“I assume you didn’t sleep alone?” Onyx asked me with a smirk.
“You would assume right.”
“The girl’s connected?” My dad asked.
“Only just found out who she was. I don’t remember much about her either.”
“Have you asked her?” Dad looked frustrated.
“Not directly.”
“Playing with your food, little brother?” Onyx took a sip of his whisky as he watched me.
“A little,” I admitted.
“Women aren’t playthings,” Dad grumbled as he sat in his chair. He missed the look between my brother and me, which begged to differ with Dad’s view. “I’ll call Bowers. This is bullshit.”
“I can handle this, Dad,” I told him quietly.
“You’ve been training to get to the draft since you were three. This isn’t just an obsession, Jett, it’s your passion. One that I am happy to support, and I will not allow some girl and a bottle of fucking water to jeopardize that.”
“I’m not sure she’s connected,” I told him. What the fuck?
“I suggest you find out,” Onyx said dryly. “Pussy’s pussy. There’s always another tight one to fill.”
“Onyx,” our dad protested weakly. “We raised you better than that.”
Onyx winked at me as he took another drink of his whisky, and I schooled my expression so Dad didn’t see my answering grin.
“Jett,” my dad said, giving me his full attention. “Find out who did this, do whatever you think is best to deal with it, but Iwillspeak to Bowers and get this bullshit benching lifted. I will make sure that there is no record of this anywhere.”
“Careful, Dad.” Onyx leaned back in his seat as he appraised our father. “Sounds like you’re willing to step in and alter school records.”
Dad leveled him with a hard stare. “When it is merited, I will protect my son’s future,” he told him angrily. “Anyof my sons. Even when it isn’t merited, I would do what is necessary.”
Onyx dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment of his past fuckup, which Dad fixed then, too.
“Jett?” Dad asked me.
“Yeah, thank you, I need to play.” I looked between the two of them. “It’s all I want.” Being this open and vulnerable wasn’t something that came easily, and I saw them both acknowledge my honesty. “I will find out who did this though,” I promised them, and I saw the gleam in my older brother’s eyes as he saluted me with his drink.
“Santo!” Coach called, and I went into his office, closing the door behind me. “Your father called me in the middle of my Sunday barbeque.”
“He wasn’t happy with my benching,” I told him as I sat down.
Coach Bowers considered me for a long moment. “Coaching is hard,” he began, and I kept my opinion about his large salary to myself. “There are eighty-five men on my roster. Do you know the most important thing a coach can have from his team?”
“Respect.”
“Exactly.Honestyand respect.” He sat back and looked at me. “You ran to your daddy because you didn’t like my coaching method?”
I smiled. “I went home to my father, who requested my presence because he didn’t understand why I wasn’t playing on Saturday. You see, mydaddyhas my respect too. I told him exactly what I told you. The difference is,Coach, he believed me.”
Coach Bowers glared at me. I didn’t flinch from the stare. “You’re out for Saturday.”
Bastard.“And the week after?”
“I told the team you were out for two weeks with an injury. After Saturday, your two weeks are up.”
