Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2) - Page 62

When he was traded, no one seemed unhappy, but I thought that was because we’d just won a Championship with me behind the center. Now, I realize that it’s because he’s an asshole and a bad teammate, not to mention a general shitstain of a human being.

Lainey does not want me confronting him. I have a game tomorrow. I should be in my room concentrating on the plays, reviewing the defense, prepping for the interview this afternoon, but I want to deal with this now. That way my head will be clear.

I notice that Chip has a manila envelope in his hand. What did Lainey say? That this pencil dick took pictures? I entertain a short fantasy of catapulting from my chair and beating the piss out of Chip. I wonder how fast the video of that would go viral. Five minutes? Ten?

I grind my back molars as Chip reaches me. He slides into a chair without fear. Why didn’t he play like that on the field? It was his hesitation that got him beat more than once. Then I notice the rapid pulse in his neck, the light sheen of sweat near his hairline, and the nervous movements of his fingers as he taps the envelope.

He’s anxious. It’s a mix of excitement but also of fear, and that settles me more than anything. Leaning back, I throw an arm across the top of the velvet banquette.

“More game film?” I say easily.

His eyebrows furrow, and my confidence grows. He thought I’d be the nervous and scared one. Not today, son. Not today.

He chokes out a smart-ass laugh. “If we’re talking about the fucking game, I guess so.” He slides the envelope across the table. I don’t make any move toward it. Instead, I keep my eyes on him.

“What’s the point of this?”

“The pictures? I’m trying to save you, man.” He clasps his hands together and leans forward. “This girl is toxic, and these pictures are just to show you exactly how. Or maybe you’re into the orgy thing, which, hey, is none of my business, but this sort of thing can really be a distraction. And you know what Coach says.” He invites me to finish his sentence, but I’m not playing any games with him, not even fill-in-the-blank.

He makes a small face. “Anyway, obviously, no distractions. Elaina Valdez is a big fucking distraction; not to mention the girl probably carries around more diseases than a ship carries sailors, am I right?”

“No.”

Confusion sets in. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, no, I don’t believe Lainey is a distraction or that she is likely to be a carrier of any diseases or any other rancid thing you can come up with. Tell me, why Lainey? What do you have against her?”

He tries to shrug it off. “I’ve got nothing against her. I’m trying to protect you.”

“By printing out pictures of Lainey with other people? Those pictures will embarrass her. They don’t impact me at all. I don’t give a shit what she did in the past. I’ve got to wonder why you’re so concerned with one woman who you don’t even particularly like. Unless…” I trail off. Unless those pictures aren’t about harassing Lainey at all, but rather, they’re about affecting me. “Jesus, this isn’t about the girl at all, is it?”

He throws up his hands. “Finally, yes! It’s all about protecting you and your image. I don’t want—”

I hold up a palm to cut him off. “It’s about the fact that you’re jealous as fuck that I took over your position. You could give two shits about Lainey. You want to get into my head and see me fail. You’d probably love it if I lost my head and threw a few punches. I’d get suspended. The media would crucify me. That’s why you planted those rumors about me not being a team player. You saw how I looked at Lainey two years ago and thought, I’ll fuck with both these people with one blow.”

Chip’s face turns white. “N-no,” he stutters. “That’s not why I brought this up at all. I want to win.”

“That may be the single truthful thing you’ve said since you sat down. You do want to win, but you’re not in the limelight anymore, and it’s killing you that your backup is.” I push the table back, far enough that it punches Chip in the gut. Standing up, I pick up the envelope and fold it in half, small enough that I can shove it into the inside pocket of my suit coat. “I’m done here. See you at afternoon walkthrough.”

“Don’t forget. There’s more where those came from,” he hisses as I start to walk away.

I take a moment before turning around to face him. He doesn’t deserve to see my anger. Indifference will needle him more than anything. “I have no doubt that you do, which is why whatever you’re selling here isn’t worth buying.”

Tags: Jen Frederick Jackson Boys Romance
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