Soft Like Thunder: A Dark College Romance

“Amir,” she breathed.

“Right. Amir. I took what he gave me blindly. Injected it straight into my muscles without concern for the consequences. The only consequence I gave a shit about was being shipped back to my old life. I was all wrestling, every hour of my life was focused on the goal of being the best, ensuring my dad had a reason to keep me here. I lost Abby, but I kept going and going until I ended up in the hospital with what I thought was a heart attack. It wasn’t, but it was a wake-up call. Because what was the point of turning myself into a weapon if my own blade was being shoved deeper into my chest with every stride I made?”

“Theo, you don’t have to tell me this.”

Taking her by the shoulders, I spun her to face me. “I need you to understand why I get it. I’m going to make it so you never have to strip again, but I also want you to know I get why you had to.”

Her eyes met mine. They were so damn pretty, yet so damn sad. “When Amir told me about the doping, I was disappointed in you.”

I nodded, taking the weight of the way I’d let her down onto my shoulders. “That’s fair. If I were a better man, I’d send back every trophy I ever won. All my victories are unclean. I’m not going to say I didn’t deserve them, because I trained my body like a machine, sacrificed almost everything, and I was damn good, but I’ll never know if I would have won without the drugs.”

Something hard in her expression fell away. “I’m an asshole for being disappointed. I realize that now. I have no room to judge you for doing what needed to be done to survive. And I guess that includes dumping me—”

“Shut up, Helen. There’s no excuse for how I treated you. Don’t give me an out. I won’t take it, not when I haven’t proven to you I’m willing to stand by you and stand up for you. I asked you for soft, but the second I needed to give you strong, I failed. That won’t happen a second time.”

She shoved at my shoulder. “Hey, Theo, a good way to never get back in my good graces is to continue telling me to shut up.”

I swallowed back a laugh. “Normally, I’d kiss you, but you told me we’re not kissing yet.”

“We’re not. And don’t say yet like I’m a foregone conclusion. I have a lot going on in my head right now. I can’t make any kind of decisions. You’re telling me all these things, and I want to believe them, but I don’t have it in me to trust pretty promises. So, now I’m thinking about going to work looking like I got hit by a bus wondering if I’ll have to get on stage again because Daniel stole the little cushion I had—”

“Whoa, whoa, back up. Daniel? What are you talking about?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Remember I told you the company you keep says a lot about you? That asshole you call a friend snuck into my room while I was sleeping, felt me up, and stole my stash of cash I needed to pay Reno.”

Something came over me. A maelstrom of sizzling violence that made my skin feel ten times too small. Electricity charged through the air, sparking every time I took a breath.

Daniel. Touched. My. Girl.

“He’s dead.” I tore away from Helen, ripping her door open and storming for the exit. She was on my heels, calling my name, asking me to wait, but I’d waited long enough. She wouldn’t let me go after Reno, fine. Daniel was another story. If she truly thought I’d let this stand, she hadn’t been paying attention.

Lock was in the hall, poised to knock. “Helen?” he ground out.

“Stop him, Lock.” Helen grabbed the back of my shirt like she had a chance of doing more than slowing me down. “Or go with him. He’s going to kill him.”

I jabbed a finger at Lock. “If you attempt to stop me, we are not going to be cool. Helen just told me a guy I live with touched her and stole her money, which led to,” I waved at my battered girl, “this. I can’t let that go. I don’t have it in me.”

Lock’s hand came down on my shoulder. “I’m with you.” He pointed to Helen. “Go back inside. Lock the door. One of us will be back when we can.”

Helen grabbed for me, her eyes wide and shiny. “This isn’t worth risking your future over. If you get arrested, I’ll never forgive you.”

I took her jaw in my hand, throwing every ounce of control I still had in keeping it gentle. “You make it easy to light the match, Tiger. Now watch me make it burn.”





Chapter Twenty-six





Theo





As Lock drove us across campus, his fury at what Helen had gone through, the way she’d been violated over and over, fed into mine. I was barely able to contain it all. My chest felt swollen, near cracking. My throat burned to bellow the rage churning inside me.

Lock’s teeth had to be ground to dust by the time he parked half on the lawn, half on the curb in front of the house. A few guys were hanging on the porch, probably still drunk from the night before. I grabbed the first guy who crossed my path. Dick was his name. Or Colin. It didn’t matter.

“I need you to get Daniel. Tell him he’s wanted outside,” I ordered.

Colin shrugged at my demand and sauntered into the house, calling out Daniel’s name. Beside me, Lock cracked his knuckles and his neck.

A minute later, Daniel emerged, dressed in boxers, slippers, and a silk robe. He had a joint pinched between two fingers and a glass of orange juice in the other hand.

“Wow, what’s the drama, Whitlock?” He practically stumbled down the steps. “Isn’t it too early for this kind of thing?” He gestured to Lock with his cup-filled hand, spilling OJ over the top. “And what’s with the lumberjack? Is he your hired muscle?”

My hands flexed at my sides. “You know why I’m here.” Not a question. He obviously knew.

He leaned an elbow against the bottom rail. “This wouldn’t have something to do with the practical joke I played on that stripper, would it? I’m impressed with how much money she earned off her sweet little body. It’s all upstairs in my room. Why don’t I go grab it and you can stuff it in her G-string? I heard she likes that.”

“A joke?” I growled. “Was it a joke when you were feeling her up in her sleep?”

He chugged his orange juice, tossed the glass in the bushes, and sauntered closer. “Perhaps my sense of humor is more refined. I thought it was pretty fucking hilarious that your stripper girl was insulted about me copping a feel. I suppose I should have thrown some ones at her first. Is that what you do? Or do you have to shell out the big bucks for full service?”

Daniel was puffing on his joint when I swung at him, connecting solidly with the side of his head. The joint fell, and he staggered to the side, bouncing off Lock’s puffed-out chest.

The guys on the porch took notice of what was going on, some getting up to come closer, others dashing inside, no doubt to alert the house of what was going down on the lawn.

He cupped his cheek, twisting an ugly look at me. “Oh, you’re dead, Whitlock. Daddy won’t save you now.”

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