Page 31 of Coach's Son


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Across from me, my brother’s already slurping down a Bloody Mary at eight in the morning. This bastard is always ready to drink, no matter the hour. The candied bacon garnish disappears between his teeth with a smug crunch.

“Aye, lad—what’s bothering you?” Drew smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’s too good to use the napkin merely inches from his palm.

I narrow my eyes. “You asking out of brotherly concern, or because you’ve already meddled in it?”

He chuckles. “What, can’t a brother enjoy breakfast without being accused of treason?”

“Not when you’re the brother in question,” I mutter, snapping the menu shut. The waitress comes by and I order the Lumberjack platter, mostly out of spite. Heavy food for a heavy morning.

Drew leans back, sunglasses still on indoors. He’s really a special breed of a wanker. “If Lover Boy’s gone, maybe he just needed some space. Doesn’t mean you’ve got to brood like a bloody widow.”

The way he saysLover Boymakes my jaw tick. He knows. He always knows how to twist the dagger and rip it through my gut.

“Have you been fucking with him?” I spit, quiet enough to keep the other patrons from hearing, but edgy enough to let him know I’m done shooting the piss.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Drew grins, his teeth flashing like a hyena’s. “I’m not that desperate for a piece of arse; I could have any man in this room in five minutes, tops.”

“Not the point,” I snap, stabbing my fork into the table like it’s his gulping throat. “You stay away from Austin.”

Drew smirks, taking a taunting sip of his drink, tomato juice staining his lips red. “Protective, aren’t we? What’s the matter, Charlie? Scared your golden touch isn’t enough to keep him happy?”

My nails carve crescents into my thighs beneath the table, blood threatening to bead if I press any harder. “He doesn’t need anyone else,” I grind out.

“Oh, but hewantssomeone else,” Drew counters, his grin widening as he crunches down on the last strip of candied bacon withtheatrical prowess. “That’s the bit you can’t stand, innit? You can lock him up in your posh flat, fuck him silly till he can’t walk, but the second he lays eyes on me? He’ll wonder what the serpent tastes like. Wonder how good I am with my prick. Not so soft or gentle anymore. Not a rule-following good lad, but something filthier. Something he’ll never get from you.”

Heat threatens to explode my core, my cheeks embracing the smouldering scarlet. I want to lunge across the table and choke him out, watch the colour drain from his smug smile, until his lips turn a pale blue, and break a few of his teeth. But I can’t do that, giving him the satisfaction would only enrage him further. He’d love it. He’d rent a bloody chopper and scour the globe for Austin just to prove he could.

Drew leans in, centimetres from my face. “If he is sooooo happy with you, why do you think he ran away? He took off, because he couldn’t stay away from me.”

The words sear through my gut, like a smouldering blade burning bright from the forge.

My teeth grind so hard my jaw clicks, the iron taste of blood blooms on my tongue.

Meanwhile, Drew’s grin spreads like oil on water, slick and poisonous.

Oh, the pain I've suffered for having this sick twat as a brother.

I lean across the table, low enough that only he can hear me. “Listen to me, you snake. Austin didn’t run to you. He ranfromyou. Because you terrify him. Because you’re pathetic enough tostalk your own brother’s bloke instead of finding one of the hundred desperate sods who’d bend over for you after a single drink.”

Drew’s smirk falters—just a flicker, but I see it. That’s all the encouragement I need.

“You walk around like you’re the devil himself, but you’re nothing more than a washed-up goalie with a narcissist complex and a bottle for a best mate. You don’t protect anyone. You destroy them. And you won’t get your claws into Austin—not while I’m breathing.”

His tongue slides slowly over his teeth, eyes narrowing to slits. “Careful, baby brother.”

“No,” I snarl, my fists curling against the table. “Yoube careful. Because if you so much as text him again, I swear to Christ, I’ll make sure your career ends faster than your last shag. And we both know neither lasts long.”

The space between us rumbles with pure hatred; while the continued storm outside rattles the windows as if it's punctuating my words.

Drew chuckles darkly, leaning back in his chair. “Ah, Charlie boy. There’s the temper. Thought you’d lost it. You almost sound like me.”

I huff, but then his lips begin to move again—venom seeping off of every word.

“How about this? Whoever finds Lover Boy first gets to keep him… as long as he’s willing.”

“No.” The word erupts from me, like a spurting volcano. “That is not how this works. Austin is my boyfriend, not some random ladyou can pluck off willingly like fruit from a bloody pear tree.” My voice falters at the end, tripping over the fury tangled with fear.

Drew’s grin widens as if he’s been waiting for that stumble. “Don’t worry, baby bro,” he purrs. “I know Austin will be more than willing when I come across him in those deep, dark woods. Shivering, desperate for another man’s warm embrace. Who do you think he’ll choose?” His head tilts, pupils dilated with evil. “The man who can barely handle a tackle…” he sneers, “or the lad who can rock his entire universe?”