Page 96 of The No Try Zone
His voice goes soft. “And then he left you?”
I’m done lying. So I nod again, twin emotions of fury and absolute devastation swirling in my chest.
His chest heaves as he turns and closes the distance to Colin. Before either of us know what’s happening, he pulls his arm back and punches his coach, decking Colin’s cheek with a right hook that makes my stomach heave.
“Ollie!”
“You fucking married my sister and left her?” Ollie seethes, mere inches from Colin’s face. “What kind of piece of shit are you?”
Colin rubs at his jaw, his entire body coiled with tension and his face a mottled red. “You should leave. This is between me and your sister.”
“Fuck. You.” Ollie lunges again, but I reach for him. This time, it’s enough to stop him.
“Let’s go.” I keep my voice even, focused only on my little brother.
Ollie turns to me, and all I see in his eyes are memories of a father lost too soon. It’s devastating. “Come on,” I urge softly. “I’ll explain the rest.”
He relents, a soul-gutting whimper coming out of him that nearly cuts me off at the knees, and I move us toward the door with deliberate steps.
“Sam,” Colin’s voice comes from behind me.
I pause, my grip still tight on Ollie’s arm to keep us moving forward.
“Sam, please,” he rasps.
But I can’t do it. “You should put some ice on your jaw,” I say, keeping my eyes trained forward. It takes everything in me to keep walking.
We don’t speak on the way home. Ollie is tense, his knuckles blanching on the wheel. But even through he’s practically incandescent with rage, he drives the speed limit, uses his blinkers, never curses…never says anything. I can’t tell if he’s angry with me or Colin or both of us, but I don’t bother asking. This isn’t a conversation to have while driving in Atlanta traffic. It’s not until he pulls into his parking spot and kills the engine that he breaks the silence.
“Five months.” He turns toward me, his bulk looming large in the Bronco. When I meet his eyes, the same ice blue as mine and Dad’s, they break me. They’re haunted. Sad.
I meet his gaze. “Five months.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
I want to scoff. What would he have done about any of it? Quit the team? Unacceptable. I reach for his hand, threading our fingers together and squeezing. “Because there was nothing you could do. I had my girlfriends for that.”
“I’m yourbrother, Sam. We’re who knows how far away from home in a country that will just as soon see us swallowed whole by snakes than help us.Ishould be who you lean on.I’mthe one who’s supposed to protect you. And don’t start with that ‘you only came to the States to help me’ crap,” he chides gently.
“You’re right. I should have told you,” I admit. “But you were busy with getting ready for the season, and I had no clue who he was that night. It wasn’t until I saw him at the picnic…” I trail off. It’s hard to talk with him about it.
He reaches for the handle and gets out of the car, so I do the same. But instead of heading to his own apartment, he rounds the hood of the Bronco and pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
The words break something in me. I squeeze him back, fighting down the tears that threaten to come. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”
“Does Mum know?”
“God, no,” I scoff. “Are you kidding?”
“Yeah, she’d be right pissed,” he agrees as he releases me. “Come on. You’re telling me the whole story.”
I lead the way to my apartment. “I’ll put the kettle on.” Before we go inside, I look at him one last time. “I really am sorry for not telling you.”
He gives me a soft smile. “You don’t have to protect me, you know. Despite what you and Mum think, I really am a grown man.”
I laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
He groans in response. Inside, once we’re both settled on the couch with mugs of tea and our favorite biscuits from back home that Mum sent last week, I give him the story. Minus the sex part, which I don’t think he needs to know about.
