Personal Foul

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Personal Foul Page 22

by Hayley Faiman


  Turning my back on the field, I make my way to my truck and start the engine. I don’t go to the Keller’s residence right away, like I’d planned on doing. Instead, I make my way toward the bar in town. I need a fucking drink, just one, to take the edge off.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the bar, I look at the building and notice it’s an old wood-siding, square shack. There are busted, rusted pickups lining the dirt and rock parking lot, and I let out an exhale. Running my hand through my hair, I grip the steering wheel with my other hand, staying unmoving from my seat.

  My phone rings, and I reach for it, answering it immediately.

  “You find her?” John asks from the other end of the line.

  I’d told John about her missing, then when I finally found out where she was, I’d informed him about her leaving Lincoln. Then, I told him about Patrick’s report on the guys juicing and his unwillingness to do anything about it, along with the athletic department’s unwillingness to do anything about it.

  Needless to say, John’s been a little fucking worried that I was going to lose my shit here at any fucking minute. I don’t blame him. I’m on the edge.

  “I’m in Grant, sitting outside of a dive bar,” I state.

  John clears his throat before he speaks. “What is it with her? Is it because she’s young? Because if it’s just that, I’m sure you could find another young piece somewhere else, one without the drama.”

  I shake my head as though he can see me. “Jessa’s been through hell. She was abandoned by her mother and Trent’s family took her in, kept her out of foster care. I can’t imagine the loyalty she must feel toward them. Trent’s a piece of shit, though. He’s shoved that loyalty in her face and manipulated her into thinking that she owes him.”

  “I like her, Cole, and her story is sad, but she is so young, man. I think about Tiffany when we were first married and Tiffany now, it’s like night and day. I can’t imagine that Jessa will be much different. It’s been hard, growing up together, but I would imagine it’ll be harder with her growing up and you already matured.”

  I grip the phone tightly in my hand, trying not to get too pissed at his words. He doesn’t know her, and he doesn’t know how I feel about her.

  “She makes me better, and she makes me want to be better. Jessa is more mature than women my own age, John. She’s a fuck-load more mature than Brittany.”

  “All of that shit said, as your friend, I needed to at least say it. I like her and I like her for you. You’re different around her, grounded, and happy.”

  “I love her,” I admit.

  John grunts before he speaks. “Don’t be a fucking dick, then. Get out of that bar parking lot. Go get your woman. Pick her ass up, set her in your truck, and leave that fucking cesspool.”

  “Not a bad little town,” I chuckle as I start my engine and begin to back out of the bar’s parking lot.

  “Cole, it bred Keller. Get the hell out of there,” he deadpans. Unable to help myself, I laugh at his seriousness and his explanation. “You love her, and she loves you. Don’t let her make some fucked up decision based on her misplaced guilty conscious.”

  “Pulling onto her block right now,” I murmur.

  “Right. Get your girl, man,” he grunts as he ends the call.

  Killing my engine, I look at the beat up, older house. This is where my woman spent her teenage years. It’s not a bad house. It could use some patching up, new paint, new roof, new sod, and a million other little things, but I find myself just staring.

  Then I see movement on the top floor, a light shining from a window, and a shadow of someone walking around. It’s her, I can tell. I’d know her slim shadow anywhere. John’s right. It’s time to get my woman.

  Jogging up the walkway, I ring the bell before the rest of my body even reaches the porch. The door swings open a few minutes later, and I see Keller’s old man standing right in front of me. He’s in his mid-forties, not much older than me. Time’s been rough on the man, though. He’s got a bit of a gut, and his hairline is receding, but there’s no denying he’s Trent’s father.

  “You’re here for Jessa?” he asks without so much as a greeting.

  I nod and he opens the door a little wider, a silent invitation for me to come in. I take it, unsure of what truly awaits me on the other side. I know one thing is for certain—I’m not going to leave here without my woman.

  “Mr. Keller, it’s nice to meet you. Jessa’s told me a great deal about you and your wife. I was sorry to hear that she’s fallen ill,” I murmur, shoving one of my hands in my front pocket.

  A noise coming from the kitchen forces my body to jerk, and I watch as Trent walks into the living area. His eyes find mine and he freezes in his spot. “What in the fuck is he doing here?” he growls.

  “Now son, this is Jessa’s man, and your coach. You’ll respect him in my home,” Mr. Keller states.

  “Fuck that and fuck him,” Trent bellows. “He stole my girl, fucked her for weeks behind my back. My fucking girl, mine. Jessa is mine, and nobody else’s. I say what she does, where she goes, and who she fucks, nobody else,” he shouts. I watch Jim’s body slowly turn away from me to face his son.

  “Excuse me, I must have misheard you, son. You say who she fucks?” Jim says, his voice low and lethal.

  Just then, I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and I watch as Jessa slowly makes her way down the stairs, her eyes directed on me and only me. If she’s heard what Trent just said, she doesn’t show it on her face. In fact, she only has eyes for me.

  “You heard me, old man. I’m in charge of Jessa and her pussy, and I say what dick slides inside. This fucker isn’t allowed,” Trent announces.

  I hear Jessa gasp and her step falters. “Go get your shit, baby,” I state, ignoring Trent’s outburst.

  Jessa doesn’t move. I lift my chin to her and she nods before she turns around and hurries up the staircase.

  “Now that she’s gone, you listen here, you little shit. You ever talk to Jessa again, look at her or even think about her again, and I’ll fucking gut you. I’m sick of your shit, Keller. Jessa isn’t yours, she’s mine, and she fucks nobody but her man—me.”

  Jim’s body tenses next to me when I mention how she fucks me, but I don’t care. My only focus is Trent—juiced up, unpredictable Trent Keller. He makes a step toward me, and I square my shoulders just as I feel Jessa’s cool touch on my hand.

  “I’m ready,” she whispers.

  “Now, let’s all sit down and talk. This has been a trying day,” Jim says. I glance at him.

  He looks fucking beat. I’m sure this is the last thing he wants to deal with as his wife lays in a hospital bed, but I can’t leave Jessa here with Trent all night. I refuse.

  Trent rushes us, pushing his father to the ground with his arm and dipping slightly to shove his shoulder into my belly as he forces my back against the closed front door.

  Taken by surprise, I grunt at the shock of what’s just happened. I don’t stay frozen in surprise long. I punch him in the kidneys a few times before he releases me, then I push off of the door and punch him square in the jaw.

  “Fuck,” he grunts before he comes after me again.

  He’s on that shit, feeling no pain, and this won’t end until one of us is dead. I’ve seen it all before. Before my career is over, I’ll see it all again. He’s out of fucking control.

  “Stop,” Jessa screams.

  It does no good.

  Keller and I are all fists and grunts, sweat and cries of pain as we pummel the piss out of each other. We only stop when there’s a racket of a shot gun. I look up, my fist mid-air and directed at Keller’s nose as Jim walks toward us, a look of fury on his face.

  “You don’t own, Jessa, Trent. You never did, and I’m surprised she stayed at your side as long as she did. You’ve used her, plain and simple. She found a man she likes, and from what I can tell, he likes her, too. She isn’t your plaything. She’s a sweet girl who wouldn’t agree to that shit
you spewed—which means you were planning on forcing her or coercing her, which is the same fucking thing in my opinion.”

  “Dad…” Trent starts.

  “Shove it. You’re a cocky little shit who should have been put in his place when he was a kid. Your momma coddled you. Not anymore. You’re gonna let Jessa and her man go. You’re not going to bother them again, and for all that is holy son, you’re going to let Jessa have her slice of goddamn happiness. I think the girl deserves that much, at least.”

  Trent doesn’t say a word. He spits some blood on the carpeting, showing just how much he respects his parents, and places his hands on his hips as his eyes narrow on mine. This shit isn’t over, but for tonight it sure as fuck is.

  “C’mon, baby,” I rasp.

  Jessa walks over to my side, still in her pajamas, her purse and a stack of clothes in her hand. Before she reaches me, she stops at Jim’s side.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Should have done it years ago, honey,” he mutters. “Now, go.”

  Jessa kisses his cheek before she makes her way to me. I sling my arm over her shoulders, and slowly, me with a body that is going to be hurting for weeks, we make our way to my truck. Silently, Jessa climbs inside, and I do the same—except, I’m not as quiet, grunting with each move of my body.

  I don’t go back to Lincoln. Instead, I find a hotel in the next town over. Jessa needs to see Margie tomorrow, and I can’t sit in this fucking truck a bloody, sore, mess for four hours. Tonight, we sleep.

  JESSA

  THE CHEAP HOTEL room door slams closed and my body jumps. I don’t face him, too scared to see the look in his eyes. I’m sure he’s completely disgusted with me, pissed off, and rethinking his choice of falling for an eighteen-year-old, white trash orphan. I’m all of these things, and now he’s beat up and bleeding because of me.

  “You planning on turning around, or are you going to ignore me?” he asks, breaking the silence between us.

  I spin around and my eyes widen as I look at him, really look at him. The lights are on, so I can see every part of his face that’s starting to swell, and every drop of blood that’s covering his skin and clothes. Most of it is Trent’s, but there is some of his own coming from the corner of his mouth. I lift my hand over my own mouth in an effort to cover my gasp, but it doesn’t work. The room is completely silent, so my gasp sounds like it’s echoing.

  “Looks that bad?” he asks, arching a brow.

  My feet are smarter than my brain and they take me straight to him; my lips are smarter, because they reach for the underside of his jaw, skimming it before his hands wrap around my waist.

  “I’m so stupid. I panicked,” I whisper, looking up into his face, a face that’s starting to purple and swell.

  He grunts as one of his hands lowers, and his fingers squeeze my ass. “You fucked up,” he whispers. “Baby, you have an emergency, you call your man. You do not run off to a town four goddamn hours away, especially with a prick like Trent,” he growls.

  My eyes fill with tears and my lips tremble as I press my palms against his chest. “I wasn’t thinking. I only knew I had to get there,” I whimper.

  “I know,” he breathes.

  Then he isn’t just breathing and whispering in front of me. Cole picks me up, one hand on my ass, the other wrapping around my waist, and he walks me backward until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress. His lips touch mine with a hiss, but he doesn’t stop our kiss. He slips his tongue inside of my mouth, tasting me and causing me to moan.

  I slide my hands under his shirt, touching the sides of his waist until I have them wrapped around his back, roaming his warm skin. He lifts his head, and I watch in fascination as he brings up one of his arms, grabbing hold of his shirt between his shoulder blades and tugging it off. Licking my lips, I think to myself that he must be the sexiest man to walk the earth. I don’t know how he’s chosen me.

  “Take this shit off,” he grunts, tugging on the hem of my old, ratty tank top.

  Quickly, I strip bare, knowing that’s how he likes me, my man—my Cole. His lips twitch in a grin as I climb onto the middle of the bed, on my knees, uncaring that the cheap comforter is beneath me. I lean forward and rest on my elbows, my lips right in line with his jeans.

  Tugging on the button of his jeans, I quickly shove them and his boxers down. “Baby,” he rasps, sliding his hand though the side of my hair.

  Looking up at him through my lashes, I shake my head before I lick the tip of his cock. Swirling my tongue around him, I decide not to play. I suck him deep and moan when he lets out his own groan as his fingers tighten in my hair.

  “Touch your pussy baby, let me watch,” he rasps.

  Without a thought, I reach between my legs to give him exactly what he wants. He deserves it, just as much as I don’t deserve him here with me, not now and not ever. He deserves everything, and I’m nothing.

  I whimper as he starts to thrust down my throat, filling my mouth with his cock as two of my fingers fill my pussy, curling inside of myself just like his do. “Goddamn, baby, you feel so fucking good,” he growls.

  Looking up at him, knowing he’s close and wanting to watch him come, I move my fingers faster, removing them from inside of me to rub circles around my clit. My hips buck as his jerk without rhythm, and then he steps back from me. His hand is still in my hair, keeping me from toppling over the side of the bed.

  “Turn around,” he demands.

  I do as he asks, spreading my thighs and turning around, assuredly knowing he doesn’t want to see my face. The face of the stupid girl he had to come and rescue. The immature fool. Cole wraps his arm around my chest and pulls my body up, so that only my knees are on the bed, and then he surges up inside of me.

  “Cole,” I gasp.

  His mouth is at my neck, licking and sucking as he slowly fucks me. I wrap my arm around the back of his neck and hold onto the short strands of his hair as I rest my head against his shoulder.

  My breathing is short, and I’m panting against his skin. When his other hand slips across my hip and his fingers touch my already aching clit, my entire body trembles.

  “Come for me, sweet baby,” he rasps against the spot where my neck and shoulder meet.

  My hips automatically jerk, my ass presses against him, searching for more, until my entire body stiffens and I let out a cry as I come—hard.

  “Goddamn, yes, Jessa. Squeeze my cock with that tight cunt,” he growls.

  His hand moves from between my legs to wrap around my hair, and he pushes me forward slightly, but not enough for me to brace my hands against the bed.

  I cry out again when he starts to fuck me, harder than he ever has before. The room fills with nothing but his grunts and the sounds of his body slamming into mine.

  I close my eyes tightly, feeling that overly sensitive feeling from my recent orgasm take over, and then it’s gone. Replacing it is another orgasm building. Cole’s hand across my chest moves and he grabs my breast, his fingers tugging and pulling on my nipple, causing my belly to clench.

  “You going to come for me again, baby?’ he whispers as he continues to fuck me, furiously.

  I can’t speak, I only whine and then pant when his other hand moves to my clit again. He starts to rub me firmly and with purpose, his sole mission, to bring me to climax and quickly. My body starts to shake, and I feel as though I lose all ability to hold myself up. I become completely boneless as I come.

  The only thing holding me up is Cole’s arms wrapped around me, and then the room fills with his own shout as his release fills me.

  We stay exactly where we are for a few breaths before he pulls out of me, gently. Then he lays me down on my stomach. He lies next to me on his back and tugs me against his side. I’m plastered to him, my leg thrown over his and my wet pussy pressed against his thigh, uncaring of whatever mess I’m leaving.

  “Are you breaking up with me? Was that breakup sex?” I ask nervously. I stare at the patch
of hair on his chest, feeling it against my cheek and wondering if it’s going to be for the last time.

  “Jessa,” he grunts, his hand fisting in my hair and tugging my head back, forcing my neck to arch as his pale green eyes look into mine. “You’re not going anywhere, neither am I. You’re still mine, nothing’s changed.”

  “But I messed up,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes.

  Cole watches me for a second, and then his head falls back against the mattress and he lets out a laugh, a good, long laugh. I stare at him, shocked for a minute. Then I decide it pisses me off that he’s laughing at me. I climb up on him, straddling his hips, and press my hands against his chest.

  “Stop laughing at me,” I snap.

  His hands immediately wrap around my hips, and he gives me a squeeze as his smiling green eyes meet mine.

  “I’m laughing at you, baby, because you’re fucking crazy,” he states, trying to keep from laughing even more. His eyes give him away completely. “We aren’t breaking up. Now, you pull this shit again, we’re going to have words; but Jessa, I understand why you did what you did.”

  “Yeah?” I breathe, looking down at him.

  His hands slide up my sides before they skim my back. One wraps around the nape of my neck, tugging me down so that I’m closer to his face.

  “Yeah, baby. You were in a panic, you weren’t thinking, and I get it. But from now on, I’m your man, and you need to make sure I know where you are. Scared me, sweet baby,” he admits.

  I feel like a bitch—a selfish bitch. The last thing I ever want to be is selfish. I don’t want to be the Trent in our relationship.

  I press my lips to his, “I’m so, so, sorry, Cole,” I whisper.

  He grins. “I know you are, because you’re sweet and you’d never purposely do something to cause me worry, or knowingly put yourself in a dangerous situation.” My entire body heats as he pulls in a breath through his nose. Then he says something that hits me at my core, something that proves there is a definite reason I’ve fallen in love with this man.

 

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