by L A Cotton
“Okay,” I interrupted. “Not that I’m not enjoying watching whatever this is,” I wagged my finger between them, “but I need to go. I don’t want to keep George waiting.”
“Call me as soon as you get done,” Mya said, “I want to hear all about dreamy George.”
“Dreamy George?” Asher frowned. “Isn’t he the manager of the place?”
“The very young, very cute manager,” Mya nodded. “Flick’s words, not mine.”
“You have a crush, Fee, baby? I’m wounded.”
“I do not have a crush.” Heat spread along my neck and into my cheeks. “George is... nice. He’s also going to be my boss so...”
“Kinky.” Asher grinned, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Gross,” I hissed, waving him off. “Right, I’m out of here. I’ll call you both later. Asher, it was a pleasure as always.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” he called as I left them to it. “Oh and Fee? Make sure George keeps his paws to himself. See what I did there... paws.” He exploded with laughter as I rolled my eyes and headed out of the building.
Wondering what I was getting myself into.
Turned out, I had nothing to worry about. When I’d arrived at the center, Serena had welcomed me, handing me a stack of paperwork to fill in. Then she traded me the papers for a volunteer handbook which she left me to study while she dealt with some clients. George eventually showed up to walk me through the volunteer schedule and list of duties. I’d missed the latest round of volunteer training, so for now I’d have to learn the ropes as I went, but I was just relieved to be there.
“I had no idea there was so much involved in pet adoption,” I said, shadowing George as he scrubbed a new arrival: Benji, a cute one-year-old puppy, brought in by his parents who were getting a divorce and no longer wanted him. He was so frickin’ cute, with big, round eyes and thick soft fur, the color of the sand.
“Our matching process is rigorous and time consuming, but it means better success rates. Something we’re very proud of.”
“I’m so excited to get started.”
“And we’re excited to have you. You’ll get to meet the other volunteers over the weekend. I think Sandie, Hale, and Lisa are in Saturday, and then Tom and Beth are down for Sunday.”
“There’s five of them?” I asked, confused.
“Yes, didn’t I already explain that?”
“You did, but I’d just assumed someone had left since the position came up.” And I definitely remembered him telling me there were at capacity.
“Ah.” George flushed bright red. “We shuffled things around and managed to find you some hours after all.”
“Wow, that’s… wow.”
“It’s actually great timing as Sandie recently announced she’s pregnant, so she’ll be looking to drop her hours as her pregnancy progresses.”
“Oh, okay then, if you’re sure.” I couldn’t shake Mya’s insinuation George’s motives weren’t entirely innocent.
“There’s nothing to worry about, I promise. I know how important hands-on experience can be for a college application, so if we can do our bit to help you…” He let his words hang.
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
He beamed, the color in his cheeks returning to normal. “You want to takeover while I grab the rest of the supplies?”
“For real?” I started pushing my sleeves up.
“Of course, get in here. Benji is one of our friendlier arrivals.”
“He’s so cute. I can’t wrap my head around the fact they no longer wanted him.”
“He’ll be rehomed in no time. He’s one of the better cases, trust me. Okay, if you get in here,” George held onto Benji but stepped back letting me slip around him, so I was closest to the tub and the puppy, “that’s it. Now slide one hand to his collar.” Our fingers brushed as he withdrew his hand and it was my turn to blush. George cleared his throat and jerked back.
“You can start rinsing him off and then dry him with that towel.” He flicked his head over to the counter and a stack of towels.
“Rinse and dry, got it.”
“Excellent, I’ll be right back.”
George left and I took my time washing Benji. He was a placid thing, letting me scrub and run my fingers through his soaked coat. “You like that, boy?” I cooed earning me an eager lick to the face. Laughter bubbled up, the smile on my face so wide it hurt. But there was something so right about being here, that I felt happiness wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“We good in here?” George’s voice perforated my bubble.
“We’re fi—” Benji chose that exact moment to shake off his fur, spraying droplets of water everywhere. “Oh my…”
George handed me a towel. “Here, get dried off while I pat him down.”
“Does that happen a lot?”
“Yep, hazard of the job I’m afraid,” he chuckled.
“It’s funny,” I said toweling myself off, “I’ve kind of drifted through high school, never being sure what I wanted to do. Happy to go along with my parents’ plan for me. But being here, it’s like I know this is what I want to do. Gosh, I bet that sounds so cliché.”
“It doesn’t. I felt the same, back in the day. I knew being a doctor was what my parents wanted for me. But I’d be at the hospital, visiting my gran when she was sick, or hanging out with my dad on his rare day off, and I never felt that connection. I knew it would be rewarding, to heal people, save lives. But it never felt like what I was destined to do.”
“How am I going to tell them?” I whispered the words.
“If it makes you happy, eventually it’ll make them happy.”
He made it sound so easy.
“Look at it this way, you could spend the next four years of your life at college, surfing along studying a course that’s okay, or you could spend the next four years of your life studying something that excites you. Something you feel passionate about. Who knows where the future will take you, but wouldn’t you rather be on a path you choose? Sorry,” George added. “Like I said before, sometimes things just spill out before I can stop them.”
“I admire it actually. It’s nice to meet someone who understands where I’m coming from.”
“Surely there must be someone? A best friend? Boyfriend?”
“Best friend, yes. Boyfriend, no.” My stomach dipped. “But I’m not sure Hailee really gets it. She’s always known what she wanted to do.”
George’s expression had changed, his eyes fixed on mine, searching for something.
“George?” I asked, breaking the strange tension that had descended over us.
“What? Sorry.” He shook his head. “It’s been a long day. Where were we?”
Benji chose that moment to shake his fur again, soaking George. I grabbed some towels and hurried over to them. “Thanks,” he said, “that’ll teach me for not paying more attention.”
The moment between us had passed, but I couldn’t help but wonder what had him so distracted in the first place.
Jason
“You’re sure about this?” Grady asked for the twentieth time that week.
“This thing needs to end now.”
“I’m not disagreeing, I just don’t understand why you’re not taking Bennet and Chase for back up. Well, Chase I kind of get. If Thatcher had come after my girl the way he went after Hailee, I wouldn’t be able to—”
“Grady…”
“Shutting up,” he groaned. “So we’re really doing this?”
“I’m doing this. I just need you there in case things go south.”
He let out a low whistle. “And you’re sure we can’t hold off doing this until after we win State?”
“It has to be now.”
“If Coach—”
“Coach won’t find out.” Thatcher was many things, but he wasn’t a snitch.
“I could call a couple of the other guys—”
“If you’re having second thoughts, man, I’ll go alone.”
/>
“Nah, I’ve got you. I just think this is a bad idea. A really bad idea.”
I didn’t disagree but Thatcher wanted his pound of flesh and he was determined to get it one way or another. At least this way, if I met him one on one, it would be a fair fight. Besides, it wasn’t the first time we’d rumbled. I knew I could take him.
“Noted. I’ll see you in ten.”
“Yeah, yeah. See you there.” I hung up and grabbed my keys off the sideboard. It was almost sundown. Cameron was out with Hailee, and Asher’s parents were in town for a flying visit and had insisted on taking him for dinner. Dad and Denise were off doing whatever the fuck they did on Friday nights. The coast was clear.
Until I walked out of the house.
“Aimee?” I stared at the girl who had screwed me over once upon a time. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hey, Jason,” she gave me a tentative smile, “it’s been a while.”
“Not long enough.” My teeth ground together. “Let me guess, your brother sent you.”
“Actually he doesn’t know I’m here. If he did...” She trailed off, her eyes darting to the ground. “Can we talk?”
“You can say whatever you came to say, yeah, and then you can get the fuck off my property.”
“Jason...” she let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair. When I didn’t respond she added, “That’s fair enough. I guess I earned that.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled beneath my breath.
Aimee lifted her eyes to mine again, sympathy and regret swimming in her brown irises. “I suppose it’s too late to say I’m sorry?”
“Apologies mean nothing out of the mouths of liars.”
“I never meant to hurt you... it just all went too far and—”
“Save it,” I snapped, my chest heaving with frustration.
There had been a time when I’d wanted the girl standing before me. Wanted her so bad, I let down my walls. Opened up to her. There wasn’t an inch of her skin I hadn’t tasted. A dip or curve or blemish I hadn’t trailed my lips over. I thought I’d known everything there was to know about the quiet girl from across the river... until I’d found out she was none other than Lewis Thatcher’s little sister.
Anger rushed through my veins, igniting a firestorm in my chest. There had never been any love lost between me and Thatcher, but Aimee had changed everything. Turned our rivalry into a war that spilled off the field and into our lives, affecting everyone around us.
“You got your revenge, Jase, isn’t that enough? What you did to me—”
“Don’t fucking talk to me about what I did. You reeled me in for weeks, let me believe what we had was real. I felt things for you I had never felt before and it was all a lie.”
I had been falling in love with her. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it happened. Even at the time I hadn’t realized. It was after, when I learned who she really was, that I understood how deep my feelings ran for Aimee Thatcher—my enemy’s sister.
“It wasn’t,” she cried, swiping at the tears falling from her eyes. “What we shared was real. It was real. It wasn’t supposed to be, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help falling for you.”
Closing the distance between us, I stopped right in front of her. Looming over her, my eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “You played me, Aimee. You made me weak and defenseless and then, when I was completely at your mercy, you stabbed the knife in my back and watched me bleed out.”
“Jason...” Aimee’s voice trembled as she craned her neck to look at me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m only sorry I didn’t completely destroy you.” The words came out low and deadly, laced with the pain of our past.
When I’d found out who she was and what she’d planned with her brother, I’d concocted a plan of my own. I would never forget the look on Thatcher’s face when he opened the video message of me fucking his sister. It had been all the revenge I’d needed, but it had been the catalyst for everything since.
“You were always mean, Jason, but I’ll forever regret turning you into... this.” A violent sob spilled from Aimee’s lips as she stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“I only came to warn you,” she added. “Lewis is out to destroy you. He wants to make sure you never see the play-offs. If you have any sense, you won’t go.”
I ran a hand over my head and down the back of my neck, the weight of her words pressing on my chest like a ton of bricks. “Is that all?”
“I mean it, Jason,” she warned, “he’s out for blood. Your blood.”
Another time, another place, I would have replied with some cocky statement about him being all talk and no action. But the stakes had changed. I went after his sister and he’d come after mine, but I hadn’t retaliated then. I’d been biding my time, waiting for the right time to go after him.
But my time was up.
I had to decide.
Fight.
Or flee.
Something Hailee once told me flashed in my mind, and I couldn’t help but think, no matter what I decided, there would be only one loser at the end of this.
Me.
“You should go, Aimee.” Shouldering around her, I headed straight for my car. The sooner we got this over with, the better.
“Jason, don’t do this…” Her cries bounced off the window like rain against glass. Aimee made it sound like I had a choice but running was never a choice, and my mind was already made up.
Grabbing my cell phone, I shot Grady a quick text before firing up the engine and gunning out of the driveway. Aimee’s defeated figure shrank in the rear-view mirror. I’d played in my fair share of dog fights. Football games where players broke the rules and cared more about hurting each other than scoring a touchdown.
As far as I was concerned, this wasn’t any different.
Thatcher wanted my blood?
Fine.
But I’d make him work for it.
It was quiet down at No Man’s Land when we arrived. Grady sat tense beside me, tapping his fingers against his thigh.
“Nervous?” I asked, surveying the stretch of land in front of us. It was right beside the bridge, sheltered by the huge cement pillars. Part of it ran underneath, only accessible when the river ran low. Which wasn’t often. When we were kids, we’d hang out down there, daring each other to try to make it across. Kids doing the kind of shit kids do.
This wasn’t like that though.
This was different.
“What’s the plan?” Grady ignored my original question.
“Plan?” I side-eyed him. “I’m going to beat the shit out of him and send him crawling back across the river with my initials scratched into his fucking skin.”
“Jesus, Cap.” Grady let out a low whistle. “Are you sure we shouldn’t call—”
“The less people involved, the better. If you want to walk, walk. I won’t hold it against you.” I wasn’t scared; I was fucking furious. It burned through me, liquid fire in my veins.
“Fuck that. I’m staying. Just promise me if things get too messy, we’ll leave.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The lie rolled off my tongue. No way was I leaving until Thatcher got the message loud and clear not to mess with me and mine.
“Shall we then?”
We climbed out, the bitter fall wind slamming into us. “Shit, it’s cold.”
“Grow a pair, Grady.” I smirked as I flexed my arms either side of me and took off toward the riverside. Thatcher was waiting but he wasn’t alone.
“Surprised you came,” he drawled.
“I’m a man of my word.”
“Interesting.” He inclined his head, scratching his jaw. “You didn’t come alone.” Thatcher’s hard gaze moved to Grady.
“Neither did you.” My eyes went to the goon at his side.
“Didn’t want to miss you get your ass handed to you, Ford,” Gallen said, stepping up to his teammate.
>
Anger shot up my spine knowing that he’d put his hands on Felicity.
“Yeah, yeah, are we doing this or what?”
“Oh, we’re doing it. But you really should have brought reinforcements.” His lip twisted as a handful of other Eagles’ players stepped out from the shadows.
“Whoa, this isn’t what was agreed,” Grady said, edging closer to me.
Thatcher shrugged, yanking his hoodie and shirt clean off in one. “Yeah, well, the game just changed.”
My eyes ran over each of them; players I recognized. Players I’d gone head to head with on the field more times than I could count. Players who I knew would do anything for their captain and quarterback.
Even if he was a complete dickwad.
“The difference between me and you?” I said. “I refuse to take my players down with me.”
“The righteous Jason Ford everyone,” Thatcher swept his arm around him, “how fucking poetic.”
Letting out a fake yawn, I glanced at Grady. “Bored yet? I know I am.” Grabbing the hem of my hoodie and jersey, I pulled them off, throwing them down at my teammate’s feet.
Thatcher glanced back at his audience, ready to showboat a little more, but I was done talking. Head down, shoulder cocked, I tackled him to the ground. We landed with a thud, his grunts filling the air while I rammed my fists into his side.
“Motherfucker!” He roared, bucking and thrashing against me. His fist came up hard, crunching into the soft flesh of my neck and I rolled away, momentarily winded.
“Cheap shot, Ford,” he gritted out, clambering to his feet.
Before I could anticipate his next move, two of his teammates wrestled me to my feet, restraining my arms behind my back.
“Hey, hey,” Grady rushed over to us, “that wasn’t—” His head snapped back as Gallen’s fist caught his cheek, and the two of them began going at it.
“Is this how you win?” I seethed, “by playing dirty.”
“No,” Thatcher grinned, “this is how I end your season.” His fists slammed into my ribs. Over and over. Knocking the air clean out my lungs. Pain ricocheting through me. The hands restraining me loosened their grip and I dropped forward onto my knees, my hands breaking my fall.
