Jeremy held my professor with his arm around his neck in a chokehold.
Jeremy was there and I was safe.
“Let go of me, you stupid—"the professor gritted.
“Shut the fuck up before I rip your fucking head off,” Jeremy menacingly threatened, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he’d do it.
“Fuck you.” Professor Gage spittled, his lips growing blue, face paling. It occurred to me Jeremy was going to kill him.
“Jeremy!” I found my voice and felt his eyes on me, but I shut my eyes as I tried to catch my breath.
Jeremy was here.
I was safe.
“Kid, you okay?” a scratchy older male voice sounded just as a hand touched my arm. I jumped. I opened my eyes to see a tall older guy I’d noticed before and assumed was part of the baseball team. A coach? A trainer? He had dark green, almost brown eyes and silver dark at his temples.
“I’m fine.” My knees wobbled with relief.
“You sure?” I opened my mouth to respond when the professor cursed.
“Fuck!” Professor Gage groaned, and the older man turned his attention back to Jeremy.
“Goddamn it, Fletcher. Let him go.”
“No,” Jer growled. “He had his hands on her. He was trying to taker her from me.”
“Let him go.”
“What the fuck, Coach?”
“Do it.” The coach said and crossed his arms.
“I don’t know what you think your guys are doing, Coach.” Professor McCreepy coughed as he panted to catch his breath. “But this could be ground for expulsion.”
“Really?” The coach asked, putting his body in front of mine. “And what I just witnessed? What my guys just recorded? Could that be grounds for termination?”
“That a threat?”
“That’s a goddamn promise,” the coach seethed, turning red with anger.
“Still just her word against mine. Shit like that can be doctored up. Pissed-off student asks a couple of her fuck buddies to rough me up after she came on to me?”
“Oh yeah?” The coach glared at him, rolling his neck as pops and cracks sounded into the air. “Fuck it,” Coach cursed, looking at Jeremy, “Get your girl and get out of here,” he ordered, his tone not leaving room to argue, yet Jeremy questioned him.
“What?”
“Trust me, kid. Get your girl and go.”
“But—" It was obvious Jeremy didn’t like the idea of letting the sleazy creep go, but he was obviously torn about coming to comfort me and being the one to do whatever Coach had in mind.
“I got this, Fletch. We got this,” Coach said, his eyes skirting the two other players around us. Each one was big and strong in his own way, all three towering the professor. “Don’t we, Ferguson and Marquez?” The two ball players nodded; the tall dark-haired, tatted-up one cracked his knuckles.
“Get an extra shot in for me,” Jeremy requested.And me,I thought to myself. My body swayed as Jeremy slowly approached me, like he thought I was some kind of skittish animal. The moment he was two, three steps away, something came over me. I rushed into his front, and his arms wrapped around me with anoomph.
“Thank you.” My words were muffled as I pressed closely to his chest. His arms banded around me in a warm, protective clasp.
“I got you,” he promised, and before I knew it, he lifted my shaking body up in his arms, like a groom carried his bride, and with my duffle bag over his shoulder carried me all the way home.
