Page 6 of 2-Point Conversion (Season of Change #5)

The first syllable out of Heacock’s fucking mouth was more than I cared to hear from that man.

And every word after only stoked that fire until it blazes out of control.

Oscar is confident in who he is, intelligent, and capable.

Heacock advanced, though, and Oscar backed up, his back against the lockers, and this protective instinct came over me.

I needed him gone ASAP; I needed him safe.

And now, like the predatory animal that serves as mascot for our university, I stalk my prey across the locker room until Heacock is trapped against the wall, his hands lifted in the air in front of him, as if that will save him from me.

“Brandon, son, calm down, I only meant to preserve—” I cut him off with my forearm pressing firmly across his throat.

His eyes widen in fear and sadistic pleasure drips like syrup inside me as he struggles against my hold.

He’s old, I’m young. He’s overweight and out of shape, and I’m benching more than half the team.

He knows he stands no chance of escaping me.

His mouth moves, probably pleading with me to let go, but no sound comes out.

I press a little harder on his windpipe, and lean closer to his ear.

“Your time at this university is coming to an end, Fred. It’s up to you whether you walk away or leave in a fucking body bag.

” I stand up and stare him in the eye. “I know which I’d prefer.

” His eyes flare but he remains quiet. “Oscar Kusner is off limits. You see him around, keep your head down and your mouth firmly shut. I find out you haven’t, I’ll be happy to shut it for you. ”

I step back and drop my arm from his throat. He sucks in oxygen, bending slightly as he catches his breath. He looks up at me and sneers. “I will have you arrested!”

I smirk, smooth out my t-shirt, and give him my back as I walk over to shut and lock my locker, practice will be starting soon, and the players should arrive any moment.

“Oh, yeah?” I question mockingly; he nods as his jowls shake.

“Who’s gonna believe you? I’m the nicest guy on campus, everyone’s friend.

You are a fucking asshole and enemy number one.

” I pat him on the shoulder as I pass him to leave. “Who’s house? My house.”