Keeping Score

by Cathryn Fox

  “I heard there was some gambling going on, and you were involved.”

  I take a couple deep breaths, brace my elbows on the arms of the wooden chair and steeple my finger. “Who told you that?”

  “That’s confidential.”

  “If someone is talking about me, I think I have a right to know.”

  He picks up a pen and taps it on his desk. What does he have to be nervous about? I’m the one getting thrown under the bus here.

  “Let’s just say, the information came to me from a very reliable source, and if it’s true, you could be in very big trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  He squirms a bit, and tugs at his collar. Whatever he’s about to say, he’s either uncomfortable doing it, or he’s been put in a situation where he has no choice. What the fuck has Cochrane done?

  “There’s been an investigation at Wolf House. Your name came up repeatedly.”

  I shake my head. Of course it did. Cochrane has pull there, just like he has pull here in the Dean’s office. My guess is Cochrane’s daddy and Dean Blakely go way back. Isn’t that the way it is? The rich protect the rich. Isn’t that why Reagan landed in my arms—to protect her asshole boyfriend.

  “If this is true…”

  “I’m the only one named? No others are being implicated here?”

  He picks up a piece of paper and reads it. “There is another name.” My heart jumps into my throat and cuts off my air. Please don’t say Reagan. Jesus Christ. I can understand Cochrane dragging my name through the mud, but is he that much of a bastard that he’d ruin Reagan’s name too? Ruin her education, her future? “I take it you know Reagan Ellison?”

  Holy fuck. Cochrane is a dead man.

  DEAD.

  My hands shake and I tuck them under my legs as sweat breaks out on my body. What the fuck am I supposed to say, or do? “I know her, yes.”

  “Apparently, she’s involved in some payout scheme. She gave herself to you in lieu of payment of sorts. That’s very unorthodox and could result in a suspension, for her and for you.” His head lifts, his eyes zeroing in on me. I catch the worry there. This man knows he can ruin careers, and I suspect it’s to save his. “If that’s true, I will need to speak to her.”

  As the room spins—my life, Reagan’s future—flashing before my eyes, the lie easily spills from my lips. “She’s not involved in any of this. You don’t have to talk to her.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Jesus fucking Christ. Is this really happening? Did Cochrane really throw us both under the bus? He’s every bit as guilty as I am, yet I’m the one here in the office, about to lose everything I spent years fighting for.

  “If I take full responsibility, will you leave her out of this?” That’s when it hits me. This is what Cochrane wanted all along. The fucker knew I’d take full blame and protect her. I shake my head. Well done, Cochrane. Well-fucking-done. Looks like he won this war after all.

  Dean Blakely nods slowly. “I could take that into consideration.” He leans forward, and links his fingers together. “She comes from a very well connected family. Her father is a donor to the new wing of the library. We probably don’t want to drag her into this scandal.”

  “Yeah.” I get it, I get exactly what everyone with more power than I have is doing.

  “You should probably keep your distance, don’t you think? You know, for her sake.”

  With my words lodged in my throat, I nod, grab the back of my neck, and dig my fingers into my tight muscle. At least Reagan won’t be fucked over because of my fight with Cochrane. I shake my head and glance at the ceiling. I once asked myself what I’d do for love. I guess I now know the answer. Reagan and I, though, we never stood a chance and I guess there is a part of me that always knew it. The Dean’s chair shifts and my gaze flies to his as my anger once again flares.

  “You know I’m not the only one, right?”

  He tugs at his collar again. “The others will be dealt with.”

  I lean forward, not ready to let this go, and maybe there is a part of me that just wants to see him squirm some more. “What others?” Shit, I hope Andrew isn’t in trouble. He’s the only one from Wolf House that I like.

  He shuffles papers on his desk and avoids my direct gaze. “I’m afraid that’s confidential.”

  “What happens to the person who came to you with this information?”

  “That person will have different consequences of course. They are, after all, the person wanting to right the wrongs taking place at Wolf House.”

  A humorless laugh crawls out of my throat. When Reagan said Cochrane had a way of getting what he wanted, she wasn’t wrong. “You know this is fucked up, right?” I ask, unable to contain my temper. He bristles before me, shocked at my blunt language.

  “Rocco, I’d appreciate a little respect.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I grip my hair and tug. “What does Cochrane have on you?”

  His throat makes a sound as he swallows, like he’s surprised, but the truth is written all over his face. “That’s enough, young man.”

  I laugh. “Why? Why can’t I say what I really feel? What else do I have to lose?”

  “Your scholarship.”

  I go still. “Are you saying you’re not taking that from me? I get to stay here?”

  “No, I’m not taking it from you. You can finish your degree.”

  I push to my feet, and put my hands on his desk. “Then what are you taking?” I don’t know why I’m asking. I don’t want to hear the answer poised on his lips like a sharp blade ready to pierce my heart.

  “You’re being pulled from the football team. I’ll have a talk with Coach Myers and will explain all this to him.”

  My blood drains to my toes as he confirms what I already knew. I stare at him and he fusses with the papers on his desk, indicating the meeting is over. This might be over, but it’s not over between Cochrane and me. Oh no, it’s not over by a long fucking shot.

  I move around the chair, snatch my duffel bag and walk out of his office. The hall narrows in on me as I work to get my anger under control and step outside. I stalk across the campus, scanning everyone and everything I see. My phone pings, and I ignore it. My only focus is on finding Cochrane and giving him a Burnside beating. No one deserves it more.

  I search the campus, but it’s now late afternoon, so he’s probably back at Wolf House having a celebratory drink. The guy finally fucked me over. Why I was such a threat to him is beyond me. Maybe he knew I had a thing for his girl all these years. Maybe he only put her in my arms to finally show me that I was nothing—would always be nothing. But I wasn’t ‘nothing’ to Reagan. I was her everything, and she was mine. That shit was—is—real. I guess in the end, I really did prove to him that I could make her fall for me.

  Was that my goal? Is that why I moved into her house? To take her from Cochrane and show her I was the right guy for her? Talk about everything blowing up in my face.

  “Rocco.”

  I turn at the voice, and Miranda comes into view as she hurries my way. My heart stalls when I see the worried look on her face.

  “Is Reagan okay?” I hold my breath. He better not have gone after her, hurt her or upset her in any way.

  “It’s not Reagan I’m worried about.”

  “She’s good, then?” I ask, the panic in me subsiding slightly. Reagan’s been through enough, and I’m not going to be the guy—won’t be the guy—to tell her what Cochrane did, how he was willing to throw her under the bus, again, just to win. One thing I know about Reagan is she’s a fighter, smart enough to figure out she’s better off without Cochrane in her life.

  Miranda looks me over, and I get what she sees. A goddamn animal on a rampage. It will take the Falcons entire defensive line to stop me from fighting Cochrane, and I’m not even sure that will be enough.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, you look it.” She reaches out to put her hand on my arm and I flinch. “Do
you want to talk about it?”

  I plan to talk about it, with my fist. “I have to go, Miranda.”

  “Rocco, please, you look like you’re ready to murder someone and I can only guess who that someone is. I don’t like him any more than you do.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be trying to stop me.”

  “I’m stopping you for you. Because I care about you and your future.”

  I laugh, and it comes out sounding like an animal caught in a trap with no way out—except to chew off its own leg. Come to think of it, that seems to be a fitting description for my life. Fucked.

  “I have no future, Miranda.”

  The worry in her eyes deepen. “What are you talking about?”

  I swallow, and shift my bag on my shoulder. I shouldn’t say anymore, I’ve said enough, yet the words, “It’s over. Football is over. No chance of the NFL now,” spill from my lips.

  She pales before me, her lips practically trembling. She glances around, searching for the same man I’m after. “What did he do?”

  “Does it even matter now?” I start to walk away and she reaches for me.

  “Rocco, please don’t.”

  “Go home, Miranda. None of this has anything to do with you, and I’ve dragged enough people into my life as it is. I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt.”

  Confusion moves over her face, and of course it does. How could she possibly know the extent Cochrane would go to even hurt Reagan just to get back at me? It’s my fault, really. I never should have gone to that fucking card game, never should have shown up at her place, demanding a room. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And you can’t fix stupid, right?

  I walk away and glance back over my shoulder, but Miranda is on the move, running in the opposite direction. I pick up my pace and start jogging toward Wolf House. My chest swells with all the rage welling up inside me as I cut through the parking lot and head toward the impressive front entrance to the stone building. Blood boils in my veins, a cauldron overflowing, ready to erupt, when I find Dick standing outside laughing with his friends. I drop my bag, and his head lifts, like he was expecting me, as I close the distance between us. He grins at me, and it only stokes the anger inside me.

  “What the fuck do you want, Rocco?” he asks, and cracks his knuckles.

  I’m ready. Come at me, asshole. I take in his friends as they close in. It’s not going to be a fair fight, but there’s definitely going to be a fight. Maybe I want the beating. Maybe I want the pain. Maybe it will take my mind off the hurt of losing what was never mine to begin with.

  “Fuck with me, but you don’t fuck with her,” I growl through clenched teeth.

  He snorts. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Blind rage grips me, and I’m fucking done talking. I pull my arm back, and take the first swing. I punch his jaw, making it a good one because I’m sure it’s the only one I’ll get in. I knock him into the arms of one of his friends. They push him to his feet as someone jumps me from behind and Cochrane comes at me swinging. He hits my jaw and as pain rockets through me, so does a high-pitched female scream.

  Reagan.

  24

  Reagan

  Miranda puts her arms around me, holding my shaking body as fists fly, four against one. Rocco is pulling himself up off the ground, only to receive a boot to the ribs as he rises. Guys and girls come running from Wolf House when they hear the commotion. Rocco tries to turn to see me, but a punch to the face, delivered by Cochrane, stops him.

  He curses and somehow manages to shake off the guys holding him, but can’t break free from the circle of people. Cochrane is bouncing around him, laughing, his fists in the air. Rocco spits blood, and when Cochrane attacks, Rocco lands one solid punch on Cochrane’s jaw, sending him flying backward.

  “Stop!” I scream again and grab my phone ready to call campus police, although I can’t. Rocco can’t get caught fighting. He could lose his scholarship and I don’t want to be the one responsible for that. “Cochrane, stop!” I scream. “I’ll talk to you. Whatever you want.”

  Cochrane grins at me as his buddies help him to his feet. He rubs his jaw and twists his mouth. “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” I agree, anything to stop this barbaric fight, where there can be no winner. I knew this was a long time brewing, and Miranda scared the hell out of me when she found me on campus and told me we needed to get to Wolf House asap. She was too breathless from running to tell me why. Not that I needed her to. I’m smart enough to figure things had come to a head with the two guys in my life. We both ran here as fast as we could, and now, I’ll do anything to put a stop to this unfair fight. “Leave him alone.”

  “I can fight my own battles, Reagan,” Rocco says, his blue eyes dark and cold. “Go home.”

  His words are harsh and cut me a little, but I’m sure he’s not trying to hurt me. In fact, he’s probably trying to protect me. I hold my hand out to him.

  “Let’s go.”

  He stares at me for a second, and I instantly know…I instantly know this is going to be really bad. His eyes hold love as they look at me, but there’s a stark emptiness lurking there too. A hurt that goes deeper than I’ve ever seen before. A hurt that no one can heal. A choking sob gurgles up from the depths of my throat, and Miranda hugs me tighter. She knows this is bad too. The air is thick with volatile emotions. I can taste them on my tongue.

  “Leave, Reagan,” Rocco says through clenched teeth.

  Tears flood my eyes as everyone stares at me, some with phones in their hands to document the moment. No doubt this incident will be all over social media before the next punch is thrown. “Rocco…”

  “Come here, Reagan,” Cochrane orders and his friends part, giving me a direct path to him. Rocco spits blood again and averts his gaze. Does he want me to go to Cochrane? What the hell is going on here?

  “No.” I back up, and Miranda backs up with me.

  Cochrane’s laugh is a twisted bark of cruelty. “Don’t cry for him, Buttercup.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  He smirks, and I’m suddenly frightened of him, of what he can do…of what he might have already done. “No, you’d prefer it if I called you Sunshine, like this loser?”

  My gaze flies to Rocco, waiting for him to react, to fight Cochrane, to protect me. He does nothing and my heart sinks to my stomach. My throat closes so tightly it’s hard to breathe and the scene before me blurs even more through my tears.

  “I don’t want you to call me anything.”

  He snorts, and the hairs on my neck stand. “You have no idea, do you?”

  I need to run as much as I need to stay, to hear what he’s talking about, even though every instinct I possess tells me I’m not going to like it. “What are you talking about?”

  “You think Rocco really liked you?”

  My gaze slides to Rocco. I find him watching me, murder in his eyes, but then it fades, like he has no hope, like the fight has gone out of him. My legs go weak, and I rely on Miranda to keep me standing.

  Cochrane shakes his head and looks at me with pity. “Why do you think I warned you not to fall for him?”

  “I don’t…know.”

  He laughs and it scrapes down my spine, and a cold shiver wracks my body. I hug myself to ward it off. It’s been a long time since I felt such a bone deep cold. Rocco always had a way of warming me. I can’t actually remember the last time I was cold inside.

  Cochrane turns to Rocco. “What was that you said about spreading your Rocco charm?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Cochrane.”

  “No. She should hear what you said. You know, when I said she was too smart to fall for a guy like you and, oh, shit what was your response?” He scrubs his chin like he’s thinking. “Oh, right, I remember. He asked if I was sure about that.” Cochrane whistles. “I don’t know about you, Reagan, but that sure sounds like he was calling you stupid. Unless of course you didn’t fall for him. Then you’re smart, like I said you were.”

&
nbsp; “I…” What the hell is going on? His words bounce around inside my brain, and I glance at my feet, trying to sort things through.

  “Come on, let’s go.” Miranda tugs at me. “You don’t need to hear any of this.”

  I lift my head. Rocco still won’t look at me. Why won’t he look at me?

  Oh, because what Cochrane is saying is true.

  “You’re going to want to hear the rest of it, Buttercup.”

  I sniff and go still, waiting for him to continue as the world goes dark around me. Phones record everything playing out and I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole, because Cochrane was wrong, and Rocco was right. I am stupid.

  “It was all a game, Reagan. He wanted you to fall for him to get back at me. I told him not to touch you. He agreed, but said he couldn’t be held responsible if you touched him first, or if it was his dick you wanted when the month was over.”

  I gasp at the crudeness, and anger propels me forward. I push Cochrane’s friends out of my way and stand before Rocco. His head is down, and blood is dripping from his nose.

  “Look at me.”

  His head lifts, and I don’t know what to make of it. The way he looks at me with warmth, compassion and love robs me of my last breath, but there’s a hardness there too. “Did you say that, Rocco? Did you say all those horrible things?”

  His shoulders tighten, ever so slightly. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have noticed. Wait, what the hell am I saying? If he said those things, then I don’t know him at all, do I?

  “Answer me!”

  “Yes.” His blue eyes go harder than I’ve ever seen them.

  “Told you,” Cochrane says.

  A growl crawls out of Rocco’s throat. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Yeah, shut the fuck up, Cochrane.”

  A smile touches the corners of Rocco’s mouth as I tell Cochrane to fuck off.

  “It’s okay, come here, Buttercup. I’ll make everything better for you. You know you belong with me.”