Page 52 of The Striker
Not how he wanted the date to end? What did he think was going to happen after dinner? It was just a dinner date, right? I mean, I didn’t plan on there being anything else after that. But if he did?—
He probably just meant he planned to order dessert or something.
“It’s okay. We both had fun. That’s all that matters.”
“Yeah.” He sighs and glances at the clock on the dash. “Would it be okay …” He trails off, and I turn to face him in my seat.
“What?”
With a grimace he adds, “My buddy was calling because he left his bag in my car.” He tilts his chin, and I peer in the backseat, spotting the dark red backpack in question. “He has a chemistry exam in the morning and needs his books to study. His place is on the way. Could we maybe …”
“You want to drop it off on the way?”
Relief flickers across his face. “Yeah. Would that be okay?”
“Of course,” I tell him. No big deal.
15GABRIEL
Isink into the leather sectional, my mind racing with a million thoughts. Felix and Deacon sit on either side of me, their bodies taut with tension as we huddle together in our living room. The soft glow of the flatscreen TV casts an eerie light, but none of us pay any attention to the game footage playing on the screen.
Felix reaches into a worn manila folder, the excitement dancing in his dark eyes undeniable. He pulls out a stack of photographs, each one more damning than the last. He fans them out on the coffee table before us like a winning hand in a high-stakes poker game, and for a moment, we're all acutely aware of the gravity of our situation.
"Okay, guys," Felix begins, his voice laced with determination. “I think we have enough.” He gestures at the photos of Austin and our coach's underage daughter, Giana, caught in various compromising positions. "Now we just need to figure out how to get this to Coach.”
“Fuck, this is—” I don’t like this.
Deacon picks up one particularly damning photo. Before today, all Felix had were close-ups. Austin looming over Gigi. Maybe kissing her neck. They were inappropriate, sure, given the age difference. But not illegal, per se.
But this…
"We shouldn't have these," Deacon mutters, his gaze fixed on the photo. "This is ... wrong.” He throws the photo back on the table. You can’t see her intimate parts. Thank fuck for that. But you can tell the girl is naked. Austin is similarly undressed and settled between her legs. The photo is taken from a window, the image a little blurry but clear enough to reveal the intimate nature of the scene within. To know exactly what’s happening in that room.
“If you think this is bad,” Felix shakes his head. “This is just what we have proof of. If what Rion Pru told me can be believed, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
Deacon’s jaw tightens. “Fuck guys like this.”
Yeah. My thoughts exactly.
I run a hand through my hair. ”We can't just go to Coach with these. He already thinks we have it out for Austin." My history with Holt is shitty at best, and growing worse day by day. Coach made it official after our last game and gave me Holt’s spot on the team as the striker, leaving him in reserves. If shit was ugly before, it’s gotten way uglier.
”Coach is going to want to know how we got these. And then what? What do we say?” I can't imagine how he’d react if he knew we resorted to stalking the sonovabitch.
My phone rings, and I check the caller I.D. ‘Pops’ flashes across the screen. I silence the call, ignoring the flash of irritation I feel at seeing his name illuminate my screen.
Deacon rubs a hand over the intricate scroll design tattooed on his neck, his expression troubled. "We should have someone else give him the photographs. Someone Coach trusts implicitly."
Felix leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he ponders the idea. "So, who do we know that can handle this?"
Julio is the obvious suggestion since he’s Captain on the team, but Coach will still ask questions. Questions none of us want to be responsible for answering.
“What about Jameia?" Felix asks.
Deacon's eyes light up at the suggestion. “Our assistant Coach?”
“You know any other Jameias?” Felix deadpans. The gears in my head start whirling. This could work. She's close to Coach, and she's a hell of a lot easier to talk to about stuff like this than he is."
Deacon grins, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "I like it. I volunteer as tribute. It's the perfect excuse to talk to her about something other than soccer." He scratches the back of his neck. “I swear that woman avoids me every chance she gets.”
