I rushed to her, checked for a pulse, just as Orlando burst into the room.
"What the fuck?" he shouted, scrambling for his phone.
I told him no. Said her pulse was strong, she was breathing, but we needed to get her out.
He sprang into action, moved his car around back while I waited with my sister who was slowly coming to.
She went in and out of consciousness a lot.
But my first priority was Noelle. I’d deal with that guy later.
I’d make sure of it.
With Orlando’s help, I got her dressed and into the car. Then I found Ryder and told him what I’d seen.
He lunged for the guy without thinking about the consequences, but I had.
I’d spent the time alone with my sister, thinking about what would happen if I handled it the way I wanted to.
And I realized—I didn’t care.
So, I broke his nose. And his jaw. And my wrist when my third and final punch missed and hit concrete instead of his face.
The guy—some twenty-year-old from Texas named Miles Baker—had his membership terminated. But the Association swept it under the rug.
He was underage. At a party they paid for, to celebrate the league champions. They couldn’t have word get out about it.
We took Noelle to the hospital. They ran blood tests. She had a date rape drug in her system. She agreed to a sexual assault exam, but it came back clean.
But the drug was still there. Which meant Miles intended to.
Maybe he got interrupted. Maybe she started coming to before he could do what he meant to. I don’t know.
Miles tried to press charges against me for assult, but Orlando took care of it—paid him off, said it was easier that way.
It was my word against his. Nobody saw him leave that room, and everyone saw me take matters into my own hands. It wasn’t a battle worth fighting, or one I’d win.
It spread like wildfire that I attacked a fan in a jealous fit of rage.
That I couldn’t handle losing.
That a super-fan from the winning team said the wrong thing, and I snapped.
I let them all believe it.
I would neverevertell anybody what happened to my sister that night.
Even if it meant losing everything I worked so hard to build.
And the fact that it might all come out—that everyone could know—makes me feel sick.
Chapter forty-three
Olive
Therearesomanythings a small-town girl like me could never have imagined herself doing.
Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to play sold-out stadium shows across the country.
