“You boys ready? Cause you’re next!” Bells announces viciously, while holding the duct tape up like a trophy.
“Wat the fuckin’ fuck?” Irish says, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Oh, hell no!” I say. I’ve got firsthand knowledge of how vicious Bell can be. God, I hate him.
Then I see it, and I’m almost sick to my stomach. There’s duct tape around Austin’s dick and balls. And I’m just fucking done.
I’m done playing nice and setting an example. I’m done with the bullying and all of Karl’s bullshit. I’m done with what happened to me and so many other rookies.
“This ends now, motherfucker!” My rage explodes, and I lose the last bit of restraint I have as I launch myself toward Bell.
Something in my tone hits him, because he turns and, for once, he looks a little scared. Then, his face twists into ruthlessness. I’m well aware of that face, because I’ve seen it before when they came after me. Only this time I’m not a scared rookie.
“Oh, look, our pussy capt..”
I don’t let him finish. I clock him right in the jaw with everything I’ve got. He’s head flies to the side, blood spattering. My smile is dark with satisfaction. Fighting isn’t a big part of my game, but I can throw a punch. My dad made sure of that.
The blow stuns him for a moment, and I catch him again when my left fist connects with his stomach. He’s disoriented, probably drunk, so he’s slow. I’m sober and furious. He swings, but he’s at an awkward angle, so it’s slow and lacking force. I’m able to duck far enough down that he misses. I don’t pull my punch when I catch him in the kidney. He goes down and I’m about to go in after him when Irish yells.
“Walker needs help, Cap.”
He’s holding off two guys, and Walker’s struggling with another two. I jump in to help Walks, grabbing one guy by his collar and flinging him away from the fight. I spin around, ready to give Irish some aid, when the music suddenly dies and an ear-splitting whistle pierces the silence. Everyone drops their hands and looks toward the house.
Fuck my life. Damon Hawk stands on the back patio, whistle in his mouth, looking like he’s about to light everyone up. Well, I can kiss my career goodbye, because there is no way I can talk myself out of this mess. I notice several very large, very muscular men dressed all in black, escorting the rookies over to Damon. I open my mouth, but one of them stops to talk with Damon. They speak for a moment before they steer the rookies toward the front of the house. Jesus. Did Damon bring his own private army? Who does that? I’m not sure if I’m impressed or terrified. Maybe both. I mean, we’re probably all going to get fired, but at least the rookies will get the medical attention they need.
“King, Ferguson, Gauthier, and Scott!” Damon shouts in a voice like ice.
I may be incredibly fucked right now, but I’m not a coward. I step forward, and so do my boys. The four of us walk over to meet him as a group, heads high. We’re not sorry. We’d do it again because sometimes you just have to take a stand. Reedsy takes three cell phones out of his pocket and drops them into Damon’s waiting hands. No one says a word. We just stand therein silence, ready to accept whatever consequences come our way. Damon calmly hands the phones over to the guy next to him. Evan. I’ve seen him around the arena off and on, but we’ve never spoken.
“Is that the last of them?” Damon asks us after Evan leaves.
“Yeah, all the ones we could get. I think your guys got the rest.” I tell him, trying to keep my voice even.
“Excellent.” He turns to us, looking us over critically.
“Everyone okay? Any serious injuries?” His voice is less harsh, and he doesn’t look quite as angry anymore.
“I’m good.” I assure him. My boys say the same.
“Good. I want all of you to head home. Get yourselves cleaned up and ice down those knuckles. They’re gonna hurt if you don’t. Liam, we’ll talk about this tomorrow morning. I’ve got it all handled here, but let’s get you out of here before anyone else show up.”
“What?” We’re all still flying on the adrenaline from the fight. It’s a letdown to just walk away. Being dismissed stings, but then again, no one wants to argue with Damon.
“What about the rookies? If they go to the hospital, it’s going to be a PR problem?”
“I’ve got it all under control, Liam. I’ll make sure they’re taken care of without any press involvement.”
“Okay.” I’m out of words and all kinds of confused. The adrenaline is wearing off, and the consequences of the fight are catching up to me. The knuckles of my right hand hurt like a son of a bitch, and my cheek feels like it’s on fire. I need ice and Tylenol. And a hug from Maddie. That would fix everything.
Madison
How is this night even real? An entire team of grown-ass men behaving like children. I can’t seem to stop this rage that’s building after seeing what they did to that poor kid, Austin. What sort of people treat their teammates this way? What the fuck is wrong with these guys? This is beyond messed up.
My heart aches for Austin. Every time I see him at yoga, he always says “hi” with that shy, sweet smile. I can’t imagine how painful it will be to remove that duct tape. I hope they’re able to put him under or something. Just the thought of it makes me cringe.
There was obviously a fistfight. All four of them are a mess. I can’t believe Damon showed up with a goddamn security army. What was that all about? How does a situation even get to this point? I can understand wanting to punch that Bells guy. I want to punch him after glimpsing poor Austin. But I wouldn’t, because I’m a responsible adult, and responsible adults don’t get to act out when feeling a certain kind of way.
I’m fed up with all of it. I won’t live this life at 29 years old. I’ve dated guys like this before, and I won’t do it again. Originally, I thought I’d misjudged Liam, but tonight was a revelation. These guys will never grow up. Some of them are over thirty, and this is their behavior? And Liam’s the captain, which means this is his circus.
