Page 20 of Dark Things
“Are you ready for this?” Colter asks, tying up his cleat. As captain, I guess it’s his job to check in with everyone.
“I am. Feels like I’ve been training for this since I got my first pigskin,” I reply, grinning wide and trying not to make it seem like I’m a deranged killer, even if that’s exactly what I am.
Stafford and Brooks walk over to where we’re sitting, eyeing me up as if to find fault, but I don’t let them see the buzz of excitement or tremble in my hands.
“Being on the field with a camera crew is a mind fuck, but if you ignore it and keep your head in the game, listen to the calls, and play like you’re going into battle, you should be fine,” Brooks says, his hand slamming down on my shoulder a little harder than necessary.
Brooks is a big dude, matching my height but having about thirty pounds of muscle on me. He’s a formidable center, not letting much get past him. He’s protective and reliable. I’m sure that’s why he’s the BFF of the quarterback, Colter Shultz.
“Battle, huh?” I chuckle. “Not sure if I’d be comparing the two, but I hear ya. It won’t be easy, but I got something to play for tonight. I’ll be focused.”
“Something or someone?” Staff asks, his eyebrows a tad furrowed.
I’m surprised. Why would he be interested in who I have in the stands? And then it hits me. Reb. We allshare Math Analysis together, and he looked a little interested when he approached us the first day.
“Someone. Reb, she’s here to see me play. She hasn’t gotten the chance before. We were too busy in Kentucky.”
It’s not like I can tell them much, but for some reason I want them to know Reb is mine. We haven’t talked about this aspect of our cover, but if it keeps fuckboys away from her, all the better. We don’t have time for interested parties making a play for her attention, even if we’ve dabbled with a third in the past.
“You guys are together?” Staff asks, his scowl is a little deeper and I see him clutching his helmet a little too tight.
Huh, interesting. Neither of us has even talked to him much. Or maybe Reb has and didn’t tell me? We’ve always had an understanding. If there’s someone out there we’d like to fuck, we bring them in. Never alone. No, I don’t think she’s shown interest. I trust her with my heart. She would have said something, meaning this is Stafford testing the waters. That leaves me extra curious, because he’s hot with his nerdy glasses and three piece suits.
“She’s the most important person in my life. Together isn’t the word I’d use. It’s more than that, or deeper. She’s my person.”
“Deeper? Like you’re in love and obsessed, or like she feels the same and it’s more than just a casual relationship with traditional rules?” Staff asks.
I laugh this time because if Reb found out he was calling her traditional or what we have as traditional, she’d be cracking up. Nothing about Reb is ordinary.
“Nah, it’s none of those. Reb is my partner in every way that matters. She’s just more than some girlfriend or college fling. She’s mine.”
I keep the growl out of my voice, but I need to leave before I start to throw my weight around to make sure they know to stay away. While I don’t think they’re bad dudes, I can’t have them sniffing around too much. Fucking people is very different than trying to be in someone’s life. And our life is too fucked up for these pretty boys.
“All right, dipshits. It’s time to get on the field. Let’s go out there and slaughter the Bulldogs. We need to crush this. The first game always sets the precedent for the season. Bring me a win!” Coach yells, getting us all pumped up.
The guys start yelling and jumping around the locker room, getting amped up. It’s hard to not surrender to the energy, and I’m shouting by the end of it.
No one would be able to see Ghost the killer. They’d see Haunt, the normal, twenty-one-year-old college kid.
We race out of the tunnel onto the field, and the noise hits me first. There are thousands of people in the stands cheering us on. Excitement bubbles upinside, but as I scan the crowd, I’m only looking for one person.
And there she is on the fifty yard line. Right in the front. She’s got on my jersey, with tight as fuck jeans. Her hair is pinned straight in a ponytail, face just as beautiful as always.
We make eye contact, and she stands up, kissing three fingers and holding them out to me. I clasp my heart in response before jogging over to the rest of the team huddle.
I can’t wait to score for my girl.
Rebelle
Seeing Haunt play is fucking exciting. His team is really good, but the way he moves…it’s like watching him on a mission, but without the killing. He’s always been liquid and smooth, his body shifting to where it needs to be before his thoughts match up. I’m in awe.
I’m also very mindful of three other players on the team. Even from up here in the stands, I can’t help it. They’re here, after all this time, and my rage turns into a tornado of fire inside of me. Especially when the announcer goes on and on about the dream trio. How they’re so perfect on the field.
Of course they are. They didn’t get put into juvie at the age of sixteen, and they weren’t tortured and beatenuntil they became one of the country's most sought after killers. If they peeked into my world, there’s a good chance they’d pass out from fright. The past needs to stay locked up, but it keeps slamming into me, reminding me of everything I had to go through.
“I can’t believe he’s playing! This is just so amazing. Finally, my brother is able to show the world what he’s got. I mean, look at him,” Cat squeals.
Apparently, I don’t need to be Haunt’s cheerleader, since Cat has that covered. She’s more excited than me to be here.
