She quickly laughs. “Nope.”
I reach my fingers out, and she leans away from my touch, making my chest burn.
“Tell me.”
“I just did.” She crosses her arms.
I scoff. “So, if he didn’t, one of these guys did it to you then?”
My eyes flicker to them, and both of their lips are twisted into scowls.
Becca subconsciously leans closer to Keanu, which definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by me, and that stinging sensation tickles my knuckles once again.
Her gaze holds me in place, and I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t hurt that she could hide her emotions from me. She’s a master of her own disguise—always has been.
“Just drop it, Callum,” Becca begs me.
But I can’t. I won’t. “Don’t lie to me, love. It will only prolong his pain.”
Her fists fly down to her sides. “Just drop it, Callum! I already took care of it. I’m done with this conversation.”
My hands thrust through my hair. “I can’t drop it, Becca. It’s not that simple! I can’t just walk away from this, knowing someone hurt you. I won’t! You can’t stop me. By the end of tonight, whether you want it or not, you and Coleman will have matching bruises.”
My rage is spewing out of my body. I think my hair might be on fire. I need to get this rage out. And honestly, right now, I want to take it out on someone’s face, preferably Coleman’s.
I turn around and take off for the hotel.
Becca groans, then shouts behind me, “I hate you!”
I smile, turning my head and yelling back, “I hate you too, Becca.”
I push out my thoughts of her, focusing on Coleman.
And I let my anger consume me.
Flying through the doors, I have one thing on my mind—finding him. I slip into the elevator, and the ten seconds it takes to get to our floor feels like hours.
The elevator dings, doors slide open, and my eyes bounce between all the players in the hall, huddled around one person. And I would bet a million dollars, which I don’t have, that I know exactly who they are surrounding.
My teammates move as I walk through them. However, Chance, Rhett, Donovan, and Dawson don’t comply.
Chance looks up at me, eyes wide. “Whoa, bro. You okay?”
I take one jagged deep breath in
I speak loud enough for only them to hear. “He touched her, choked her, her fucking neck is already bruising. One of her guards did that.”
The rest of my roommates follow my gaze, and they all straighten up a little taller, glancing at Coleman. Not in fear, but for support. Ready to follow me where I lead them. And a sliver of my anger fades, but not by much.
Donovan takes one look at me and steps forward. “We got you.”
I stride past them and break through the guys to the center, where Coleman is talking to one of the starting linemen. Something about saving an old lady.
Coleman looks up right before I wrap my hands around his throat and push him back until he hits the wall.
I hear players behind me shouting, but no one’s getting to me, thanks to Rhett, Chance, Dawson, and Donovan.
I push my thumbs against his trachea, feeling the cough trying to squeeze free, but I dig in harder, stifling it.
