“How much?” I grit out between clenched teeth.
Piper’s brow furrows. “How much what?”
“How much did you pay for his silence?”
The color drains from her face. “It doesn’t matter.”
The hell it doesn’t. If I have my way, the prick will be returning every penny.
I level my gaze at the blackmailing piece of shit. “How much did you take from my girl?”
He glares at me, but I’m not about to back down. “Ten grand.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
No wonder she’s hurting for cash. She can’t possibly keep up with that kind of outlay while covering tuition and living expenses. It’s impossible.
This is why she’s been filming so much.
It was the only way to protect her secret.
My gut hardens at the irony.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Mike.” I pitch my voice low, ensuring no one outside our little circle can hear it. “You’re going to repay every goddamn cent you took from her or I’m calling the police, and you can bet your ass I will make it my personal mission to ensure you spend time in a cage. You willneverset foot in a classroom again.”
That last bit is going to happen no matter what.
This prick is a predator, and he has no business working with students of any age.
“If I go down, she goes down with me.” He jerks his chin at Piper. “Do you really want the entire world to know your girlfriend is a dirty fucking camwhore? You might as well—”
Black spots dot my vision and the next thing I know, my fist is connecting with his jaw.
He stumbles back, crashing into a guy wearing a Georgia polo. The UGA fan drops his beer and the glass shatters on the floor just as the blackmailing piece of shit goes down.
Every head in the vicinity turns our way, but I only have eyes for Piper as all hell breaks loose.
She claps a hand over her mouth, a look of horror passing over her face, and then my boys are crowding around and Coach Collins is going ballistic.
“What the hell is going on here?” He whips off his ball cap and quickly places it back on his head when he realizes people are filming. “Have you all lost your damn minds?”
Fuck.
This is going to be online in minutes.
Maybe seconds.
With just hours until kickoff, it’s bound to go viral.
Please don’t let the broadcast networks pick it up.
The team has worked too hard to have their accomplishments overshadowed by my dumb ass.
“You okay?” Parker whispers, resting a hand on my biceps.
I nod slowly. “I’m good.”
Hotel security materializes, their black suits and radios a dead giveaway.
