The End Game

by Kate McCarthy

“Fine. Just tired.”

  “Good.” Coach nods. He knows he’s been pushing us beyond hard. For him our fatigue is a badge of honor. “You’re on curfew. Get home.”

  My phone buzzes as I pull out of the parking lot. I ignore it. My calls and messages of late are all junk: sponsors wanting to talk brands, agents providing unsolicited advice on my future career in the NFL. It should get me excited, but I don’t have time to appreciate the position I’m in right now, nor sit back and appreciate how far I’ve come. All I can do is focus on each day as it comes, and maybe, hopefully, I’ll come out unscathed on the other side.

  After packing a bag, I take one more pill before shoving the bottle inside it, hiding it beneath a pile of gym gear. Done, I head back to my car, tugging my phone out as I jog down the stairwell to let Jordan know I’m on my way.

  A message from Jax sits on the screen. It lists the address of a frat house well-known for it’s back-to-back to parties.

  Jax: Dude. You need to get here, pronto.

  I shake my head, not bothering to reply. Instead I turn my phone on silent. My cousin knows I’m on curfew. He also knows I’m back with Jordan, so why would I want to be partying the night before a big game?

  Beeping the locks, I open the passenger door of my SUV and dump my bag. My phone vibrates with another message as I walk around the front to the driver’s side.

  Cursing under my breath, I check the screen, my brow furrowing. Jax again, sending a photo. Keys jangling in my hand, I pause by the door and flick it open. My eyes strain, making out the dark figures. The moment I realize what I’m seeing, my heart begins to pound a furious beat, slamming so hard against my ribcage it hurts.

  I reach breakneck speed getting to the party, taking corners too fast, tires squealing. Leaving my car double-parked, I make my way inside, silently fuming. I move through partygoers, guys giving me backslaps left and right, hitting me with advice on how they think I can improve my game. I dodge them all as I search for my cousin.

  When my eyes find Jax, he’s leaving the kitchen for the backyard, Damien right behind him. I shout his name, pushing through people to reach him. He turns, relief lighting his face like neon when he sees me. It only ties my stomach in tighter knots.

  “Where is she?” I ask when I get close, my voice harsh.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. They both disappeared.”

  They.

  My stomach churns. The image of her and Kyle, heads bent close together, so intimate, is burned on my brain. The faint smile on her face is soft and tempting, and one that should be meant only for me.

  Jordan

  After checking two previous parties, I find Kyle at the third one, drunk off his face.

  Good. This is going to be a walk in the park.

  Angling myself in his line of sight, I wait for him to notice me. He does. His eyes lift and scan the room, doing a double-take and coming back to me. He looks around, seeking out Brody. When he doesn’t see him, his eyes shift back to me with purpose, and he makes his way toward me. I knew he would. Any opportunity to get me onside and piss off Brody is one he’s going to take.

  “Jordan,” he says, reaching my side. I force a smile to my lips. “You’re off leash tonight I see.”

  Har, har, you tool.

  Knowing I need to keep this believable, I roll my eyes. It would rouse suspicion if I suddenly began fawning over whatever it is he thinks makes him so much better than everyone else.

  “Drink?”

  I shrug. “Sure, okay.”

  Kyle tips his head toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”

  After handing me a cup of beer, he grins, swaying slightly. “So where’s Brody tonight? Is he sitting at home waiting for you, or did you finally see the light and ditch the dumb fuck?”

  Oh, I am going to nail your goddamn ass to the wall.

  “We’re on a break.”

  Kyle’s brows rise as he leans back against the counter behind him, using it to prop him upright. “Well, I sure am sorry to hear that,” he replies, his expression telling me he’s anything but.

  I cast my eyes down because I can’t stand looking at him. Not that he notices. With Kyle drunk, it’s easy to engage him in meaningless conversation, slowly drawing it around to the teacher aide work he does with Professor Draper. A subtle ego stroke never hurts. “The professor’s a busy man. You must do a lot of hard work for him.”

  “I do.” Kyle cocks his head. “Hey, I have to use the bathroom.” His eyes scan the room slowly. “It’s a bit wild in here tonight. Come with me?” He winks. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  In hindsight, it’s the exact moment the player became the played, but my mind doesn’t register anything except what I came to do. All I want is to catch Kyle in his web of deceit and fix the grade he sabotaged. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Setting my empty cup on the bench, I follow him up the stairs. Knowing I might not get another chance, I use it to hit the record button on my phone before tucking it back in the pocket of my skirt. The bathrooms have queues, so I think nothing of it when I’m led to the third floor. He opens the door and I step inside, halting when I realize it’s a study and not a bathroom.

  I spin around as Kyle shuts the door behind us. His smile is slow and lazy. It sets my heart thumping with rapid beats of apprehension. “What are you playing at, Jordan?”

  God I must suck at this. Show no fear, I command myself.

  “Playing at?” I cock a brow coolly, folding my arms. “What are you playing at, Kyle?”

  “It’s not what I’m playing at, but who. And it’s Brody, babe. Who else?”

  Annoyance rips through me and I shake my head. “Why?”

  Kyle takes a step toward me, eyes glinting. I stand my ground, forcing myself not to take a step back. “Did you know Brody and I go way back? We went to primary school together. We even ended up in the same peewee league. And even then he was always so damn entitled. In that big fancy house with his mom and dad, his nice clothes, always wearing the best of everything. Nothing secondhand for him, only high-end brand-named football equipment would ever do.” He takes another step. “As if that wasn’t enough, his coach, and all his teachers, gave him a free ride through school while I had to work my ass off. Bumping up grades faster then a fat kid eats candy. No doubt getting paid off. You know what that made me?”

  Kyle is right in my face now, a smile on his lips. Hate and bitterness ooze from it like black tar, raising the hair on the back of my neck.

  I glare, my voice a scathing attack. “A resentful, jealous little dick?”

  He chuckles. “Pretty much, but who cares?” Kyle’s expression is modest when he shrugs. “I’m just the guy making sure Brody gets what he deserves, or in this case, doesn’t deserve.”

  “And he didn’t deserve to pass the midterm?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? What a coup, earning that teacher’s aide position for the same course Brody’s taking. I couldn’t let an opportunity slip by to fuck with his grade.”

  My heart pounds so hard I fear I can hear it. “You fudged his answers?”

  He shrugs. “Honestly? I would have. Sadly, I didn’t need to do a single thing. Brody failed all by himself.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Kyle laughs. “Come on, Jordan. I wouldn’t lie to you.” He leans down, putting his face right near mine. “I like you.”

  “Well I don’t like you.”

  This whole idea of mine is a complete bust. My bicep is grabbed when I brush past.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my upper arm and I cry out, trying to yank free. Kyle twists the arm around behind my back. White spots dance behind my eyelids, the pain so excruciating my voice fails. I’m spun around, my feet tripping over each other as he shoves me face first into the couch.

  “I think hanging around dumb assholes has rubbed off on you.” He grabs my other arm, clamping them both together behind my back, leaving me incapacitated. His han
ds begin roving over my skirt. Patting at my pockets, he reaches inside and grabs my phone. He checks the screen, hitting the stop button before tossing it away. It hits the floor and skates across the sleek timber, out of reach. “I’m a bit smarter than the average guy, in case you haven’t noticed. And yes, I did fuck with his grade.” He smirks. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Fuck you!” I shriek, panting and trying to kick out with my legs.

  Kyle grunts when I catch his shin, but the effect is that of a pesky mosquito and does nothing. His hand slides up my leg and underneath my skirt, grabbing at my panties. “Get off me you sick fuck!”

  Brody

  Damien shrugs at me. “Maybe they went upstairs.”

  His offhand comment has my hands curling into fists.

  Jax elbows him sharp in his side. “Ow!”

  “You’re an asshole,” my cousin adds.

  “What? Why?” Damien shrugs again and downs the remains of his beer. Tossing the empty cup in the direction of a big open bin nearby, he smirks. “Maybe they did.”

  Jax and I share a mutual glance. Judging by his unhappy expression, he suspects Damien could be right. Not saying a word, I turn and make for the stairs at the back of the house, taking them two at a time. They’re both behind me when I reach the second level, stalking down hallways and shoving open doors. I’m panicked by the time I reach the third and top level of the house without finding either of them. I’m reaching for the handle of the second door when I hear a loud sob and Jordan shout, “Get off me you sick fuck!”

  Heart in my throat, I shove the door open. Kyle has Jordan pinned against a couch, her skirt pushed up around her hips and a hand in her panties. Her face is mashed sideways into the cushion, but she’s squirming hard and manages to get an arm loose and elbow him in the gut.

  “You bitch!” he snarls and rounds a hard open palm to the side of her face, the sound a loud crack in the small room.

  Burning rage blinds me. Its onset is so swift and hard it overtakes my body completely. I barely register what I’m doing when I pick Kyle up and throw him across the room. The sound of his body slamming into the wall fuels my anger. He hits the ground with a grunt and rolls on to his hands and knees.

  Reaching Kyle’s side, I kick him hard in the gut. He cries out and drops instantly, rolling to his back and gasping for air. It’s not enough. I want to fucking kill him for putting his hands on Jordan. Without another thought, I’m on him. Straddling his body, I smash a fist in his face, my knuckles burning from the impact. It’s a good burn. I want more of it. I want motherfucking blood.

  We lock in a furious struggle and my elbow cracks him in the eye. He falls back with a howl, disoriented and weakened. Not giving him anytime to recover, my fist smashes him in the face again. The bones in his nose crunch beneath the impact and blood spurts hot and wet, oozing down his face in a river of red and covering both of us.

  Jordan says something, but I can’t hear it over Kyle’s loud groans. He locks his legs around me and twists, shoving me sideways onto the floor. My head hits the timber boards. It leaves me dizzy for a moment, and I miss seeing the roundhouse punch Kyle aims. It lands on my jaw and my gut twists with pain. Motherfucker.

  “Brody!” Jordan cries out.

  But I don’t hear anything. All I see is that snake in the grass with his hands on my girl. My eyes fly open, landing on Kyle. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” I slur.

  I roll and take him back down. My fists pummel hard, hitting anywhere and everywhere I can reach. I’m in a zone of bloodlust and there’s no breaking free of it. Loud shouts come from behind me. I don’t know how many hands grab hold, dragging me off Kyle’s prone form.

  “You sonofabitch!” I yell, my voice hoarse and chest heaving with rage as they hold me back. “Why? What did I ever do to you?”

  Kyle groans, struggling to move. No one offers to help him.

  Suddenly Jordan is right there and whoever has hold of me lets go. My jaw locks and my eyes burn as I take her in. Her makeup is smeared and her hair’s tangled. Her right cheekbone is bruised and beginning to swell, and the beautiful light in her eyes is just … gone.

  “Jordan,” I croak, my heart cracking into a thousand pieces. I don’t know what to do, how to fix what Kyle did, and put everything back the way it was. The arms I wrap around her feel weak and useless. She buries her face in my neck, hot tears plopping thick and fast on my skin. “Are you okay?”

  Unable to speak, Jordan simply nods as I stroke a trembling hand over the back of her head.

  “Did he touch you?”

  “He … He …” Jordan licks her lips and swallows, her fingers clutching at my shirt like she’s drowning. “He grabbed my panties. All he managed was to rip them aside and then you were there.”

  My arms on her tighten. A minute later and god knows what could’ve happened. “I told you to stay away from that asshole, Jordan. Why were you with him?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s all my fault. But he messed with your grade, Brody.”

  “He what?”

  She draws back and looks me in the eye. “The midterm. I knew it. All I needed was for him to admit it. I tried to record it on my phone. God, I thought it was a great plan but he knew. Somehow he knew.”

  A sick feeling lodges in my gut. My eyes fall to where Kyle’s trying to pick himself up off the floor. His hand slips in blood as he rolls onto his hands and knees.

  Brody

  “Get her out of here, Madden,” Jax says.

  I look from him back to Kyle. His face is a mess. I did that. Satisfaction and shock both hit me at once. I’ve punched a few guys in my life, but nothing so violent as this, and never over anything more than a bit of bullshit. This is a full-blown assault. Kyle didn’t stand a chance. I’ve always been bigger than him. Faster. Stronger. But he deserved it and then some. Jesus fucking Christ, who cares about the grade, his hands were touching her.

  I want to rip into him all over again, but Jordan has hold of my shirt, her teeth beginning to chatter. She needs somewhere safe and familiar. Jax is right. I need to get her home.

  “We’ll take care of this,” he adds.

  We share a quick glance, my gratitude deeper than the damn ocean. I nod and croak, “Thanks, bud.”

  We leave out the back way and walk around the house where my car is still double-parked out front. The drive back to Jordan’s apartment is quiet. My right hand rests on her thigh, reassuring her I’m right here. Jordan does nothing more than glance at it before returning her gaze out the window. She’s a zombie right now, and I don’t know what to say or do to bring her back to life. My heart aches. My knuckles ache. Every part of me motherfucking aches.

  “I’m okay,” she says into the unforgiving silence. Her eyes are still trained on the dark scenery passing us by, so she must be feeling my constant, worried glances.

  “No. You’re not.”

  Jordan lets out a low, shaky breath. “I am.”

  “It’s not your fault, baby.”

  She presses her lips together.

  “I don’t care about what he did. I’ll make up the grade. Kyle Davis has always been a thorn in my side. I’m used to it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to be used to it!”

  I shift my hold on her thigh and take her hand in mine. It’s cold. I give it a squeeze. “I’ve never had anyone fight in my corner the way you do.” I bring her hand to my lips, giving it a kiss. She looks across at me. “Granted, I do not like the way you went about it, but thank you all the same.”

  A tear spills over and tracks down her cheek. She wipes it away with her free hand. “I’ll always fight in your corner, Brody.”

  When we get inside her apartment, Hayden and Leah are snuggled on the couch. An action movie is playing out on the television and they’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn. Both their heads turn in our direction.

  Leah frowns, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Where’ve you be—”

  Jorda
n pastes an overly bright smile on her face and cuts her off, pulling free of my hold. “Just going to have a quick shower.”

  Leah’s gaze cuts to me, her eyes narrowing further as Jordan makes straight for the bathroom. I shake my head, silently telling her to let it go.

  When I follow behind Jordan, she shuts the door in my face, calling out, “I won’t be a minute.”

  Shit.

  I rap on the door. “Jordan.”

  “I won’t be a minute,” she says, her voice a little harder, and I hear the lock click in place.

  I turn around. Leah and Hayden are both watching me. Leah grabs for the remote off the coffee table and hits pause on the movie. Setting it back down, she hands over the bowl of popcorn to Hayden. He grabs it with a monkey grip, his expression gleeful. With his giant paw of a hand, he shoves in a huge mouthful while Leah gives me her full attention. “What the hell, Madden?”

  “Babe,” Hayden mutters, popcorn falling out of his mouth and littering his shirt. He picks up the fallen pieces and shoves them back in as he speaks. “Don’t get involved in their domestic. It’s none of our business.”

  “Jordan isn’t feeling well,” I tell them.

  Leah’s expression turns a little alarmed at the mention of illness. “What happened?”

  Hayden gives me a sympathetic shrug. “Dude.” He holds the bowl out toward me. “Popcorn?”

  “No,” I tell him, not moving from the door. “Thanks.”

  Hayden kicks his feet up on the coffee table, shoveling in another mouthful for himself. “So. Big game in a few days, huh?”

  Big game is an understatement. It’s the National Championship game against Kansas State. Win this and it will be the first time CPU has ever won a conference title in two straight years. It’s the biggest game of my life, and I can’t even think about it right now. “Yeah.”

  “At least it’s not far to go.”

  The game is being played in Waco, Texas. It’s a short bus ride, but we arrive days earlier. Our team has media to deal with, press conferences, a fan meet-and-greet, breakfast functions and dinner functions, and god knows what else. “No, not far. What about—”