Salvation and Secrets (23 page)

We collided with such force that it knocked us both back. Not so much that we landed on our butts but enough to cause us to ground to a halt. Pain radiated through my left shoulder, but I shook it off, unwilling to take my eyes off him. I had been so focused on the play, on Braiden charging toward me, that I failed to realize that everyone around us had stopped to watch the scene play out. I glanced around the field out the corner of my eye. Everyone was staring right at us, waiting to see what would happen.

It happened so quickly not even I saw it coming.

Braiden tore off his helmet, hurled the ball at me, catching me off guard and rammed straight into me, his ducked head in the chest winding me. The impact sent us tumbling to the ground and as we fell, his elbow nudged my helmet. The movement caused me to choke for a breath and I managed to loosen it before pulling it off and tossing it aside. We landed and he was on me, covering my body with his own and kicking his padded legs on either side of my body. His fist rained down on my face and pain exploded through my cheekbone and I cursed into the air. Someone called out to us and Braiden looked up for just a second, giving me enough leverage to knock him off me. Scrambling to my feet, Braiden hauled himself up and spun to face me.

“You’re through. So is that bitch of yours,” he gritted out.

My fist replied as it drove into his nose. The crack reverberated around the field, which was now deadly silent.

Braiden didn’t yell out or scream; he didn’t even sway from the impact. He brought his hand to his bloody nose and smeared it away, grinning like a crazy person. “You’re going to regret th—”

“All right, you two. Show’s over.” Coach rushed between us and squared his shoulders. A few of the players, including Dennis, joined him.

“Someone get Donohue out of here, he needs medical.”

Braiden didn’t say a word as Kyler and Travis led him off the field.

“Pierce, you good?”

I touched a hand to my cheek. It would bruise, but other than that, I was okay. I nodded.

“Get out my sight. Someone get him out of here.”

“On it, Coach,” Dennis chimed in.

My eyes tracked Braiden all the way to the end of the field, where the medical room was located. He must have felt me watching because before Kyler dragged him inside, he looked back and found me.

And his eyes said it all.

It wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

Chapter 25

~ANA~

“Stay still, will you.” I gently rubbed the cream onto Jackson’s cheekbone, stifling a laugh when he winced.

“It’s worse than it looks, okay,” he snapped, still pissed at himself for letting Braiden get him so worked up.

“You’re going to be sore in the morning.”

“I’m sore now,” he grumbled, and I shook my head at him, a slight smile on my face.

He remained sulking on my bed while I returned the Arnica cream to the bathroom cabinet.

“Not as sore as his broken nose,” I called through the door. Jackson grunted something inaudible.

When I returned, he patted the bed and I crawled beside him, tucking myself into his huge arm.

“You lost it, huh?”

Jackson inhaled deeply and I could sense his frustration. He was disappointed with himself for letting Braiden get a rise out of him.

“I knew the minute I saw him across the scrimmage. He was planning to make it about us. Everyone else might as well have left the field.”

Silence enveloped us, nothing but the sounds of our breathing filling the room. I guess part of us had started to be lulled into a false sense of security. Braiden hadn’t retaliated or sought revenge yet, and other than a hateful look on the odd occasion our paths crossed around campus, Briony was off the radar. But now? Now felt like just the start.

The door flew open and Elena’s musical voice filled the room. “Surprise.” She glanced at us and frowned when her eyes landed on Jackson’s face. “What the hell happened?”

“Nice to see you too, Elena,” Jackson mumbled, laying his head back against the headboard and closing his eyes tight.

“His face ran into Braiden’s fist.”

“Nuh-uh. What really happened?”

“Exactly what Ana just said,” he groaned like it was painful to remember. Or just painful.

“Shit. I have to tell Tyson, he’ll—”

“Elena,” I hissed. “Really?” My eyes widened trying to tell her to quit it. After a few seconds, the realization hit, and she pursed her lips looking a little embarrassed.

“Sorry. My bad. It’s just, this is…huge, this is freaking huge. And awful. Really awful. Sorry, Jackson.”

Jackson didn’t reply, just grunted out some noise.

“Just one question. He came off worse, right?”

My eyes shifted to Jackson, but he remained eyes closed and breathing heavily. “Hmm, he may have broken his nose.”

Elena gasped and then laughed. “Way to go, big guy. Not just a pretty face, after all.”

“Are we seriously having this conversation?” Jackson groaned again, and I linked my fingers through his, squeezing gently. Some of the tension eased from his face, and I smiled to myself.

Jackson’s breathing changed, deepening and slowing. He was asleep. Slowly unpeeling my fingers from his, I inched off the bed and lifted a finger to my mouth. Elena nodded and crept to her dresser, collecting the things she had no doubt returned for.

“Want to come to the house with me? Let him sleep?” she mouthed at me.

I shook my head. I couldn’t just leave him. Besides, I was beat and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed beside him and sleep. Even if it was still early.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Elena opened the door quietly and snuck out without so much as a sound. Which was unusual for her, she generally arrived and left with noise.

After changing into my pajamas and brushing my teeth, I hit the light, plunging the room into darkness. The slither of light illuminated Jackson as he slept peacefully on the bed, still sitting up against the headboard. I stood rooted to the spot just watching him. He looked so peaceful, nothing like the guy only ten minutes earlier who was carrying a great weight on his shoulders. He looked more boyish, innocent. Peaceful.

He murmured and shifted, slouching down the bed until his head landed on one of the pillows. I took it as my cue to join him and slipped under the covers nestling into his side. Somewhere in his subconscious, he must have sensed me because his hand nudged me until I settled into the curve of his arm. His chin came down on my head and I closed my eyes. Laying wrapped in his arms, it was hard for me to believe that everything wasn’t perfect.

Because at that moment, it felt like it was.

~

Someone was following me. I had no doubts now, after hearing the low whistle twice since the last time, when I saw the figure in the shadows. I didn’t see him again, but I felt him. Felt eyes watching me from a distance. My gut told me to tell Jackson, but between worrying about Marcus returning and getting through the championship game on Saturday without another showdown with Braiden, now was not the time. In fact, it was shitty timing all around. Which made me think it had to be related to everything else. My first thought had been Chad. He had motive and a grudge. Jackson not only beat him pretty bad, but also got him kicked off the team. But he had laid low since school started back in the fall, and we hardly ever saw him on campus. It made no sense for it to be him, and he wasn’t the figure I’d seen outside McGinley. Most likely, it was someone Braiden had keeping an eye on me, trying to shake me up.

And it was working.

Although I was determined not to let them break me again, knowing someone knew where I lived—had been right outside watching me—freaked me out. But it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. Which is why I continued heading in the direction of McGinley despite the whistle dancing in the cool breeze. Picking up my pace, I was relieved that the warmer weather had brought out the crowds on campus again. Everyone was in high spirits ready for the game.

My fingers clutched at my phone ready to call Jackson. I knew he would blow a gasket when he found out. Especially when he found out I’d kept it from him; after he told me back in the fall to mention anything that seemed off. But it was just one more day. His last game of the season, possibly his last game ever wearing a Fallen jersey. When I asked him to quit, I hadn’t really meant the words. I just wanted things to be easier for him. But this morning after waking up cocooned in his arms, he kissed me and then said, ‘I’m going to do it. As soon as tomorrow is over, I’m walking.’

“Ana, wait up,” Paul’s voice called out and my body sagged with relief.

“Hey, Paul. Going to Mari’s?”

He nodded, glancing around us. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

My heart pounding in my mouth?

“Like someone whistling.”

Oh, that.

“No, didn’t hear a thing.” The words rushed out, and I realized how off my voice sounded.

Paul regarded me for a second, tightening his eyes. I fidgeted with the buttons on my jacket hoping he couldn’t see through my façade. “Ana, what aren’t you telling me?”

Knowing he could be like a dog with a bone, I threw my hands up. “Seriously, am I really that obvious?”

His eyes scanned the buildings around us again, paying particular attention to the cluster of trees next to Carver Hall.

“Do you see something?” I asked, trying my best to sound unfazed despite my pulse quickening.

“Ana,” his voice warned, and he redirected his attention back to me. “Talk. Or I’ll call Pi-Jackson. I’ll call Jackson.”

“You would not,” I challenged.

“Try me. He asked me to ke- hmm, nothing. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“He asked you what. What did Jackson ask you, Paul?” I asked calmly. So calm that I sounded a little eerie. But there was no way I was giving him more until I knew what they were doing talking about me behind my back.

“Hmm, umm, it doesn’t matter. Not now, anyway. Besides, we are talking about you.”

Lifting my chin, I stared right at him. “Paul.”

“Ana.” He cracked a goofy grin, knowing he was pissing me off.

This was ridiculous. What in the hell was going on?

Folding my arms over my chest, I narrowed my eyes right at him, giving him my best I-will-not-back-down glare. But his eyes glared back…Until I noticed the slight tremor in his hands, and then his eyes softened a little. He huffed, "Fine, woman. Fine, I'll tell you, but don't tell him I did, okay?"

"Promise."

"That night I came up to tell you about Mari, Jackson saw me. Waited the whole two hours for me to leave. Collared me, well, more like scared the shit out of me," he laughed uncomfortably. "He actually thought you and me, no, never mind. He- he asked me to keep an eye on you. Said something about you being in trouble."

“He said something similar to me a while back. But he hasn’t mentioned anything for weeks. And nothing has happened.”

But you think someone is following you.

“Just be careful, yeah?”

My head bobbed. It wasn’t like I did anything to put myself in harm’s way. I walked to and from the library…that pretty much summed up my unchaperoned activities. Other than that, Jackson was usually with me.

“Say hi to Mari for me.” I started to walk off, but Paul fell into step beside me. “May as well walk you to the door.”

“Paul, you don’t need to do th-”

“Woman, can you not just say thank you?”

I smiled. He really was a good guy. “Thank you, Cormack.” And then I punched his arm.

~

“Vamanos, let’s go. We’re going to be late.” Elena peered around the bathroom door and groaned at the sight of me brushing my teeth. “Seriously, do you want to miss the anthem? Jackson will lose his shit if you’re not there.”

“Coming, I’m coming,” I gurgled through the minty foam.

After rinsing my mouth, I dried my hands and checked my appearance one last time. I’d made more effort than usual. I didn’t want the label but couldn’t escape the fact I was Jackson Pierce’s girlfriend. Although it had taken him a while, he eventually persuaded me to wear The Fallen jersey he’d bought for me.

“He is going to drop when he sees you in this. Especially if, you know, it’s his last game and all.”

When I’d told Elena that Jackson was all set to quit the team after today’s game, she freaked, going on about how the whole team would suffer and he couldn’t walk away just because of Braiden. That it was letting him win. None of that mattered to me. I was determined to support Jackson with whatever he decided. Team or no team, it wouldn’t change anything. We still had to find a way to coexist at CFA with Braiden and Briony.

“Let’s go.”

We met Mari, Lydia, and Cassie outside of McGinley. The guys had gone on ahead, overexcited about having ‘some-of-the-best-freaking-seats-in-the-stadium,’ as Paul put it.

“He did not put his number on you.” Cassie shrieked, spinning me on the spot. “You’re wearing Jackson Pierce’s jersey.”

I groaned, shrugging out her arms. “It’s not his jersey, Cass. It’s just a replica.”

“I know, I know, but it’s
his
number.”

“I don’t get it,” Mari said, looking at us like we were all crazy.

“Come on, Mari, let’s go.” Elena hooked an arm around Mari’s shoulder and yanked her off in the direction of Lowe Stadium.

“The cat was out of the bag weeks ago. Do you have to get so hysterical?” Lydia scolded her best friend, cutting the conversation dead as we followed Elena and Mari into the crowds.

“So someone explain again how CFA gets to host the championship? It’s only a small stadium,” I said, breaking the silence.

“Marcus Donohue,” Lydia stated like it was a well-known fact.

“Care to expand?” I replied.

“Everything has a price, and apparently that extends to college division football…” Lydia launched into an analysis of Donohue’s influence over CFA, but I tuned her out. I should have known better than to ask. Of course, it all came back to Marcus Donohue. I was quickly learning everything always did.

The crowd started to thin as we drew near the stadium. The majority of students were already seated, eagerly anticipating the game. Elena navigated us to a separate entrance, reserved for the friends and family of the team. Somehow, Jackson had managed to score all of us seats. It meant we were seated directly behind the bench area.

The steward checked our names off a list and waved us through, shooting me a knowing glance. I ducked my head, embarrassed. The butterflies brushed my stomach making me feel a little queasy, the way they did whenever I was noticed in public. Wishing I had worn my jacket over the jersey, I wrapped my arms around myself. At least fewer people would have recognized me, but with number thirteen plastered all over me, I was like a neon beacon stating ‘Jackson Pierce’s property.’