Page 36 of Auction Time
“You’ve been quiet,” he noted.
“Not a lot to say,” I answered.
“Want to join in the bet? You’re the betting man, aren’t you?” Sam asked, and Matt laughed.
“Biggest bet of all,” Matt told him. “He’s going after the Cartwright Princess. Vanessa the ball buster. Bet she’s good in bed with that fire, man. Her pussy will be—”
He didn’t get to finish. I reached for him across the table and grabbed him around his neck.
One move.
One very swift move was all it took, and my grip around his neck was so tight he started to choke.
“Jesus Christ, Cole!” Denver called out and grabbed my arm.
He pulled and it was only then that the blind fury of red that flashed through my brain faded and I released Matt, leaving him gasping.
Fucking prick.
As the guys all looked at me like I’d lost my mind and Matt started coughing, I pointed at him and resumed my former bully mode I’d tamed down in recent years.
“You… fucktard. Don’t you mention her name again. Don’t talk about her, don’t think about her. If you do, you’re fucking dead. Got it?” I glared at him meaning every word.
He nodded with the fear of God in him, and I walked off leaving all of them behind to stare after me.
Sure, I might have just lost my bond with them, but I didn’t care. It was part of what obsession did to you. It made you lose focus and snap.
I couldn’t have him talk about her like that.
She was mine, whether she wanted to be or not.
* * *
The flight to Chicago the next morning was pretty much standard like other trips. Like the Patriots, The Centaurs had a private jet.
Usually, I’d be the life of the group in a setting like this, but I stuck to myself, sitting in the back with my headphones cranking up the music so I wouldn’t have to listen to everyone else.
As far as I knew, the only other guys who weren’t joining in on various conversations were Gilly and Eric, who were at the front. I actually hadn’t really spoken to them much since joining the team, but it was clear to me that they were different and almost kept themselves to themselves since they had their women.
Vanessa was on my mind big time.
I hadn’t actually meant to show her those paintings, and to be honest, I was glad she didn’t ask me too much more about them. Although admittedly, what she’d asked was quite enough.
Why did I paint her? Why were there so many?
Why did I do it?
Of course, the question she wasn’t asking that was glaring was, why did it look like I was so into her and turn her away that night when I could have had her?
I knew she would never believe the answer, and realistically, she knew what I was like. We’d come full circle right back to that point where I was faced with something pure that I wanted to taint but shouldn’t.
Time, however, had made me more eager, more selfish to get my dirty hands all over her.
The nobleness or whatever that had come over me that night ten years ago was no longer there. What raged inside me was a fire that could only be satisfied by claiming her for myself.
I knew she’d be on her way to Chicago at some point today too. I just wasn’t sure when I’d make my move.
There was a dinner tomorrow, the night before the game, and it was supposed to be busy and a big deal. I was thinking of skipping that.
