I attacked the nearest opposite player like my life fucking depended on it.
Theo Westmoor. He needed a good hit anyway. I hit him hard. He dropped and blood splattered everywhere. His face split open.
The crowd gasped. The refs blew their whistles.
I didn’t stop. I needed her fucking attention. If she was leaving, I needed to get out of the game.
Theo hit me back hard. So fucking hard.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” I snarled, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Security dragged me off. Into the tunnel. Into the locker room.
Perfect.
I tore off my gear. Ignored Coach’s yelling through the door. I got dressed and walked outside.
And saw him.
Damien Lopez.
The man who killed my stepdad. The man who framed an innocent woman. The man who’s been abusing Tigerlily for years.
He’s dragging Tigerlily through the parking lot.
Every instinct in me flared.
I didn’t feel like the fourteen-year-old me anymore. Now I knew my power. I knew my hit could fucking cause pain. It took everything in me not to beat this man.
I inhaled, feeling myself tremble.
This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t how I wanted this to go.
I didn’t want to be face to face with the fucking murderer. He stole the one thing in my life that I loved.
But I couldn’t stand there and do nothing again.
Not when he’s treating Tigerlily this way.
And it was painfully clear to me that she was also a victim of this fucking asshole.
Then I watched him hit her, and it took everything in me to not kill him on the spot.
So I stepped in politely, not wanting to scare Tigerlily. I needed to be on her good side if I wanted to understand why she did what she did.
Today
I watch Callum move above her. Watch her gasp his name. Watch her come undone.
Zephyr gives me a knowing look and leans close as we watch. He whispers, “Are you ever going to tell her?”
I watch her. Flushed. Beautiful. Moaning on the edge of another orgasm.
My dick twitches in my pants.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Jax—”
