The sound of the doors closing echoed behind me as I headed for Coach Lyons office. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my determination for answers was because of justice or my own personal vendetta. Either way, he should have never been let back on the team. I didn’t give a damn what the law said. Not being proven guilty doesn’t make you innocent.
I made it to the other side of the school where Coach Lyon’s office was held. He was perched in his chair watching the tiny television and looking entirely too comfortable for someone who did a murderer favors. I knocked on the open door and stormed inside, not waiting for his acknowledgment or invitation. I closed the door behind me and stood in front of his desk.
He watched me calmly despite my having just invaded his space. “Coach Lyons, I need to talk to you.”
“Young lady, I should throw you out of my office. That is not the way you conduct yourself toward a member of the staff.”
Was he serious? Where was this guy’s autocracy during the last four years I was bullied mercilessly by his star player?
“So if I was able to dribble a ball, you would be willing to overlook it?”
“I will not tolerate—”
“Why is Keiran Masters back on the basketball team?” I demanded.
“I beg your pardon?”
“He is still being charged with the murder of two students. One of them played for your team. Did you forget that?”
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten, Miss Monroe, but what I do with my team is none of your concern.”
The man was a royal ass.
“The safety of the students should be your concern. You would sacrifice that for a championship?”
“He was allowed back into the school, which means he wasn’t considered a threat. You have no business coming into my office and demanding answers from me, you little bitch. I don’t answer to a child. Now get it out!” he bellowed. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on his chin as his face turned beet red.
Just as I was about to respond, Keiran’s deep voice sounded low from the door. “Monroe.”
My gaze flew to his tall form darkening the doorway. He wore a blank mask, but even so, I could sense the angry vibes emanating from his presence.
I knew he likely heard every word I had said and knew what I had tried to do. I actually started to feel guilty until I noticed his gaze wasn’t trained on me. He was staring down the coach who now sat back in his chair with a worried expression.
“Why did you follow me?” I asked accusingly.
“Wait for me outside.”
“I’m busy here.” I turned my head dismissively. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, but I stubbornly wanted to do it on my own terms.
“Do you really want me to touch you right now?” He spoke the words softly, but the threat had an even worse effect than if he had screamed them at me. Why was he so calm? I had just tried to get him kicked off the team so why hadn’t he lashed out?
“Fine.” I gave him a look that said this wasn’t over and attempted to move around him without touching, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm just as I passed him.
“Don’t go far,” he ordered.
I looked down at his large hand on my arm and suppressed the shiver of anticipation I could feel building when I remembered all the things he’d done to me with his hand and all the places he had touched.
“I’m sure touching is a violation of your release. Be careful, Masters. One might think you were attempting to intimidate a witness.”
He leaned close enough to whisper in my ear. “Any time you need me to intimidate you, baby, just say the word.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Keiran
I gently pushed her out of the office, shutting and locking the door behind me. Coach Lyons still sat slumped in his chair with a wary expression.
“Can you believe her, kid? She wanted me to take you off the team.”
“I heard.”
“You heard… Well, uh… how much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
He shifted in his chair nervously. “Listen, my temper got the best of me, but you should know I wouldn’t remove you from the team. I didn’t want you off in the first place, but it was out of my hands.”
He offered me a shaky smile as if his pitiful promises meant something to me and all would be forgiven. As if I hadn’t just heard him raise his voice at Monroe. As if he hadn’t just called her a bitch and nearly spit in her face.
“Let me make this quick because I have a frustrating female who needs my attention. What I just heard makes me want to cut your tongue out and make you choke on it.”
“Son, liste—”
“As I said… I heard enough. If you ever speak to her that way again, I’ll make your wife a widow early.”
I left him sputtering and red-faced in his office and went after my stubborn headache. I tracked her down just outside the cafeteria doors and quickened my steps to catch her. She knew I would come after her and as much as she pretended not to be afraid of me, she sought the safety of the cafeteria.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said when I grabbed her arm and dragged her in the direction we’d just come from.
“Let go of me, asshole.” I ignored her struggles and managed to pull her into an empty classroom without being caught. I was breaking every rule and taking too many chances even being near her, but fuck if she didn’t make it hard to break old habits.
Once safely hidden away, I slammed her back against a nearby wall, pushed up against her, and hid my face in her neck. If I looked into her eyes right now, I could ruin us both right here and now. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”
Her scent was making it hard to remember how we ended up here in the first place. All I could concentrate on was the fact I had her in my hands again. Two weeks cold turkey and I’d relapsed. It was about as much as I had expected.
She was fire and ice.
And she had me by the balls.
“I don’t owe you an explanation. I’m only trying to right a wrong.”
“Damn it, Monroe.” I reluctantly lifted my head from her neck and abandoned her scent. “You aren’t making this easy.” How could I stay away from her if she were constantly doing things to pull me back in?
“Stop calling me Monroe. My name is Lake, and I wasn’t aware I was supposed to make anything easy for you. Should I show you the same mercy you showed me?”
I grabbed her face with my hands and held her eyes. “I want you to realize what’s at stake here if you keep pushing me.”
“You never played fair before,” she whispered.
Fuck.
I let her face go. Those twinkling blue-green eyes were pure torture to my dick. “I don’t know what I want more—to kiss you or kill you.”
“Why did Coach Lyons let you back on the team?” she asked, blatantly changing the subject.
“He didn’t let me back on the team. He asked me to come back.”
“He actually sought you out?” Her body rocked against mine in outrage.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” I took a step back, needing to put space between us but not too much. She visibly relaxed as she watched me warily. I noticed her palms brace the wall at her side and every other second they would clench.
“You can’t mean the championship is that important?”
“It is for a lot of people.”
“Enough to overlook the fact that you’re a murderer?”
“I didn’t kill Trevor and Anya.”
“Maybe you didn’t light the match, but it doesn’t make you any less responsible.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“You continuously point fingers but conveniently forget that you are as much an accomplice.”
“I didn’t—”
I cut her off before she could make any more false claims of innocence. “Maybe you didn’t light the match but you knew and you didn’t say anything. Why?”