She walked forward and I hissed, “Guess who’s hosting the fucking SEC Division Championship dinner two days after we get back from the game in Georgia?”
“Oh no, baby—” she whispered and her hands immediately went to protect her stomach. I don’t think she even realized what she’d done, but that action alone had me dying inside—she feared what my folks were going to do to our child.
“It’s a fuckin’ joke! They’ve never given a shit about football my whole life and now they suddenly volunteer to host the biggest dinner of the year… at the plantation? It’s a fuckin’ trap to get us there, Mol!”
She tried to comfort me, to get closer, but I couldn’t let her. I was so damn livid. Couldn’t have her trying to soothe me.
“Romeo, you need to calm down! Half the college is out front. You’ve beat a teammate to a pulp—”
At the mention of that fucker, my skin pricked. “He fuckin’ deserved it. He started spouting shit about you… to me! He had a fuckin’ death wish the minute he opened his stupid mouth!”
“I don’t care what the hell he said about me. Look at the state of you! You’re acting insane!”
Was she kidding? Didn’t she realize why things were so bad, why I was so riled up? “My parents have staged this whole thing. Remember last time, the way they attacked us? This is just a more elaborate trap. They knew I’d never go back voluntarily. Coach has agreed to it. They’ve already invited the governor, mayor, and a million other boosters who’ve all eagerly accepted. They made sure the college couldn’t refuse! Fuck!”
Molly moved to the bench out of the way of my warpath, and facing her, I stated, “We’re not going. There’s no fuckin’ way you’re going to them in your condition.”
I couldn’t take my eyes off my girl as a hand rubbed across her tired head. She went on and tried to convince me to go, even going so far as to offer to stay at home. But there wasn’t a chance. Didn’t she know how much I needed her?
Moving before her, I said, “No! No fuckin’ way! Why shouldn’t you be there with me? The college needs to change the venue. Fuck my parents. I know them, Mol. Something is going on, I just know it, and I won’t have them destroying my family—I’m over their mind games.”
Loving sympathy flooded her features and I breathed deep, using Mol’s presence to calm me—she always calmed me—and I could tell I was upsetting her being so charged up. I walked slowly to where she sat and, dropping to my knees, laid my head on her lap, pressing kisses to her stomach. “If they find out about our little angel in there, fuck knows what they’ll do. I can’t lose you both.”
Soft hands ran through my hair and I used the touch to lose the rest of my rage.
“Romeo, I understand why you’re like this, but it’s one party, with hundreds of people around. They won’t do anything so publicly. They wouldn’t want the embarrassment. I’ll stay by your side the whole night. They won’t have a chance to get to me. You’ll protect me. I know you will.”
I would, with my life if needs be.
Molly set to cleaning me up, caring for me like she always did. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if they hurt you or our little angel, baby,” I said.
She took my face in her hands and insisted, “Nothing will happen.”
I felt like I was six again, trapped under my parents’ hold. For the last few months I’d been happy, and in one fell swoop, they managed to drop me back to being the abused kid they’d ripped on for years.
I could feel the tears, but I couldn’t stop. “Why do they always have to interfere? We’re doing so good. You’re healthy, our baby’s going strong, and the Tide’s the clear winner of the SEC Western Division and heading to the National Championship. Then they come in with their plotting and scheming, ruining my life again. I’m telling you, it’s all rigged. They’re planning something. Something big.”
I knew it, could just feel it within me.
“They’re powerful people, Romeo. The party won’t be moved. We need to go and put on a united front. You need to be a leader for your team.”
I held her tightly. Then, inching back, she said softly, “You really lost it.”
I knew I’d fucked up again, so I told her about the conversation I had with Coach, what he’d tried to do for me.
As she continued to clean me up, she shook her head and said curtly, “I don’t like it when you lose control. You need to be better than this, Romeo. I don’t want to have to worry about your temper, especially when the little one arrives.”
I fucking loved this girl. Here we were, in a wrecked gym, my body covered in blood, and she was still trying to make me a better man, still admonishing me for my bad behavior.
I couldn’t help but smile wryly.
“What?” she asked, confusion contorting her beautiful face.