Page 18 of Disobedient Pawn

Spotting my marker, I counted down until the two hand touch. As I pushed off the wall, there was a brief moment I didn’t want to resurface. I wanted to sit at the bottom of the pool and let everything above the water disappear as the quiet pressed in on me. But I never stayed. Instead, I pushed harder. Three, two, one. My hand slapped against the wall, and I looked up at the clock. Yes, I cheered in my head with my new personal best.

“Excellent work Nash. We still need to work on a few things, but for tomorrow’s competition, you’re looking the best you ever have. You all have a really good chance to come away with the win.” Coach Stevens clapped a hand on my shoulder and walked away.

Practice was done. There was nothing any of us could do now other than go over our race plans and make sure that we were ready for the weekend. Between Friday and Sunday, we would face a dozen other academies, and one of them was fucking Meadow Grove.

I’d been waiting since last year for this competition to finally get my revenge on Austin Rutherford, who’d taken the gold from me by a tenth of a second. I wasn’t allowed to be second to anyone. My father had made that very clear when I got home that night. He said he didn’t watch my races, that they weren’t worth wasting his time one, and yet…he knew exactly what happened.

All the big-name scouts were at that tournament as well as every television station. I watched that comp play everywhere I went for weeks after, and how I missed out by the tip of my finger. Everyone had gushed over Austin, saying he was the next Michael Phelps. It made me mad enough to kill.

With a push, I rose from the water as the rest of the guys walked over with smiles on their faces. “That was fast, man, you do that all weekend, and you’re gonna win for sure against all the other schools.”

I grabbed the towel that Liam held out and shrugged. “I only care about one school. The rest I could beat without trying.”

“True, but your fly is so much faster than last year,” Liam said as I pulled the cap off my head.

“The fly isn’t the problem. I know my times have been better than what Austin has posted this season, but the individual medley is still an issue. The backstroke is still my slowest split, and if I can just push a little faster, I’ll win the four-hundred for sure. I already know we have the relay covered. I’m aiming for all of us to have all gold.”

“That’s a huge goal, man,” Myles said.

“It is. You also better fucking know I want all you assholes to do the same.”

I’d always been competitive, but qualifying for the World’s and then onward to the Olympics was my dream. My father’s dream was for me to take over and run the family corporation. That was code for you need to take over as the King, which was just a fancy title for Mob Boss.

“Nash, we’re already way faster than last year,” Blake said, and I glared at him.

“If you don’t want to improve every time you’re out there, then maybe you don’t deserve to be on the team,” I snarled.

“Easy, Nash. Blake is only trying to help you feel better. No one is saying we don’t want to improve,” Theo chimed in, always the voice of reason.

I ground my teeth together but let it go. The guys were not who I was pissed with. My father was insisting that I sit in on the monthly board meeting.

I fixed my stare on Myles. “What the hell was up with you almost being late for practice?”

“Lacrosse practice started after school, first night is always the longest. Chill man, I made it and we will crush Meadow Grove.”

“I’m going to shower,” I said and walked away, knowing the other guys would follow.

“Ya gonna do an ice bath,” Myles asked as I flicked on the shower.

“Can’t. Stupid meeting remember? You better not forget to do what I need you to,” I said, making sure not to announce what exactly that was. You got good at saying shit without saying anything when your father was the head of the Irish Mob. My father had held power for as long as I’d been alive. Seventeen years and counting. Nowhere near as long as James Bulger or as the public knew him, Whitey, but it was still a long time, and my father had no intention of leaving the position anytime soon.

“I already got it covered and the best route to take. Ya don’t need to worry,” Myles said, stepping under the spray beside me.

“Are you sure about that,” I asked, pushing down my swim brief and rinsing some of the chlorine out before hanging it on the small hook.

“What do ya mean,” Myles asked. His eyes were closed, his head under the spray, so he didn’t see me raise an eyebrow at him.

“I saw you and Blake with that chick earlier. I also know how you tend to get distracted easily.”

“Oh, you mean Snowflake, fuck, she’s fine. Makes me want to rub one out right now, thinking about her feisty mouth wrapped around my cock. I think she might actually try to bite it off.” He shivered like a dog shaking off water. “Damn, that’s hot. I need to stop thinking about it, or I’ll say fuck Coach and do exactly that.”

“You know I don’t believe in that stupid rule right? And I’d ride your ass if I thought it would help.”

“Aye, I know, but I can’t lie to the Coach for shit. I always look like a nutter when he glares at me. It’s only one more comp. I can make it three days,” Myles said as Blake, Theo, and Liam walked in.

“Take what,” Blake asked.

“Not rubbing my cock out before Sunday night,” Myles answered. The sound of the spray and the smell of soap was strong as the heat rose and filled the shower area.