Agony crushed me in its grip with sharp, piercing talons. I cracked inside until hot blood rushed through my system, then ebbed into a cold, dismal emptiness.
Moments ticked by to the sound of the truck engine, humming, idling. I took a series of shuddering breaths as agony punched me in the gut over and over again.
Dammit, why?The pain spread, saturating my system to the point where it couldn't feel anything more. I righted myself, my lungs taking in deep, breathable air.
I caught my gaze in the rearview mirror. Puffy, red-rimmed eyes stared back—silently screaming, like they belonged to someone else.
In the distance, the sun lost its battle with the night, dipping below the horizon. I wiped at something wet on my cheek, put my truck in gear and drove away.
I’m sorry, Ella.
Chapter Twelve
MADDOX
Two Months Ago
College National Semifinal: Strikers vs Brigadiers
Cold and rain battled for supremacy in the Minnesota stadium. The turf field was the only one unimpressed, and unaffected, by the conflict.
"Why couldn't we play in the Florida Bowl or any of the ones with 'sunshine' in the name?" Danny brought his knees up to his waist one at a time and twisted. We stood on the sideline, waiting to get back on the field. "I'd take gators, sharks, cyclones, anything tropical and hazardous over this."
"We need to stop 'em here," Sato's deep voice separated from the noise.
I nodded. "Get a few seconds on the clock before the two-minute timeout."
"Could be good position too."
The Brigadiers' quarterback completed a pass to histight end, who barreled through our defensive line and onto our side of the field.
"No."
"Dammit, no, come on…"
I shook my head. "It's short." Had to be. We needed a break.Come on…
A cheer rose from the Minnesota crowd, as the measuring chains gave me their own version of a middle finger. "Fuck!" I stomped my cleat into the sopping turf. The squish and slap was less than satisfying. "Come on, Strikers!" I bellowed at my teammates.
The clock continued to tick down…
Jamison glanced my direction as he found his stance.
"Hewould be in his element," Mackey, the right tackle, sneered. He glared at me, chin jutted out.
Fuck you too, asshole.
"Shut up, jackass," Seager growled. "Or I'll do the honors and finally shut your ass up."
I shook my head at the kid and gave him a look that hopefully said,Don't start.
"When you and Lindsom can actually block your fucking assignments, send us a postcard. But there's enough stone-cold stupid in this stadium—in this whole God-damned state—without your dumb asses adding to it."
I need to work on my glare.
Mackey seethed, but Seager had already proven he didn't give a fuck. He was one, constant dare that he'd take on anyone who was willing to risk their spot on the team. Which was also the biggest reason the guy with a cannon for an arm was still playing backup.
"Man, Beaux, we're on the same team. Can't you be nice?" Danny practically whined.
