Page 5 of The Worst Pucking Deal

“What the fuck?” I ask. I’m barely aware I’m moving until I find myself next to Coach.

“Where’s the goddamn security?” he barks, looking like an angry bull.

It’s all happening so fast, and I’m so fucking confused by what’s going on that I don’t register the man’s shouting my name until Mickey clamps his hand around my arm. “Don’t react,” he warns, pulling me backward.

“Sawyer, you fucking piece of shit!” the man roars. “Show yourself, fucker.”

I have no fucking idea who this guy is, and I don’t particularly care right now. I’m too preoccupied wondering where the fuck our security team is. It’s not like we really need them as most of us are bigger than them, but unlike those guys, we’re not armed or allowed to strike back.

“Calm down, son,” Coach says, trying to calm the angry man down.

The guy, who’s looking like an unhinged mad man, pushes Coach out of the way. “How could you fucking do it? Only a coward sleeps with another man’s wife.” When he finds me in the crowd, he points an accusing finger in my direction.

“What the fuck?” I growl, immediately angered by the fucking accusation.

“Get out of here,” Mickey urges, pulling at my arm.

I don’t budge. I cross my arms over my chest and stare the man down. “Who the hell are you?” I ask, trying like hell not to give in to my temper. I might be many things, but I’m not a fucking cheater or home-wrecker, and it pisses me off to hear him call me that.

“You fucking slept with my wife,” the guy shouts, spittle flying from his mouth. “She told me everything, so there’s no point in denying it.”

As I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, the sounds of more commotion reach my ear. A woman that I’ve seen before runs toward the guy. “I told you it was only a one time thing,” she cries as she attempts to take his hand.

The guy shrugs her off, barely paying her any attention. Instead, he narrows his eyes on me. “You recognize her.” It’s not a question, so I don’t give him an answer. Yeah, I fucking recognize her. It was only a month ago I was balls deep in her, but she didn’t wear a wedding band.

I don’t need to look around to know that everyone’s attention is on us. The tension in the air is growing and twisting, becoming its own entity, feeding off the hostility. Fuck me, there’s no point in denying what the guy already knows. Especially not since his wife was spotted leaving my hotel room the next morning.

Knowing that I have to play this cool with cameras on us, I say, “I didn’t know she was married.” Is that the right thing to say? I’m not sure there’s such a thing, given the circumstances. All I can do is hope it doesn’t escalate.

Without warning, the guy lunges at me. “You fucking disgusting coward,” he roars. Before I can move out of the way, he punches me square in the jaw. His hand comes back again, but I manage to push him away from me. “You ruined my marriage. Why did you have to go after my wife?”

I’m distantly aware that Jo’s calling for security while Mickey and Coach are trying to hold me back. If the guy was just some deranged fucker, I might have let them. I can’t when he’s publicly accusing me of doing the one thing I’ve sworn I’d never do. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I shout.

When the guy tries to punch me again, I see red. I duck before slamming my fist into his face. With one hand, I grab a hold of his shirt and throw him on the ground. I lose count of how many hits I get in before I’m pulled off the guy, and it’s only then I notice the blood smeared across his face and my fist.

“I. Did. Not. Fucking. Know,” I seethe, barely out of breath and still high on my anger.

“Calm the fuck down.”

“I didn’t know,” I repeat, less angry this time.

“Get him out of here,” Coach barks, and Mickey is quick to grab me.

“Let’s go,” my buddy says, pushing me away from the crowd.

We don’t get far before we’re stopped by the police. “Sawyer Perry…”

“Fuck off. He was defending himself,” Mickey growls.

“... You’re under arrest.”

I feel like I’m walking through a fucking dream as I’m placed in handcuffs while the cops read me my rights. All I hear is the blood rushing to my ears and the wild pumping of my heart.

Lucia

Remus: I can’t wait to see you in two days, Lucia.

Iscowl at the unwelcome reminder about lunch with my cousin. Despite knowing better, my fingers keep dancing across my phone’s keyboard, typing out message after message, explaining that I’m buried in work and don’t have time. But I don’t send any of my objections. To object is futile, I know this. That’s why I’m smart enough not to even try.

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