Page 69 of Ruthless Blade

"What about Ivy?" I asked.

Coach sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Again, security and police are looking into it, but it’s going to take time. Since they fled the scene, the police can’t arrest them right on the spot. They have to gather evidence, eye witness accounts and so on.”

"She's in the hospital, Coach,” there was a slight edge to my voice. “She was beaten up and..." I stopped, knowing that if I kept going, I’d get pissed all over again. Ready to make someone pay.

"I know," He said, voice firm. "I saw the footage. I know what they did. But this has to go through the proper channels. We can’t just...”

"Why not?" I snapped. “Why can’t I handle it my fucking self?”

"Daniel," he stood up, his voice cutting through mine. "I get it, I do. But you going off and trying to handle it yourself is only going to make it worse.”

"How?" I demanded. "How is that going to make shit worse?”

"It’s not about you," he said, his gaze hardening, making me take a step back. "It's about her. Not to mention, the combine is in a few weeks with the draft shortly after. How do you think she’s going to feel knowing you got kicked out because you were defending her honor? Think smarter, not harder.”

I stared at him, chest heaving, not saying a word. He’s right. Dammit, he’s right. But I want to wrap my hands around Garcia’s neck and fucking squeeze. I want to humiliate Ivy to the point that she willingly leaves this campus.

"She needs justice," he continued. "Not revenge. She needs to be the one to decide that, not you.”

"She's not in any condition to decide anything right now," I said, voice low.

"Then you wait, and let her heal. Give her the time to make a statement, and talk to the police. You can’t solve everyone's problems. The best thing you can do is be there for her. Let her know you aren’t leaving.”

I wanted to argue, but Dylan stepped forward, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"He's right, man. I hate it too, but he’s right.”

I looked at Dylan, then back at Coach. “Fine,” I said through gritted teeth.

We left his office a few minutes later, and I still wanted to punch something. I wasn’t satisfied with his response.

Dylan walked beside me as we stepped outside, silence hanging in the air, when we heard a voice behind us. "Well, well. Look who it is."

I froze.

I turned slowly, and there he was. Fucking Garcia. Standing near the edge of the parking lot, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face.

"Heard you've been looking for me," his voice dripped with the usual cockiness he had, and my hands clenched into fists.

Don’t do it, Kayden. Don’t fucking do it.

"Walk away, Garcia," Dylan said with a warning.

He laughed. "Why? So you can run back to your little girlfriend and tell her you defended her honor? She didn't seem to mind the attention earlier."

This motherfucker.

Jaw clenched, I kept moving towards the car, ignoring him like I promised Coach I would.

He laughed again, "Come on, man. You really think she's worth it? She was practically begging for it..." Where are the fucking cops when we need them?

Something snapped. I turned around, and lunged for him, my fist swinging for his face. Dylan grabbed me, arms wrapping around my chest to pull me back.

Fuck this asshole.

I broke free from Dylan's grip and charged at Garcia, my fist connecting with his jaw before he could finish the sentence. He stumbled back, his hand going to his face, and then he came at me, his fist aimed at my ribs.

I dodged, barely, and grabbed him by the collar, slamming him back against the wall. His head hit the brick with a dull thud, and I pulled my fist back, ready to hit him again.