s confident he’ll get picked up by someone, so his tension is laced with excitement. But he has no idea who’ll sign him, and this of course affects Sienna and Zoey. They’ll be shifting to be with him, and upcoming change can be disconcerting.
Satch, on the other hand, who knows what she’ll do. We still don’t know if a team will take Wily on with his injury, so his tension has a negative edge to it… and we’re all feeling it.
At this stage, my plan is to move to Dallas, spend my summer there, try to find myself a job, then figure out my next steps.
As much as I’ve enjoyed playing college ball, after Atlas died, I lost the dream of going pro. I don’t even know why, but the idea of playing for the NFL, all the attention and the pro life… I just couldn’t do it anymore. It’s been hard enough getting through the last two seasons. I avoid interviews as much as I can. I even dropped my agent last year, finally convinced him that I wouldn’t be changing my mind.
I’ll have my degree in civil engineering, and I’ll find a job somewhere, start at the bottom and work my way up. Dad’s got a connection, and I keep promising him I’ll look into it, try to set up an initial meeting, but…
My insides deflate, the idea hardly inspiring.
Trudging up the last few steps, I head down the hallway and slip into my room.
I don’t even bother turning on the light. I haven’t changed up the furniture once in the time I’ve been here, and my body knows the exact path to walk.
