Page 51 of Mr. Irrelevant (Rock City Renegades #1)

THIRTY-EIGHT

MADDOX

“What kind of well-paid athlete doesn’t have a gate in front of his house?

” Jett asks as we walk down Underwood’s driveway.

It’s past two in the morning, but it took a while to come up with a solid plan after watching Theo’s video.

We settled on taking an Uber to a random bar in the city and making the rest of the trek on foot.

We figured four professional football players having celebratory drinks would draw less attention than being dropped off at the house of the guy one of us beat the shit out of earlier this season.

Plus, we were prepared to scale some fences when we arrived, but he lives in an ungated community, which made it easy to enter without being noticed.

“I can’t believe he let Livvy stay here,” I say quietly, the idea of anyone having access to her making me irrationally angry.

I know it’s ridiculous to assume she couldn’t take care of herself, but that doesn’t stop my protective instinct from cataloguing every way I’d kill someone for touching a hair on her beautiful head .

We tread up the stone walkway, climbing the steps as adrenaline races through my body.

If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I can’t go back to Cleveland and tell Liv that her ex has all of our private texts, photos, and videos, and that I wasn’t able to shield her from him sharing them with whoever he wanted to.

I have to prove to her that she’s safe with me—that she can trust me with every part of herself.

I shake my arms out and stretch my neck from side to side before reaching forward and pressing the button in front of me.

A muffled chime sounds in response, and we wait silently for several seconds before the entryway lights up behind the frosted glass window.

My heart pounds like a drum in my chest, every muscle in my body wound tight and ready to pounce as the door swings open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Deacon grunts, his messy hair and tired eyes telling us that we definitely woke him up.

He’s clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs as he stands there with a pissed off sneer lifting one corner of his mouth.

His face is so goddamn punchable, especially after today, but I hold myself back.

I don’t want shit to get violent. I just want what I came for.

“I’m here for Livvy’s iPad,” I offer, hoping like hell that he’ll just give it up without a fight so we can get out of here. But of course, he doesn’t make it easy, rolling his eyes and scoffing loudly.

“Not happening, Dane,” he says on a laugh.

“I put up with that stuck-up bitch for over a year, listening to her talk about how she could help me step up my game just because her daddy was a coach. She always acted like she was better than everybody else, but just wait until the world sees her tied up and taking loads to the face like a slut.”

“Motherfucker,” I grit through clenched teeth, lunging in his direction without a second thought.

I’m on autopilot, ready to kill him with my bare hands before an iron set of arms wraps around me from behind.

Stumbling for a moment, I regain my footing, thrashing around wildly in an attempt to break free.

I’m fueled by pure rage, like a heat-seeking missile prepared to obliterate its target, barely registering the sound of Emmett’s voice as he struggles to hold me back.

“Don’t!” he says, turning to Theo. “Show him the video!”

Theo steps up, pressing play on his phone. At first, Deacon acts unaffected, widening his stance as he crosses his arms over his chest. But as soon as he realizes what he’s seeing, he goes completely rigid.

All the fury that was running rampant throughout me moments ago fades away, my muscles relaxing enough for Emmett to loosen his hold.

I stand up straight, enjoying the blank expression that melts across Deacon’s face as he witnesses a full drug deal—one where he was the buyer—taking place in front of his very eyes.

A menacing smile creeps across my cheeks, satisfaction washing over me when he realizes he’s not only on camera buying performance-enhancing drugs in the locker room, but taking them , as well.

The playback ends, and he looks up, the fear behind his eyes giving me everything I need to stay rooted where I stand.

“I’ve been beating myself up for years for not taking this shit to the coaching staff in college,” Theo says.

“Who knew I’d get my chance years later?

You have two choices right now. Either give us the iPad, or I upload the whole video to the internet right now.

Every bullshit record you ever broke will be scrubbed from the books at UGA, and you’ll forever be known as the guy who only made it to the league because he was juiced up. ”

Deacon swallows, the shame and humiliation radiating from his six-foot-two frame making him look smaller than ever. I wish Liv could be here to see it. She fucking deserves it after everything he put her through.

“Wait here,” he croaks. “I’ll be right back.” As soon as he’s out of sight and the door closes shut behind him, we let out a collective breath, our eyes bouncing back and forth between one another.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jett blurts, a shocked laugh bursting from his chest. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Did you see his face? I thought he was going to shit his pants,” Emmett adds. “Nice touch with the line about his records being scrubbed. I didn’t even know he had any.”

Theo chuckles. “He only had two, and they were literally bullshit. One was for his bench press at spring conditioning, and the other was for his squat, but he tied with another guy who wasn’t taking steroids.”

“Impressive,” Jett says, sarcasm dripping from his tone. We laugh in response, turning our attention to Deacon as the door inches back open.

“Here,” he murmurs, extending the device toward me. I reach out, swiping it from his grip before closing the distance between us. My jaw clenches, but I take a deep breath, Livvy’s face in the back of my mind keeping me calm.

“From here on out, don’t even think about contacting her.

If you see her at an event, you’d better turn and walk away.

As far as she’s concerned, you don’t fucking exist. You never did.

” My nostrils flare, fingers flexing at my sides as I continue to hold my anger at bay.

“Slip up once, you piece of shit. This video will be everywhere, and your cheating ass will be out of a job when the Impact figures out that you know how to beat a drug test. Do you understand?”

He clenches his jaw, eyes refusing to make contact with mine as he nods tightly.

A condescending laugh bubbles up my throat, and I take a step back, dragging my tongue over my bottom lip slowly.

He cowers, lowering his head for a beat before retreating into the house and closing the door behind him.

Relief flows through me like electricity, the weight of the iPad in my hand a welcome reminder that the woman I love will never have to face another broken heart as long as she lives.

We walk back the way we came, a little extra pep in our step as we return to the bar, deciding maybe a celebratory drink is in order after a night of wins. Taking out my phone for the first time tonight, I find a missed text from Liv that makes my heart squeeze tightly in my chest.

LIVVY:

I’m so fucking proud of you. I love you and can’t wait to celebrate together. Now, hurry home and get this final checkmark, Daddy.

ME:

On my way. I love you, Dimes.