This Round I'm Yours (13 page)

Ten seconds to go.

Drew passed the ball back to Vasyl, who passed it back to Alexio.

Eight seconds to go.

Damian and Ivan, exchanging looks, changed tactics, becoming screens instead for—

Seven seconds to go.

Drew slashed his way inside the paint.

“Now,” Lace’s team captain roared.

Six seconds to go.

Everyone turned towards Ivan, allowing Alexio to pass to Drew.

Damian and Ivan immediately crowded in, preventing anyone from reaching Drew.

Five seconds.

Drew leapt up.

Four seconds.

Grant hit Drew’s hand just as Drew released the ball.

Three seconds.

“That’s a foul,” Lace screamed just as the referee blew his whistle.
   

Two seconds.

The ball went around the rim before falling inside.
 

Everyone screamed just as the announcer roared, “Christopoulos University wins!”

“You fucking bitch,” Alfred hissed. He was suddenly in her face, his face purple with rage. “You don’t know what you’ve done. You don’t fucking know who you’re messing with—”

“Careful with the words, man.”
 

Startled, Lace looked up and was unable to believe her eyes. It was Liam and all the other guys she had coached back in high school.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. She felt like something was happening, unfolding, but she was just so tired she couldn’t think straight.

Liam smiled. “Letting you know
everything’s under control
.”

“Let go of me,” Alfred gritted out. “This is fucking harassment, and I won’t stand…” His words died when he realized that the entire squad of Christopoulos University had joined them.

Two dozen grown men, all physically fit and itching to kick his ass.

Hatred burst inside Alfred as his plans started to crumble around him. “You fools,” he sneered, unable to stop himself. “You think this bitch is worth it?” He laughed wildly. “Once you see what I have, you’ll know she’s just a slut—”

Damian cracked his knuckles. “Call Coach like that again, and you’ll be my bitch.”

Lace choked. It was like a line straight out from an action B-movie, but she knew no one would feel even close to laughing, not when it was Damian saying it.

“You can say what you want, but we know you can’t make a move here, not with everyone looking,” Alfred sneered.

“Maybe they can’t,” a voice behind Alfred said coldly, “but I can.”

Lace started, unable to believe what she was hearing. A moment later, she saw her own brother walking forward, dressed in a black suit and towering over almost everyone. Almost as tall as Damian, Slade Wyndham cut a rather intimidating figure with his no-nonsense air about him and the chill in his voice.
 

Before Alfred realized what was happening, the two players holding him by the arm had let him go, only to find himself surrounded once more. This time, however, cuffs were also slapped around his wrists.

A badge was flashed in front of him.

Alfred whitened.

FBI.

A man stepped in front of him. “As these fine gentlemen will soon inform you, Mr. Cohen, you’re under arrest for game fixing. People you have colluded with, such as the team captains of Northwest, Ridgeway, and Blackwater College to name a few, have also been arrested and are, at the moment, singing like canaries.”

The man’s lips formed a smile that had Alfred swallowing. He had seen smiles like that before, and they all belonged to people who had the ability to kill cold-bloodedly.
 

“I’m not yet sure what hold you have over my sister, but whatever it is, I suggest you turn it over immediately. Cooperate, and you won’t suffer as much as you should. Refuse, and you will wish you were dead.”

Slade nodded at the men. “Take him away now.” When he was done talking, he turned to Lace.
 

“Let me guess,” she said immediately.

“Guess what?”

“What you’re going to say next?”

His dark blue eyes, which had earlier been as cold as ice, were now twinkling. “Then guess.”

“You’re going to tell me,” she said shakily, “that
everything’s under control
.”

He said simply, “Yes.” His eyes narrowed, and a moment later, he yanked Lace close to his side.

She started to ask why, but then she followed her brother’s gaze.

It was Ryan, the assistant team captain of Northwest, and he was heading her way, together with the rest of his teammates.

“Game fixing?” Ryan demanded. “Will you stop at nothing to get what you want?”

At his words, a circle reformed around him, composed of Lace’s current and former players.

“This is going to be overkill,” Kellion Argyros murmured as he took his place next to Ivan, “but I have also been asked quite nicely to make my presence felt if people from Northwest decide to make a scene.”

Something in his words made a bell ring in her head, but she had no time to think about it as she watched the entire Afxisi form behind its President.
 

Ryan shook his head. “What the hell is this? She’s not what you think,” he cried out. “How long are you all going to be blind—”

“Can you just tell me this, Jackson?” It was Drew who spoke, stepping forward to face Ryan head on. “I’ve always thought you were a good sort, which is why I don’t understand why you’re being such an asshole—”

“Because she deserves it,” Ryan spat.
 

Lace flinched at the look of hatred he sent her way. She wanted to be mad at Ryan, but she couldn’t. Even after everything, she just couldn’t.

“We were all like you once, until we realized she was just playing nice, like Grant said. All she cared about was to make her track record look good—”

“Cut to the chase,” Alexio growled.

“An overpassionate idiot,” Ryan shot back.

Lace whitened.

Ryan smiled bitterly. “You remember that? It’s what you called me. I’m the guy who helps you out with your lab reports, and you didn’t just call me that. You had the fucking gall to write it in my performance review—”

Liam began to laugh. “Is that it?”

Ryan lunged towards him. “Asshole!”
 

Lace gasped. She moved to stop the two from fighting, but Slade held her back.
 

“Basketball’s my life,” Ryan snarled even as he threw a wild punch at Liam.

“So it is, but…” Liam blocked his punch easily. Stepping back, he demanded, “Is that reason enough for her not to say it like she’s supposed to? You’re actually lucky because she was a lot harsher back in high school.” He turned towards his old team. “Kenny, what did Coach say about you before?”

Kenny grimaced. “Always bad at dribbling, but great at free throws.”

“And you, Pete?”

“Keeps getting injured like a baby so I better drink more milk.”

Liam looked back at Ryan. “Back then, she didn’t even write anything. She’d tell it to our face then have it emailed to the entire cheerleading squad.”

Ryan was beginning to show signs of uncertainty. “It’s not the same—”

Liam shook his head. “Coach?”
 

“Yeah?” Lace had a hard time speaking, all her efforts used up in her fight to remain in control and without tears. Now, it was finally clear why Ryan and the other guys in Northwest had suddenly hated her.

“What did you write about this guy?”

Her gaze clashed with Ryan. “Ryan Jackson is an overpassionate idiot. He cares so much about his basketball, his girlfriend might as well be jealous of it. He will always let his emotions get the better of him.” Her voice caught as the hostility in Ryan’s gaze faded and was replaced by confusion.
 

Swallowing, she continued doggedly, “But that’s also his good point. If the team’s suffering from a huge deficit, you can expect Ryan to rally the team’s spirit. He’s the one to count on if you need a miracle.”

“Do you understand now, Jackson?” Liam asked quietly. “This coach, while bad at reading anything not related to basketball, pretty much has a photographic memory when it comes to her players. Because this person thinks of us oversized dudes as her kids.”

“What we read, it was all bad things,” Ryan protested, but his voice was less sure now, less antagonistic.

“Let me ask you a question,” Kellion drawled. “Because one thing’s been bothering me from the start. Aren’t performance reports supposed to be between the management and the coach alone? So how did you get access to those reports?”

It was the moment the penny dropped.

“We got it from Grant,” Ryan whispered.

“And Grant happens to be the nephew of the head of their athletic department,” Lace finished numbly. All those months of suffering…and Grant had been the one behind it, Grant deliberately turning everyone against her, and she hadn’t even suspected.

“I’m sorry,” Lace heard Ryan say hoarsely.

She nodded, unable to look at Ryan. She had a feeling if she did, she would really cry, and she just didn’t want to do that.

As she concentrated on breathing, just breathing and
not
crying, she found herself hugged by KC. “Reverse harem
overload
,” her friend whispered.

Lace laughed. Trust her best friend to say what she needed to hear.

When she pulled away, Aria had her board ready.
YOU ARE SO LOVED.

Lace laughed harder, knowing that Aria had only said it because she was sure Lace would hate to have herself described in such a way.

When they were alone in her brother’s car, she only had to look at Slade and he already knew.

“You want to know why everything’s under control?”

Slowly, she nodded.

“I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I think you need a little wake-up call about your inferiority complex.”

Lace winced.

“Ever since you were young, you hated asking for help. Just because people think I’m self-sufficient and able to do everything, it doesn’t mean it’s true. And even if it was, it doesn’t mean it has to be true for you.” His eyes narrowed. “You understand that now, don’t you?”

She said rawly, “I don’t think it’s a lesson I’ll ever forget.”

Slade’s face sobered. “I guess not.” Frustration rose inside him, Slade wishing there was something he could do to ease his sister’s pain. He wanted to ask her what happened but he didn’t, knowing that Lace would never be the kind to share her weakness. Not when she knew it would only make another person hurt.

In many ways, Lace was the gentlest person he had ever known, someone who would rather suffer than have anyone experience pain.

He had always worried about her because of that, but after last night…

Slade had known he finally had someone else to trust, someone as capable as him to look after his sister.

“Last night, a man by the name of Silver March came to me. He told me he was your boyfriend, and…” His lips twisted. “You can imagine how I initially reacted.”

“You tried beating him up?” Lace gasped.

“He allowed me a punch, but after that, Silver got down to business rather swiftly. He told me to get all the dirt I can about Grant – your former player – and the reporter, Alfred Cohen. He said you had a problem you didn’t want
him
to know about or help you with so he asked…” Slade paused and shook his head. “No, that’s not right. He offered to
beg
actually—”

No.
Lace almost wanted to cover her ears. She couldn’t bear the thought of Silver begging, not after how fiercely she had protected her own pride.