The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

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The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set Page 135

by J. E. Taylor

“Against Bear, yes, but against the entire team, I don’t think so. You’re good, but not that good.”

  They walked into English class together and the talking stopped. Jaws dropped open and Tom ignored them, taking his assigned seat. He opened his book to the assignment and glanced at the teacher. Her expression matched that of the class and he ripped a piece of paper out of his notebook and scribbled in large block letters. I AM INNOCENT. He held it up for the teacher knowing his irritation was visible on his face, just by the tightness in his jaw.

  Miss Simpson glanced at the note and returned her gaze to his and he held her steady stare. The fear etched in her face softened and she nodded.

  “Okay, class, please open your books to page one hundred and twenty-four,” Miss Simpson said.

  Tom paid attention and took notes, but he didn’t ask any questions or draw any more attention to himself. For the duration of her class, life seemed almost normal and he was more thankful for her acceptance than he could articulate. When the bell rang, he lingered packing his things slowly while CJ waited at the door.

  He met Miss Simpson’s gaze and sent the sign for thank you in her direction.

  She gave him a nod and he turned toward CJ and the hostility in the hallway. With a deep breath, he headed to his next class. Outside of the initial confrontation in the hall, the morning went by without another incident; however, the tension level in the hallways increased as the day went on.

  After history, CJ went to his honors science class and Tom headed toward the cafeteria. Dread slowed his approach and he took a deep breath. Knowing he had done nothing wrong didn’t help, especially with the judgmental glares he received from every student.

  He got in the lunch line and the kids in front of him hurried through the line, giving him a wide berth. The fear in their gaze stroked a frigid draft across his skin and he sighed. They all had rendered him guilty. His friends, his teachers, even his teammates thought he was capable of the atrocious murders. When he got to the end of the line, his hands shook as he peeled off the cash for his meal and the cashier took it with extreme caution, like touching him would result in her death.

  Tom wanted to scream and throw his tray across the room, but he willed his aggravation into the hard pit of his stomach and headed toward an empty table near the courtyard, taking a seat with his back to the rest of the student body. He couldn’t deal with the stares anymore and ate alone in silence, wishing he could just disappear into the woodwork.

  Sudden pain flared in the back of his head and he fell towards the table, catching himself before his face hit the surface. He blinked away the bright lights flaring in his eyes and turned in time to see the backside of the heavy-duty tray coming toward his face. He didn’t have enough time to react and the hard plastic smashed into his cheek with the force of a baseball bat, catapulting him onto the floor.

  Tom rolled, getting to his feet on wobbly legs and his blurry gaze landed on Bear and the rest of the team converging on him like wolves cornering their prey. His survival instinct kicked in and his martial arts training took over. He shifted into ready stance, ignoring the pain in his face.

  “Come o,” he said, waving them in but the steady glare he sent in their direction made them hesitate. Tom counted ten linebackers surrounding Bear and he exhaled, willing away the fear threatening to close his throat.

  Bear tossed the tray on the table and charged. The team followed.

  Tom deflected the first four swings, but the fifth caught him in the temple stunning him enough for a few of the guys to grab his arms. Bear slammed a fist into his stomach and Tom swore it pummeled him all the way to his spine. His breath expelled in a grunt of pain and his knees wobbled. A second fist caught his chin, snapping his head to the right, and dark spots appeared in his vision. Bear’s second hit lifted his body off the floor and he cried out in pain.

  The third punch was aimed at his nose and Tom blinked bleary eyes, following the trajectory and he prayed the punch was strong enough to send broken bits of his nose into his brain. He welcomed death.

  Bear’s fist stopped less than an inch from his face and he was yanked away by an invisible hand and thrown across the cafeteria. The rest of the team was thrown as well and Tom fell to his hands and knees, his gaze landing on the doorway and a very pissed CJ. Ryan.

  CJ walked straight across the room and everything in his path swept aside like a bulldozer went through it, leaving a wide path. When Bear got to his feet and charged, CJ snarled, “You just fucked with the wrong person.” He held up his hand, stopping Bear cold.

  “You should have let them kill me,” Tom signed when CJ reached him.

  CJ grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. “You know me better than that,” CJ said and headed toward the door with Tom limping beside him.

  “What the hell are you?” Bear whispered as they passed.

  CJ turned in his direction with his arm supporting his brother. “I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” he said using his father’s favorite line and leveling the same glare in Bear’s direction.

  Tom saw him shiver and dropped his head to hide his smile of satisfaction. You still have to go to practice after school, he thought and met his brother’s gaze.

  “Maybe I’ll just quit the team,” CJ muttered, helping Tom out of the cafeteria.

  Where are you taking me? Tom asked as they passed the office, heading toward the parking lot.

  “Home,” CJ said.

  I can’t leave. Tom thought and tried to stop but CJ kept moving. Just take me to the nurse’s office.

  CJ stopped at the door and sighed. “If I take you to the nurse, you’ll end up in the emergency room.”

  Tom stared at CJ and brought his free hand to his face. Just grazing his fingers across his cheek brought a fresh bout of pain, leaving him dizzy and nauseous and when he pulled his hand away; his fingertips were covered in blood.

  “Shi,” he muttered and met his brother’s gaze. “Nurse,” he signed.

  “You sure?”

  Tom paused and looked out at the parking lot, debating. “If I fu up o my fir ay, ey wi pu me ba i jai,” he said and met CJ’s gaze.

  “They won’t put you back in jail,” CJ said.

  Tom nodded. “Nurse,” he signed and started limping in that direction without CJ’s help. Each step created a web of pain through his abdomen and a pounding hell in his head and he reached for the wall. Now that the adrenaline rush faded, every step brought a nuance of agony, making him grit his teeth. The last time his body hurt this bad was in Georgia, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hanging his head so CJ couldn’t see the pain etched in his face.

  “You want my help?” CJ asked stepping in stride with him.

  “Ya,” Tom whispered and wrapped his arm around CJ’s neck, leaning on him for support as they shuffled down the hall.

  Chapter 18

  “What the hell happened?” Steve bellowed at the nurse. He pointed toward Tom, lying semi-conscious on a cot in the corner, with a bloody rag pressed to his cheek. “When I dropped him off, there wasn’t a scratch on him.”

  “I don’t know, sir,” the nurse said, her gaze bouncing between Tom and the floor in front of Steve. “He came in alone and said he had an accident. That’s all I was able to get out of him before he passed out.”

  Steve crossed and took a seat on the edge of the cot. “Who did this to you?”

  Tom opened his good eye and shook his head. Leave it alone.

  “The hell I will,” he whispered.

  “The ambulance should be here any moment,” the nurse said and Steve turned toward her.

  “You called an ambulance?”

  “He needs medical attention, sir,” she said.

  “I can see that, but I said I’d take care of it when you called.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I just thought…” she trailed off.

  The knot between his shoulders tightened and he glared at her. She assumed he wouldn’t take care of Tom; that he was every bit the asshole the news
made him out to be and he bit down on the response, turning back to Tom. “I’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital,” he said and pulled the towel away from Tom’s cheek.

  Tom winced in response.

  Steve stared at the ugly gash deep enough to require several stitches and the purple and swollen skin stretched over Tom’s cheekbone. He pulled up Tom’s shirt and looked at the purple bruises on his abdomen, ones that were indicative of a fist pummeling flesh and he dropped the fabric back in place before meeting Tom’s half-open eye. Hot fury cascaded through him, coiling in the center of his chest just itching to let loose. He closed his eyes, willing the feral beast to calm down before it grew to a level he couldn’t control.

  “Does CJ know where you are?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  Tom nodded.

  “Will he tell me what happened?”

  Tom’s head shook side to side and Steve clenched his fists.

  “I will find out who did this to you,” Steve said and Tom closed his eyes.

  Please, just let it go.

  “I can’t let it go. This isn’t right,” he said and Tom’s eyes opened.

  CJ’s handling it.

  A pair of EMTs stepped into the nurse’s office approaching Tom with a stretcher and he struggled to sit up. Steve helped him to his feet and over to the stretcher, wondering just how much internal damage there was when Tom flopped down, wheezing from the effort. He followed the medics to the ambulance.

  “I’ll meet you in the emergency room,” he said before the doors closed. He turned, giving the nurse a final glare before slipping into his car. As the ambulance pulled out, Steve opened his phone, pressing his speed dial. “Ron, Tom’s being taken to the hospital; can you run interference for me?”

  “What happened?”

  “Tom got the shit beat out of him at school,” Steve said, the clip in his voice enough to cause his boss to suck the air in between his teeth.

  “Did you file a complaint?”

  “No. Tom’s not naming names.”

  A beat of silence passed. “I’ll take care of it. Just make sure your boy is okay.”

  “I’ll let you know what happens,” Steve said and hung up the phone, bracing himself for a nasty confrontation.

  Chapter 19

  CJ sat in the middle of the empty locker room with his head down and his hands resting on his thighs. Anger burned through him and he silently counted, getting control over the overwhelming hostility. If he didn’t have this under control when the team came through the door, there wouldn’t be anything to stop the bloodbath.

  The bell sounded, and the shuffle of students heading for the buses filled the hallway. Each second that ticked by increased the thrum of power in his veins and CJ closed his eyes, trying to find his chi, his calm place where his temper was always in check.

  But it remained elusive, just out of reach.

  He didn’t budge from his spot when the first player stepped into the locker room. He didn’t even raise his head, but his hands tightened on his thighs.

  “Joe, you might want to be scarce for a while,” he said and his voice carried a dangerous edge that blanketed a chill over the entire room.

  Joe didn’t have a chance to leave before the rest of the team came in, including the group that pounded Tom into oblivion. As soon as they were inside the locker room, all the doors slammed, locking at CJ's will, and an eerie silence settled over everyone.

  CJ clamped his teeth together and raised his head, glaring at the group. He stood, kicking the chair behind him and settled into his ready stance with his hands loose by his side. “You assholes blindsided Tom.”

  “CJ, we don’t…” Bear started but CJ cut him off.

  “Shut the fuck up.” CJ growled. “He’s my brother. You should have thought of that before you beat the shit out of him."

  “But…”

  “I’m interested in finding out how you would do in a fair fight,” CJ said, staring down Bear. He moved his gaze to the rest of the team gathered behind Bear. “How you all do against someone who knows you’re coming.”

  “We don’t have a beef with you,” Bear said, bringing his palms up in an attempt to calm CJ.

  “It’s your choice, Bear. You can leave here with just a few broken bones or you can leave in a body bag,” CJ said. The anger bubbled just below the surface and he spread his arms wide. “I’ll even give you the first shot.”

  No one moved.

  “Come on!” CJ bellowed and his hands curled into fists.

  “Maybe you should take a walk,” Joe said and CJ turned his gaze to his right, meeting Joe’s stare.

  “They put Tom in the hospital. It’s payback time.”

  “He got what he deserved,” Bear said and stepped into the empty space, throwing a right hook in CJ’s direction.

  CJ parried, blocking the blow and sending a punch of his own into Bear’s stomach. Bear’s grunt of pain sent a thrill of satisfaction through CJ, but before he could deliver the knock out strike, his intuition prickled and he spun, his arm already in motion to block, but he miscalculated and the biggest linebacker on the team hit him square in the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

  CJ shook off the blow and reset his stance, waving the team in.

  This time they didn’t hesitate, coming at him as one unified unit.

  Anger transitioned to desperation and even though he threatened body bags, CJ couldn’t bring himself to enlist his powers against the team he had shared the football field with over the last three years. He couldn’t condone drawing blood with an invisible hand they couldn’t defend against, but that didn’t stop him from using his fists, doling out hits that cracked a few bones. But even his third degree black belt wasn’t enough to defend against seven linebackers, and their fists connected more times than he could count, leaving substantial bruises.

  Exhaustion took its toll, squeezing the fire out of CJ and he stumbled back against the lockers, surveying the damage in front of him. A couple of the guys were out cold on the floor, their temples bruised from where CJ’s punches landed. One linebacker gripped his leg, his face contorted in extreme pain and Bear leaned against the opposite bank of lockers, holding his side and flexing his hand, his face a grim mask.

  CJ ran the back of his hand across his lips, pulling it away and staring at the blood on his fist. He raised his gaze. “Tom’s innocent and if you so much as lay a finger on him again, this will feel like a walk in the park compared to what I’ll do to you next time.”

  He stumbled toward the door and a shadow passed over his shoulder as he reached for the lock. He shot a glare over his shoulder and the chair coming down toward his head stopped in mid-air. He met Bear’s shocked gaze and slowly turned.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with or what I really could do to you,” he growled and let a push escape. Bear and the chair he was swinging at CJ went flying across the locker room into the beat up mass of linebackers, knocking them to the ground like a group of bowling pins.

  CJ willed the locks to release and took off, limping down the hall using the building anger to drive his steps forward despite the pain. When he got to the car, he slid onto the seat and flipped his phone open. He leaned back and dialed, putting the receiver to his ear.

  “I’m not going to make it in tonight,” he said, his voice shallow and weak as the adrenaline drained from his bones. The restaurant didn’t question him and he hung up, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot, shutting his mind off, diffusing his anger and following his heart.

  Chapter 20

  Steve turned, meeting Detective O’Keefe’s sharp gaze and the layers of irritation bloomed. “You have got to be kidding me?”

  “I’m just checking to see why Tom left school early and diverted from the route.”

  “He got beat up at school,” Steve said and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m sure you’re aware that an ambulance brought him here, right?”

  “I knew an ambul
ance was dispatched to the school,” O’Keefe said, stuffing the paper he held back into his pocket. “But I wasn’t aware of the particulars.”

  Steve crossed his arms and stared at the Detective. “So you thought Tom hurt someone?” he asked, pulling the thoughts from O’Keefe’s mind.

  O’Keefe shrugged in response.

  “That’s such bullshit,” Steve muttered, his temper as raw as his nerves.

  “Excuse me,” A voice interrupted from behind Steve.

  He turned, taking in the petite red head holding Tom’s chart in her hand.

  “Agent Williams,” she asked looking between Steve and the detective.

  “Yes,” Steve ignored the flare of irritation coating his mind and focused on the doctor.

  “Your son is banged up pretty badly, sir,” she started and scanned the chart. “This wasn’t an accident.” She leveled an accusatory glare in his direction.

  “I’m aware of that but he’s refused to tell me who did this to him.”

  “It wasn’t just one person, sir,” she said and he nodded. “Out of all his injuries, his concussion is the one that concerns me the most. He’s having issues keeping his eyes focused and I’d like to keep him overnight for observation.”

  Steve glanced at Detective O’Keefe and then back at the doctor. “I’d rather take him home,” he said and received a glare from the doctor.

  “If you’re worried about the bill…”

  Steve let a small laugh escape. This doctor was clueless as to who the patient in the room was, otherwise she would have known just how ludicrous that statement was. “No ma’am, cost is not an issue. I’d just feel more comfortable with him at home in his own room.”

  “I don’t…”

  Steve raised his hand, stopping her. “I’m sorry, but he’ll be safer at home,” he clarified, cutting off her protest.

  “I assure you he will be safe here,” the doctor said.

  “Really,” Steve said, crossing his arms and stiffening his stance. “I insist.”

  Her lips thinned and she traded a glance with the detective before nodding ascent. “Fine, I’ll have the nurse give you the instructions for his care and if he slips into a coma, it’s on you,” she said, her voice clipping with frustration.

 

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