by Harlow Layne
“This is going to get ugly, and I have no idea if it’s going to go in our favor or not.” Oz’s entire face was one of worry as he stood there fidgeting. This wasn’t my friend. He rarely let anything bother him, and if this did, I knew I needed to keep on my guard about it.
“We’ll make it go in our favor. How can it not? I don’t give a shit if they are the most powerful fraternity on campus. Once word gets out what they did, what they might try to do to any unsuspecting person who attends their parties or, hell, even be in their presence, they’ll go down, and we’ll be right there to make sure of it,” I growled the last.
“Bro,” Oz shook his head. “We’ve talked about this. We can’t afford to get into trouble here. Our parents can’t get us out of trouble like in Santa Lucia.”
“With enough money, you can always get out of trouble,” I gritted out while Oz looked at me like I was living in a fantasy world, which I was if I thought there was a chance in hell my dad would be willing to pay. Being in Willow Bay, we were far enough away that word wouldn’t travel to our hometown. The only way my old man would help me was if there was any chance word would get back to the people he cared about most and their opinions about him.
Oz looked down the hall and then back to me before he said under his breath. “We’ve got to be smart about what we do and make sure it can’t be traced back to us.”
Agreed.
“I won’t make any rash decisions,” I lied. I couldn’t promise anything.
“Do you think I should go check on him and see if he needs anything? He could barely make it up the stairs.”
“Nah, I’ll check in on him before I hit my room.” I moved to head up the rest of the way when Oz’s hand on my arm stopped me. I glared down at his hand before I shrugged it off.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Fin.” He stood a little taller. “Just be nice.”
I raised a brow at that. “Haven’t I been?”
“Surprisingly yes, but fuck man,” Oz looked over my shoulder and then looked me in the eyes. “He’s fragile right now, and one wrong word from you could crumble him.”
Stepping up, I bumped my chest into his and knocked him back a step. “You don’t need to tell me. I was there every step of the way.”
“I know. I know.” He held his hands up in surrender. “Would it kill you to be friends with him?”
“It might,” I grumbled as I took a step back. Turning on my heel, I made my way upstairs. I almost skipped stopping by West’s room, but Oz’s fucking voice wouldn’t get out of my head.
Knocking on his door that was left slightly open, I hesitated only a moment before I barged in. Even after all he’d been through last night and today, West still kept his door open to the guys.
He was slipping off his bed to greet whoever had knocked on his door but halted when he saw me standing there. I couldn’t help but let my gaze ping pong around his room. It was similar to mine, yet West had put touches of home all around. There were picture frames of him with his mom and a younger boy who looked almost identical to him at different stages throughout the years. He had football posters on one wall and a candle on his desk that was lit.
Tired eyes looked up at me, and West let out a weary sigh. “What do you want, Fin?”
Leaning against the door frame, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Believe it or not, but I came to check to see if you need anything before I crash for a couple of hours.”
“I…” West gaped at me before he cleared his throat. “I’m good or as good as a person can be when they find out a group of guys drugged him and tried to get him to have sex with some… girl and then beat the shit out of him because he couldn’t. And then the person who hates him the most in this world saves him. I should be… no, I am grateful. Thank you for last night and today. It could have been so much worse.”
“Well, don’t let it happen again because I won’t be there to save you.” Grabbing his door handle, I slammed the door closed on my way out.
As I stormed to my own room, Maverick cracked his door and peeked out. His long hair that was usually up in some stupid man bun was down and looked like he’d had some girl’s hands running through it all night. “Everything alright?”
“Mind your own fucking business, Maverick.” I gave a little extra emphasis on the last syllable of his name because I thought it was a stupid fucking name. Were his parents Top Gun fanatics or something?
His eyes widened for a moment before he shut the door. I could hear his feet scurry across the hardwood floors until I was at my own door. Throwing open my door, I proceeded to slam it and then threw myself on my bed. One thing I’d done to my room since I’d moved in was I had black-out curtains installed so I could sleep day or night. There was nothing worse than coming home from a grueling practice with the bright ass sun shining through my windows to keep me awake.
Pulling my blanket up, I closed my eyes and snapped them open immediately when the only thing I saw was West on the floor of that fucking frat room. The bruises and the vacant look in his eye were burned into my brain. Every time I thought about it or the images flashed through my head, I wanted to rage on Alpha Mu and West.
Logically, I knew there was no reason to be mad at West, but I couldn’t help myself. I hated the way he made me feel, and after this incident, my feelings for him were even more jumbled.
I couldn’t afford a distraction, and now I was afraid West would be more on my mind than ever. If he thought we were friends now, he was sorely mistaken. There could never be a time when we were anything but enemies.
Sometimes I let myself daydream about what life would be like if I gave into my desires, but I always shut them down. People in my world weren’t gay, or bi, or whatever the hell I was. At this point, I didn’t know what I was. I used women to fulfill my needs, but I wasn’t attracted to them. The problem was, I also wasn’t aroused by men. The only person on the planet who seemed to do it for me was the man who laid battered and bruised down the hall.
The only thing I knew was I hated myself for the way my heart beat a staccato rhythm in my chest cavity every time he was near. My dick turned to steel, and when I thought of him as I jerked myself off, I came harder than any other time.
It wasn’t only that the object of my desire was male. No, that was bad enough, but the icing on the cake was also because West came from nothing, and people in my family didn’t marry into nothing. Not that I planned to marry him. No, that wasn’t in the cards for me. Now or ever.
Even as my thoughts made my anger soar, my eyelids slowly started to droop. The little sleep I got in the uncomfortable recliner last night could no longer keep me awake.
That night, I dreamed of a life that was so far out of my reach, it made me more bitter than ever when I woke up the next morning.
14
West
Coach Kyle stood in front of us with his hands on his hips with a deep scowl on his handsome face. I have to admit there were days where it was hard to pay attention to him when he looked like Taylor Kitsch. Today wasn’t one of those days. Even from five feet away, I could feel the anger rolling off him. “Whose bright idea was it to attend an Alpha Mu party Friday night?”
He started to pace in front of us, and every few seconds, Coach would turn his angry scowl on some unsuspecting person. Ridley, who was one of the biggest players and could easily lay anyone out if he wanted, shrank back as Coach’s gaze landed on him.
“It wasn’t mine, Boss,” he stammered out. When Coach continued to drill him with a murderous glower, Ridley sat up straighter on the bench and muttered out. “We were told it was cleared by you.”
“Well, it fucking wasn’t cleared by me. Why on God’s green Earth would I say you could go to a party when from day one I’ve said they were off-limits? I said I would not have anyone coming to make sure you were in by my set curfew because I thought I could trust you. Obviously, I was wrong. One fucking night and one of your teammates gets drugged and assaulted. Where were you to help y
our brother out?”
“Coach, if we would have known, we would have helped—”
“You should have prevented it,” Coach yelled. His face turned an ugly shade of red. Each syllable bounced off the cinderblock walls of the locker room.
With each word, I wanted to hide even more. I had debated on whether or not I should show up to practice, but Coach hadn’t said I was free to stay home, so I dragged my ass to the locker room, knowing I couldn’t practice this week. My ribs weren’t broken, but they were bruised. I was advised to take at least two weeks off, but since I was, according to Coach, the team’s best wide receiver, he said he’d have me examined weekly and assessed for that week’s practice and gameplay.
“Get your asses up,” he yelled, and the entire team jumped to their feet. “I want you all out on the field. First, I want you to do fifty forties, and then five miles around the track.”
Everyone groaned, including me. I was glad I didn’t have to endure that torture.
“Jackson,” he stopped me as I walked by, “you will be clocking their speeds and writing them down.”
“Yes, Coach,” I answered as I took the stopwatch and clipboard from one of the assistant coaches. With each passing step, my teammates glared and swore at me under their breath—all except the four that helped me on Friday night. Fin was his usual moody ass self with me, but I didn’t think it had anything to do with their penance for Friday night. Ever since he left my room Saturday, Fin had been extra frosty toward me, but yesterday I caught him looking at me when he thought no one was looking with an unnamed emotion reflected in his black eyes.
Fin passed by, tying the long strands of his hair on the top of his head with a deep frown, ruining his usually striking face. I didn’t bother to acknowledge it since I knew I’d likely only get something vile spat at me.
Practice was slow for me as I wrote down everyone’s times but grueling for everyone else out on the field. There were a few guys off in the grass throwing up and many lying in various places with their arms over their faces and their chests heaving with exhaustion. If I wasn’t already beaten up, I was sure they would have all kicked my ass after how tough it was.
“Jackson,” Coached barked out. When I got closer, he softened his tone to the point where only I could hear him. He handed me a slip of paper. “Tonight, I want you to come to my house for dinner.”
Tilting my head to the side, I eyed him. Not that I thought he was lying, but because I was so surprised by his request. “Really?”
“Yes, I want to discuss things that are best suited away from the team. I expect you there promptly at seven.”
“Yes, Coach,” I replied as I slowly walked away. Why the hell did he want me to come to see him at his home?
Two hours later, I’d showered and picked apart my wardrobe, trying to decide on the perfect outfit, only to end up wearing my best pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt. The entire drive over, my fingers tapped the steering wheel of my truck nervously. On Saturday, when Coach showed up to the clinic and then went with me and the guys to the Dean’s office, he was understandably mad but not at me. Now though, I wasn’t so sure. Was he going to kick me off the team now that he knew I was gay? Did he think I was going to be nothing but trouble and didn’t want to waste his time with me?
My jaw hung open as I pulled up to the house the GPS on my phone led me to. It wasn’t the house I expected. This home was owned by someone who had millions to spend. I should have known going by all the other houses I passed as I drove, but nothing prepared me for this. It wasn’t your typical house in this area that was stucco or Mediterranean style. There were windows along all the walls, and it was nestled back off the road with trees all around it.
As I walked down the stone pathway and caught sight of the light green water of a pool, I heard children laughing and yelling in excitement, making me miss Easton. I needed to call him on my way home or when I got back to the house and see how school was going for him. It wasn’t easy being half-black in our small, privileged town full of racist bigots.
I knocked lightly on the door as I looked down at the piece of paper in my hands, making sure I got the correct house number. Maybe I’d put in the wrong address by mistake because surely Coach couldn’t afford a house this nice on a college coaching salary unless his wife was mega-rich.
A tall, bald black man answered the door, and when he saw me, a blinding white smile spread across his handsome face. “You must be West. I’m Archer. Please come in.” He held out his hand to shake. I shook it, confused about who the man was. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Was he the butler or chef?
“Dada,” a baby dressed in striped pajamas that made him look like a little sailor called, waddling up to the man in front of me and held his arms out to be picked up.
The Archer fellow picked up the little boy and hugged him to him as I eyed the door, sure I was in the wrong house. “This is Diesel, and he was just about ready to go to bed. Go ahead and head to the kitchen while I go lay him down. Keaton is in there with the other kids, finishing up dinner.”
Other kids?
Archer walked away, and I took a step toward the door, ready to hightail it out of there and try to find the right house when Coach came around the corner.
“I thought it was you. Come, follow me; I’ve got to get dinner out of the oven before it burns.” Coach motioned for me to follow him.
I did as I was told, wondering if this was a dream. Had I wrecked on the way over, and now I was in a coma?
By the time I caught up to him, Coach was heading outside with a large dish in his hands. When I looked through the sliding glass door, there were two blond kids of different ages sitting around a table that had food all around it and candles lit in the center.
“Hey,” Coach walked up to me slowly with a tentative smile on his face and put his hand on my bicep. “Are you okay? You look a little lost.”
“I thought I was, or maybe I still am. I don’t know. Where am I?” I rushed out. Maybe this was his friend’s house he invited me to. Whatever this was, I had no idea why I’d been invited here tonight.
Coach laughed, and the cute little blonde girl followed. “You’re at my house. I invited you to dinner, remember?” His brows pulled together in worry as he looked over at me. “Are you feeling alright? The doctor didn’t mention you have a concussion.”
“No.” I shook my head as if it would clear it, and everything would suddenly make sense. “I feel fine, but I’m…” I wasn’t sure how to express my confusion.
“Daddy, can we eat? I’m starved.” The little girl asked, her big blue eyes looking up at him pleadingly. With those eyes, she would never be told no. Or at least I’d never be able to.
“As soon as West gets situated, we’ll eat, baby girl,” Archer answered as he came outside with a plate full of garlic bread.
Coach patted me on the shoulder. “Come sit down, and I’ll enlighten you on why you’re here. How does that sound?” An easy smile was on his face as he watched me take my place at the table. This was a side of him the team never got to see. Even when Coach Kyle wasn’t pissed off at us, he was stern. Direct and to the point.
“I hope you like lasagna,” Archer said as he started to scoop out pieces onto each plate. The little girl got up and added a piece of bread to each plate with the sweetest smile on her face. She was an absolute angel.
“How old is she?” I asked as she sat down in her chair, her little legs swinging happily.
“Stella’s four going on thirty, and this big guy here is Tyler; he’s ten,” Archer stated proudly.
“West, I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you to our home tonight?” Coach Kyle said softly from his spot at one end of the table.
Their home? I gulped.
“Yeah, kind of. I thought you were going to kick me off the team and didn’t want to do it in front of the other guys,” I confessed.
Coach Kyle let out a booming laugh that had everyone at the table exce
pt me laughing also. “Hardly. You’re the best wide receiver we have. There’s no way I want to lose you. I think if you play your cards right, you’ll find yourself in the NFL one day.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Playing in the NFL would be a dream. I could give my mom and Easton the kind of life they deserved but couldn’t afford right now.
“Then, why am I here?”
“I want you to know that I’m going to make sure Alpha Mu won’t get away with what they did to you. I’m going to make sure the school doesn’t let them off the hook. No amount of money is going to get them out of what they did to you.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I muttered before picking up my piece of bread and taking a bite because I didn’t know what to say to his speech.
“I moved here because I didn’t want to have to hide the fact that I’m gay from the world, and the town I grew up in and lived in until recently made me feel like I had to hide my true self.” I gaped at him. “Well, the town and my family. I spent years being unhappy and couldn’t do it anymore. Willow Bay should be a safe place, and Alpha Mu’s actions toward you because you’re gay is intolerable.”
“I agree.” Archer reached out a hand and placed it on top of Coach Kyle’s. “I know how difficult it can be growing up black and gay, so if you ever need to talk, we’re here for you. Day or night.”
It was difficult to swallow the emotion that clogged my throat, but eventually, I felt like I could speak without it coming out as a croak. “This means more to me than you’ll ever know. I was out in my small town of Santa Lucia, and I never had much of a problem. I was an outsider because we had no money, then add being biracial and gay. It was the trifecta, and yet nothing could have prepared me for what happened on Friday night.” I smiled over at Stella, who sat eating her lasagna without a care in the world. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t remember what happened, and once I physically heal, then I can hopefully put it all behind me.”