Page 57 of Racking Up Penalties
I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me, hot and relentless. It’s been simmering there for so long. My fingers clench into fists at my sides, the need to unleash this fury almost overwhelming.
I thought I saw a good side to Ethan but his dad coming just reminded me how rotten he is.
“Can’t you just lay off?” The words spill out, laced with venom that surprises even me. I’m not usually one to lose my cool, but with Ethan, it’s like he’s got a direct line to all my buttons, and he can’t help but push them.
He straightens up slowly, the arrogance in his posture making my blood boil. “What’s your problem, Liam?”
My problem? He’s my problem. His money, his attitude, the way he walks around like he owns the place—it all grates on me like sandpaper. And now, him making Tristan and Tessa doubt me, that’s the last straw.
“Everything about you,” I spit out, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. There’s no holding back now; the dam has broken, and all the hate I’ve kept bottled up is flooding out. “You think you can just waltz in here and take whatever you want.”
His brow furrows, and for a moment, a flicker of something crosses his face. Surprise? Annoyance? It’s gone before I can read it fully, replaced by that same infuriating confidence.
“Sounds to me like you’re the one with the issue,” he retorts, his voice steady. “You don’t get to call the shots on who I—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off, stepping closer, feeling that protective instinct flare up like a torch in the dark. This isn’t just about our rivalry, or the team, or even the fact that our history goes so deep it can never be removed. This is about Tessa, and I’ll be damned if I let him drag her into whatever game he’s playing.
“Stay away from her, Ethan.” The threat is clear in my voice, low and dangerous. I know what his family is capable of, the kind of poison they spread, and I won’t let Tessa become another casualty.
He meets my glare without flinching, his jaw set hard. “It isn’t up to you,” he snaps back, and I can see it in his eyes—he’s not backing down.
“Like hell it isn’t.” My words are clipped, final.
Ethan shakes his head, dismissive, but there’s a challenge there too. “We’ll see about that,” he says, and there’s a certainty in his tone that sets my nerves on edge.
The locker room air is thick with tension, and I can feel every muscle in my body coiled like a spring. Ethan stands there, his gym bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, looking every bit the privileged athlete he’s always been.
“Stay. Away. From. Tessa,” I say, my voice low but carrying across the room. The smell of sweat and determination lingers in the air, mingling with the seriousness of my command. “You and your family… you’re bad news, Ethan. Keep your poison away from her.”
Ethan’s brow arches, and for a moment, he looks as if I’ve just told him the sky is falling. He sets his bag down with a thud, the sound oddly final in the tense silence.
“If she wants me around, then that’s her choice.”
His words sting, and I take a deep breath to center myself. This isn’t just about me and Ethan; it’s about Tessa—her happiness, her future. And I’ll be damned if I let him trample over that with his careless ways and silver-spoon arrogance.
“Think about what you’re doing, Ethan,” I warn him, letting my concern for Tessa bleed through the anger. “This isn’t a game. Not to me, not to her.”
“No. It isn’t a game,” Ethan says after a tense pause, his voice softer now, but the challenge still there. “Let her make her own decisions.”
“Listen to me,” I force the words through clenched teeth, every muscle taut with frustration. “If you keep pushing this, if you don’t back off… I’ll tell her everything. The truth about your family, about what you’ve done. All of it.”
Ethan’s eyes blaze with a fire that could ignite the snow falling outside. He squares his shoulders, bracing like he does before a face-off on the ice, ready for combat. “I’m not your puppet, Liam,” he spits out. “I won’t dance to your tune or anyone else’s. Tessa—she means something to me, and I’ll be damned if I let you dictate my actions.”
My pulse hammers in my ears, a rhythm of war drums that urge me forward. We’re toe to toe now, chests almost touching. I can feel the tension rolling off him in waves, smell the scent of his soap mixed with the rawness of sweat and fury.
“Fine,” I finally concede, my tone clipped. “But don’t think for a second that I’ll stop watching out for her. When you mess up, I’ll be the first one telling her to drop you.”
Ethan nods once, sharply, as if we’ve come to some sort of understanding. But we both know the truth, it’s far from settled.
I pivot abruptly, the motion a sharp break from Ethan’s unwavering gaze. My boots thump against the cold tile of the locker room floor.
“See you in an hour,” Ethan says. “We are taking Tessa to Tristan’s game.”
My fingers curl into fists at my sides as I march out without looking back. I can almost feel his smirk, the one that says he knows exactly how to get under my skin.
I told Tristan I wouldn’t hurt Tessa by fighting with Ethan which means I’m going to have to fake it during the game.
My mind races, plotting strategies for the game, for Tessa, for keeping her world untainted by the ripples of our resentment. It’s a juggling act I never signed up for, but I’ll be damned if I drop the ball when she’s the one who could get hurt.
