Page 7 of Break
I overheard some of the other players talking today in the gym, and they already like the guys. They think they’ll be good teammates and cool guys off the field. The three of them trick and manipulate others so easily, but they let me see their true, twisted sides.
Even years later, I still don’t understand why I’m the exception.
After taking a minute, I push off my front door and head straight to the kitchen, flicking on the light. Hues of lightgreen and white meet my eyes, and my familiar apartment color scheme slightly comforts me. As long as they don’t find this place, I’m safe here.
I can hide here. My own sanctuary.
But when I leave, I know what I have to face.
I stare at the bottle of whiskey I have hidden in the back of the cupboard. My chest moves with every breath and slowly, my heart rate drops.
I shouldn’t go back. I shouldn’t become the same person my father was and drink away the pain.
Tears cloud my sight and I close the cabinet, knowing it will make me feel better for just a little bit, but then control slips through my fingers and one drink becomes another. I have to stay strong because the guys aren’t just going to leave. They’ve been offered positions on an NFL team, and they have the added bonus of having me as their physical therapist. That’s constant contact. Constant torment.
But I’m going to fight my way through this. I have to be strong.
Three
Icheck the time and groan. It’s a whole hour before I should wake up, but there’s no way I’m falling back to sleep and into the nightmares and memories of my experience with Dimitri, Knox, and Jaxon.
The guys have infected my mind.
“Oh, screw it,” I mutter as I toss the sheets off my bed.
I’ll just get an early start at work, and I’ll be able to avoid them for at least a little while. I’ll have some peace and quiet todo my job.
As I brush my teeth and fix my thick black hair in a high ponytail, my eyes settle on my reflection in the mirror. Dark crescents paint the skin beneath my pale blue eyes, reminding me of how bad of a night I’ve had. The last thing I want is for the guys to know that they’re getting to me, so with some concealer, I cover up the tiredness on my face and add some extra blush and bronzer to give me some color.
My stare drops to my chest, following the carvings, the scars they inflicted on me on that night seven years ago. The night before I ran.
Some curve lower to my belly, some even paint the insides of my thighs. They marked me, made me theirs, and now it seems they’re here to claim me again.
I scoff and shake my head as I put on my team polo shirt and fitted khaki pants. I close a few extra buttons to be sure no one sees the scars and slide on my tennis shoes before I head out the door. My eyes dart up and down the hallway to make sure the coast is clear.
They can try whatever they want, but this time, I’ll fight harder. I’ll take back what they stole from me.
They’re probably all on the third floor, but I don’t know that for sure. They could be spread out. Knox or Jaxon could even be somewhere on this floor. It’s bad enough that they live in the same building as me. With my luck, one of them will be on my floor too.
This must be purposeful sabotage. This can’t be a coincidence.
With a racing heart, I hurry to the elevator and hit the down button multiple times. Luckily, the elevator isn’t busy right now since so many people are asleep, so it reaches me quickly. I hit the floor for the lobby and leave the building in a brisk walk, not even daring to glance around.
Once I feel like I’m in the clear, I slow down and take a deep breath of cool, early morning air. The sun has barely broken through the horizon, slight darkness still painting the sky. I head to the stadium and park in the employee parking lot.
When I round the building to go to one of the side entrances closest to the gym and therapy room, my heart plummets at the sight of Knox leaning against the building with a cigarette between his fingers.
“What are you doing here?” My words escape me before I can even stop them.
Knox takes a drag, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. He lowers the cigarette and smirks at me. “Getting a head start on the day.”
The same idea I had. Of course.
“By standing outside and smoking a cigarette?” I question him, unable to rein in my sass.
Knox smirks and crushes his cigarette under his shoe before stepping closer to me.
I take a step back. “Don’t.”
