Page 32 of Coach’s Son (Twin Cities #2)

Martha laughs in an easy professional manner. “Yeah, during the wedding planning process, you really get to know your clients. Your father has been one of my favorites to work with!” She says, as she makes her way inside the house to the patio doors.

I linger in the threshold, my hand gripping the doorknob. My gaze searching for a silhouette hiding in the hedges, but nothing yet… I click the deadbolt into place before one can appear.

It should bring relief. But it doesn’t. It only ratchets my anxiety to a higher cliff.

Drew wants me. He won’t stop until I satisfy him. But will he ever be satisfied?

I know he’ll keep on chasing me until I bend over to his will.

He owns me with his brand. A silly mistake that I should’ve rejected, but his trance over my mind at that time fucked up my head.

He was my savior in the moment that I needed one.

And now he wants to lock me in a cage and only let me loose with his permission.

My phone buzzes again—

King: I’m here. Parked on the street.

My heart flutters like a hummingbird’s as I read the text. I can either go to him or wait until the inevitable plays out at the doorstep. But I’d rather spare the girls from witnessing whatever chaos may transpire.

Me: Okay! Be there in a minute.

I shove my phone into my pocket, summoning a deep breath to flood my blood with some fresh oxygen. My pulse starts to race as I step out to the front yard, increasing with every step closer to his pitch-black Range Rover.

The sun is still shining, flooding the lush ivy-green brush with its ultraviolet rays. A stark contrast to the pit of darkness waiting for me.

As I veer off the driveway, leaving the gate unlocked, the breeze stirs against my cheeks, and there he is—parked like a mountain lion waiting to pounce on his prey. It’s impossible to see through his black tint. Is he inside the SUV or is he waiting to grab me from the back?

But he wouldn’t hurt me. I don’t think so, he’s obsessed with me. He would only hurt me in a way that I yearn for. Maybe grab me by the throat and hold me against the tree. Make me see crucifying, yet dazzling stars.

The thought sparks jerks of life in the worst possible spot at the worst possible time. Flares of frustration bloom against my thigh, stretching my underwear awfully snug. His presence sneaking in like poison ivy sullying my groin.

I pick up my pace to get this over with, my stride transforming into a trot. Whatever is going to happen is gonna happen. Might as well get this over with.

As I get closer to the midnight black windows, I can sense his omnipresence squirming into my sentiments, gallivanting inside my brain like a festering parasite.

My lungs take a lumbersome breath, before my knuckles rack across the driver’s window.

The blackness disappears as the glass rolls down tantalizingly slow. Drew greets me with furious brows.

“Oii. I’ve been waiting,” he rasps, his pupils serrating through me. “You know better than to keep me waiting this long, Lover Boy—”

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t interrupt me. Get in.” His gaze shifts to the passenger seat, the emptiness begging for me to fill it.

I keep my eyes peeled to the ground as I circle around the front of the Rover, opening the door that’s as dense as lead. My muscles using every ounce of remaining strength. My restraint to his darkness vanishing like the fleeting moment of an eclipse.

My body slides into the seat as his lips open to rip me apart. “You can’t avoid me.”

“I wasn—” I try to murmur as he shoves a couple of his fingers down my throat.

“Shhh…” He coaxes, the fingers advancing further. “I’ll have you whenever I say so.”

I nod my head in understanding, I can’t tell him no. I want to, but there’s another part of me that craves for another taste. For more of his fingers. For his fangs to inject themselves into my neck and moan me into submission. For his poison to drown my blood and spread my legs wide open.

My throat gags as his fingers tickle my uvula, scratching my throat. It should feel like a punishment. The way he pillages my mouth. But it doesn’t.

It feels like floating on the clouds. My head explodes with blissful booms, resembling dynamite blasting against bedrock.

Then the itch begins to overwhelm my lips, an unmistakable aura.

Saliva drying up in an instant. My tongue begins to tingle, feeling as if dozens of baby tarantulas are running to the back of my mouth.

Their fur, their squeals, their teeth run rampant.

I can sense the constricting of my throat.

Every organ system entering shock simultaneously.

“Did you—” I try to wheeze out.

“Austin!”

“Peanuts?” The word barely able to escape my closing airway.

“Aw fuck. Where’s your epi-pen?” He swarms my pockets, the sweltering black furnaces waver in his pupils, as if his whole world is being ravaged by impending catastrophe.

The channel of air in my throat feels like it has been reduced to the width of a thumbtack. All I can manage is a wheeze and a nod toward the house. My vision beginning to blur from the swelling.

Huh. How fricking ironic, the man I should have stayed away from. The one that saved me from the beasts of the woods, poisoned me with love—is the one that will kill me. Not by an accidental strangling or suffocation, but by lousy cross contamination.

“Hold on baby, I’m going to save you.” He revs the engine, arm gripped around my seat, his head jockeyed at the rear window. The Rover lurches back in reverse, my body lumping against the seat. Strength and consciousness rapidly draining from my being.

My pulse is beginning to lull. Death by anaphylaxis seems only certain.

Without oxygen, I’d only have a few minutes before my brain is starved of perfusion. Not enough time for emergency medical services to make it. My heart would be at a standstill by then.

Please—Kay or Alicia—please, please, please tell me you know where the fucking epi-pens are. I don’t remember any being in the house besides the ones that I carry in my duffel in case of an emergency.

The SUV screeches as he hastes us to the house, the vehicle nearly smashing into my father who’s carrying a glass vase of black and white roses.

“What the fuck!” My dad hollers, dropping the glass on the asphalt, the glass shattering in all directions. The black roses lay on the ground, surrounded by the shards, the perfect centerpiece for a funeral.

I imagine my burial, Drew and Charlie pinning to be the front pallbearers, clamoring for my empty body once my soul transcends upward.

Bickering in their accents, making a scene in front of the entire procession.

But maybe then I’d finally get some goddamn peace and quiet for once.

Who knows, maybe the afterlife wouldn’t be so terrible.

I could pick up crocheting… or pickleball to pass the time.

“He’s needs an epi-pen!” Drew screams like a banshee, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Hah. First time I’ve ever seen Drew Evans cry. And I won’t even get to tease him about it. That’s the cruel thing about dying—so many unspoken truths go untold. A blessing and a curse.

My lungs exhale a final wheeze, my vision turning black as I let myself rest. I faintly sense Drew’s talons attempting to shake my body, a few desperate pats on my sternum, as if chest compressions would reverse anaphylaxis.

I guarantee that man has never taken a first aid course in his life. However, it’s a sweet gesture, attempting to bring me back with his fruitless efforts.

He really does love me…

But the warm fuzziness of the oblivion is calling, singing sweet melodies of tranquility.

Lullabies calming me like I’m a babe in a cradle, rocking my head back and forth.

My mother’s voice whispering sweet ambrosia to my ears: It’s okay.

Everything will be okay baby boy. Just rest now.

You’ve been so strong. You deserve to be at peace.

I take a step forward. A stairwell of cloud mist appears in front of me with a golden gate at the peak. Birds chirp in harmonic song, fluttering in the air, chattering my name. Austin… Join us. Be free.

That sounds so nice. How can I resist? I wouldn’t even have to go to the wedding. That’s the real treat right there. Avoid my problems, even in death. I can’t say no to that offer.

But then the spitting image of Charlie pops into the step above me.

His beautiful brown irises meeting mine. Hair in a classic ruffle of a mess. His cheeky smile crashing through me, his lips opening. “I’ll always love you Austin.”

“I love you too Charlie,” I murmur to his phantom, the words sending a strike of epiphany through me.

I can’t leave Charlie without telling him. Without telling him that he’s the one. He’s the brother that I love. I want to apologize for everything. For the fucked-up cascade of events that happened between me and Drew. It was all an accident, an impromptu adventure of devastating consequences.

I turn my body to step back down the cloud mist, but the birds swarm around me in a uniform crescendo, talons clawing into my skin to carry me.

No…. No! Let me go! I try to shout but the words are muffled into the void as they flutter their wings in symphony.

I—I can’t leave yet. I need to go back… Tears begin to stream down my cheek. I’m so sorry Charlie.

Their beaks are leading me to the gates without hesitation, as if my fate has been decided by the heavens. Angelic light shimmering inside. A chorus of divine sweetness awaiting me. An endless paradise of rest and relaxation.

You didn’t deserve this… I never deserved you, Charlie. You are an angel on Earth. A shining diamond in a coal pit. You deserve someone good. Someone loyal enough not to roll over for your brother.

I’m hairs away from the gate, the silky trance sucking in my skin, when I feel a jolt in my thigh, and then another stab in the other. The birds fade, the gates disappear. The sweet chorus is replaced by shouts and screams.

“Dad, is Austin—” Kay wails and Alicia is sobbing loud enough to ripple the waves of Lake Minnetonka. My father’s eyes are glossy, holding a sniffling Jackson in his shoulder. Wow, Jackson actually cares enough about me to shed a few tears. Noted.

The sirens of the ambulance close in, echoing off the front of the house. The piercing pitch brings me to full consciousness. My heart races like a gazelle sprinting across the entire continent, ready to burst from my chest with a vengeance.

Every time. That epi shit is a fucking miracle. Haven’t needed it in years, but Christ it’s as potent as the musk of the locker room.

I let out a cough as my airway dilates, my lungs reacclimating to their normal rhythm of perfusion.

“Loverboy… You are back… I love you so m—” Drew tries to make out, sniffling runny mucous, before being cut off by the paramedics.

“Excuse me sir. We need to take him. You can talk to him after his assessment and stabilization at the hospital.”

“But—” he stammers.

“There’s no time right now. He was out of consciousness for far too long. Time is of the essence,” the medic barks.

Thank God. I can’t deal with Drew right now. Please take me away…

“Alright Sir, stare at this light.” The first responder flashes the small penlight in each of my pupils. “Good start. Pupils are equal and reactive to light… We can finish the assessment in the truck. We are heading to Regional’s. You all can see him there after he’s been admitted.”

They flop me onto the stretcher and bundle me into the back of the ambulance.

I offer Drew a weak smile and a wave as they slam the doors shut and resume the wailing sirens.

His face is simmering with betrayal like the doors cutting him off somehow represent my exact feelings of repugnance toward him.

That I didn’t insist that he come with… He’s overly possessive.

A man that knows no boundaries. One who wants to re-write them.

Extend them to his will and desire. And bend me over in more ways than one.

I’m sure he’s furious right now, probably pacing back and forth, foaming at the mouth like a dog with extreme separation anxiety and a case of rabies.

Just going crazy not knowing when his next bite will be.

But I don’t give a fuck anymore about his wishes. The bastard nearly killed me.

What if he hasn’t washed his hands since? He could send me right back to the footsteps of heaven.

If only Charlie was here, to hold my hand and murmur sweet nothings into my ear to make me chuckle. To bring me the simple joys of his warmth.

Would he forgive me though? I wouldn’t blame him if he’s had enough of me. Enough of the drama. The tattoo of his bastard twin that’s been burned into my skin with my consent.

How fucking stupid of me. I should have known better than to agree to get tattooed by the devil. The devil never forgets a contract signed in blood and flesh.

The paramedic tightens the cuff around my arm as he assesses my blood pressure. “Hold tight champ. You are in good hands.”

Not the hands that I want right now… Charlie please, please, please forgive me.

I need my Captain back.