“The Detroit Reapers,” I say simply.
“And they know you do drugs?” he asks coldly.
“They know that I was drugged, raped, beaten, and left for dead. They know that I was fired for being assaulted at my workplace after my sexist, victim-shaming, piece of shit boss decided to take the side of whoever it is that hurt me,” I say with venom in my tone. “Where is my stuff?”
“In the closet by the showers,” he says. “For the record, the only reason I didn’t throw it away was that the police told me I couldn’t.”
“For the record, the only reason I haven’t sued you and everyone else responsible for firing me yet is because they are still investigating my rape and attempted murder,” I say. “It’s funny; the first time in six months that the cameras weren’t working just so happened to be the same day that I almost died. Hope they advised you to get a lawyer, too.”
“I was already cleared, and you know that, Arianna,” he says, frowning. “Now, I know you are upset you lost your job, but…”
“You think I wanted to come back here?” I ask. “Are you that fucking stupid? Fired or not, I never would have returned to the place I almost died. I am upset because you are a soulless piece of shit. No fucking wonder your kids don’t talk to you anymore.”
“As bitchy as always,” Conrad says from behind me. “Some things never change.”
“Good to see you, Arianna,” Coach Sutter says. “Glad you are doing better.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I mutter. I turn around and come face-to-face with Conrad and Ethan. For just a moment, I can see that familiar evil look in their eyes.
“No hug for us?”
“I didn’t like you six months ago, and I still don’t now,” I say simply. “Move.”
“Always so sassy.” Ethan grins.
“Yeah, well, apparently not even getting my head bashed in will get rid of my attitude,” I say. I am quickly losing my courage as they stare at me, still looking for any sign that I know it was them. “Tate, can you help me with the boxes?”
“I sure can,” he says happily. “Beck, come help us.”
“Leaving already?” Logan asks.
“Yeah. I have to be at the game tonight to meet the guys,” I say. Conrad and Ethan step out of the way, and I manage to slip by without coming near them and go to the closet. All of the boxes have my name on them, and they are surprisingly organized. “Who boxed all of this up?”
“I believe Conrad and Ethan did,” Tate says, picking up two boxes at once. I freeze for a second, hearing that they handled my stuff. I am going to have to go through everything now, because there is no telling what they did to it, knowing I survived.
The guys all grab my boxes, and I am left with just my laptop bag. A wave of dizziness hits me, and I stop and put my hand on Tate’s arm. I close my eyes and try to relax for a moment, so maybe it will pass. “You okay?” he asks. “Ari?”
“I’m okay. Just dizzy,” I say.
“How often does that happen?” Logan asks.
“I’ve just been doing a lot today,” I lie. My anxiety feeds the symptoms of my brain damage. “When I leave here, I’ll go grab a bite to eat and chill.”
“Are you cleared to drive?” Jaxon asks.
“I am.” I laugh.
When we get out to my car, they load everything into the trunk before hugging me. “You'd better keep in contact,” Tate says.
“I will. We have a game against each other in a few weeks, so I’ll see you then,” I say.
“Those guys better treat you well, or I’ll kick their asses.”
“Ray said they’re hesitant but harmless. Not that it means much, considering I was…” I start to say, but stop.
“Was… Are you going to continue that?” Tate asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
“You remember,” Jaxon says.
