“Yes. Why?” she answered, confused. Crazy chicks like her were capable of anything, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole ‘bringing the gun back to apologize’ was a setup.
“Nothing,” I said, walking back inside, slamming the door on her face, then poked my head into the games room to show Ez that I had the gun. When he gave me the thumbs up, I pointed to the back of the house. “We’ve got company.”
Ezrah and Cole shot up off their seats. Ezrah grabbed a baseball bat while Cole grabbed a golf club; both were leaning against the wall at arm’s length. “Is the basement locked?” I asked them, and they responded with shrugs and blank looks.
We crept outside onto the front balcony, and were disappointed to see Coach’s daughter was lingering about onthe footpath as if she was undecided where she was waiting for someone. She glanced back at the Lud, and I followed her stare to find Conrad standing on the balcony looking at her. Once they realized that I had noticed, they broke their gaze. If Conrad wanted to cheat on his girlfriend and fuck her, be my guest. In fact, he’d be doing me a favor to get her out of my face. Yet, when I glanced at Conrad again, I had the feeling something else was going on, but I didn’t care enough to ask; besides, we had more important matters to deal with.
Cole jumped off the balcony and casually peered around the corner to a cluster of bushes, then he shot us a look, “In the bush,” he mouthed.
“I’ll run around to the back and blindside them,” Ezrah offered.
“Be careful, bro, I can only see one person, so there might be more lurking,” Cole told him.
“I bet it’s those fucking Yorks,” Ez mumbled, jumping off the balcony and disappearing around the opposite side of the mini castle. Cole kept peering around the side of the building, then he signaled before disappearing. I followed to find the hooded stranger had come out of their hiding place, and Ez had cut them off. Even though their head was covered, it was obvious this was a girl and not who we first suspected.
She backed away from the towering frame of Ez to turn around and slam right into it. “Who do we have here?” Cole said, pulling the hood off the wriggling fish.
“Adina?” Ezrah said in surprise. “You didn’t need to sneak around. You could've just knocked on the door.”
“Put her in the basement,” I told them, “Lock the door, and we’ll deal with her later.”
“No,” she shrilled, struggling against their hold on her, then she tried to kick Ez between the legs, but he managed to move out of the way before her shoe made contact.
After seeing the Boleyn girl getting railed by my brother in the library and now fighting like a wild cat against restraints, honestly, it was making me hard. But I had to focus on practice and had no time to deal with her, and I was already running late.
“Make sure she doesn’t leave,” I asserted, shooting a sharp look at Ez, who might feel sorry for her. Then I paused, got off my bike again, and ran back inside to grab the basement key hanging on a hook by the front door. There was a second key somewhere, but it was misplaced last season.
When I came back, the boys were standing there reluctantly holding her arms, and again she tried to kick me, but missed. “You fucking scum,” she snarled.
“Charming,” I sniggered, “You were snooping. You must be punished.”
I was a little confused by this change in mood, as it was only later on today that she liked my brother enough to get fucked by him, but maybe the shit with her father had messed her up.
“Punished? Piss off,” she growled as I opened the door, directing the boys to guide her down the stairs. “You drugged and kidnapped me, remember? It should be me punishing you.” Her angry voice grew distant as they descended the stairs.
“I haven't forgotten,” I replied, coldly. “I organized it.”
“Warwick scumbag,” she shouted, and I cracked up laughing.
“Hurry up,” I yelled at the boys as I was worried they might sympathize with her. Once they ran back up the stairs, I slammed the door shut behind them and turned the key. Then I popped the key in my pocket, so I was the only one who had access to the basement and to her, the Boleyn girl.
Solid banging at the door serenaded me as I walked back to the Honda and left for practice, riding past Coach’s daughter, who was still wandering around lost as if waiting for someone. I stalled my bike again, frustrated that I was already late andCoach would be pissed, but I messaged Ez:Watch Coach’s daughter. I think she’s up to no good.
I rode away with a smile on my face, looking forward to getting back to the frat house so that I could spend some alone time with the Boleyn girl. As expected, Coach was pissed that I turned up late as the guys were already on the field warming up, and he flicked his finger at me as if to say, “Get out there now.”
James spat, “Slack captain, can’t even turn up on time.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled casually back, unaffected by the Yorks' dumbass comments, but then glanced at Coach to see if he was watching, and he was. Damn.
Even though I hated the Yorks almost as much as I hated the Boleyns, when we were on the field, all disagreements had to be brushed aside for the team, and as captain, I had to set the standards. But I did look forward to arriving back at the frat house to be greeted by the angry girl in the basement.
