Page 88 of Rival Hearts

I findEast in the locker room. His uniform stained from the turf and the paint on the field. He glances up at me, unfazed that I’ve come down here for him. He tosses his helmet onto its shelf and then sits down on the bench.

“If you came down here to lecture me, I knew what I was doing was stupid even before it happened. But I’m too fucking tired of him to care.”

“I know.” I sit down on the bench next to him.

“He’s doing his level best to murder your guy. You should be up there.”

“Wren and Bea have an eye on him. He’s in the tent. I wanted to come check on you.”

“I didn’t just do it for Quentin. It’s just years of this shit. Tobias. You. Me. Now Quentin. The way he treats us like we’re disposable pawns, and he’s the ultimate arbiter of right and wrong. That he can get away with this fucking head-hunting shit. If the league let’s him get away with it…” East shakes his head.

“I know. It’s fucked up. But you’ve got to pull it together and ignore him. He feeds off the attention. Off the rage we all feel toward him. Don’t let him have it.”

East lets out a huff and shakes his head, leaning back.

“He’s gonna get Quentin fucking killed. Concussed at the very least. Trying hard to fucking tear an MCL or ACL. He and any players who do his fucking bidding should be suspended but instead, it’s going to be me.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re skirting a fine. Let’s hope not a suspension. Hopefully, management and other players can make some appeals on your behalf, and I’ll try to stir shit up on socials in your defense.”

“I don’t even like Quentin that much. Still warming up to him, but fuck if I’m going to watch our fucking father take him out at the knees because he’s got a personal fucking vendetta. Idon’t think he even cares if they win the game. You think his players would at least fight for that.”

“Don’t worry about Dad. I’ll take care of him.”

East’s eyes shift to mine. “You sound like Tobias now.”

“Oh, he’ll wish I was Tobias. If he puts anything more than a few bruises on Quentin, I’ll do worse than that.”

“Just be careful.”

“Oh, I will. But I’m tired of the way he treats people. Especially the people I love.”

East gives me a sympathetic look.

“Go back out and watch. Tell my wife I’m an idiot, but everything’s fine.”

“All right. Let me know if you need anything.”

42

Quentin

I wakeup in the middle of the night, uncomfortable and my whole body aching from the hits I took today. But I have an angel next to me. She fell asleep telling me how much she loved me and how she was going to fix everything however she could.

I kiss her forehead and slide my arm carefully out from underneath her. I don’t want to steal any of her sleep away when she looks so peaceful, but after passing out so quickly after the game, I’m wide awake now. I wander out to the living room and settle in on the couch, groaning a little at my lower back.

The beating I took was definitely the worst of my career. I’ve taken worse one-offs. Had a concussion before, but never anything so consistently brutal. I was pounded into the turf over and over again and slammed with one driving hit afteranother. I am lucky I can still walk at this point, but I doubt I’ll be able to sleep well for a few weeks with every inch of my body aching like this.

I turn on the TV and try to find a comfortable way to sit, one where not too many parts of my body touch each other or another surface, but it’s damn near fucking impossible. I flip through channels and give up, opting instead for some on-demand show about unexplored places on earth. I’m lost in it for a while before I hear the soft pad of feet across the floorboards.

“How long have you been up?” Madison asks as she leans over me from behind and kisses the top of my head.

“I don’t know. An hour or so. I can’t sleep. I keep waking up from laying too long in one position and it throbbing like fucking hell.”

“Did you take the pain pills the doctor prescribed?”

“I took some earlier. I don’t want to take more than the minimum for the inflammation. They give me fucking hyperrealistic nightmares.”

“Do you want ice? Or an ice bath?”

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