Wildcard a westbrook eli.., p.18
Wildcard : A Westbrook Elite Standalone, page 18
FYI, Landry doesn’t count. She didn’t slip in through a crack. She didn’t break down my walls. She didn’t have to. She was such a little siren that I vaulted all my own wards and ran in her direction.
I half expected him to kick me out when I walked into the locker room for practice. My hackles were raised as I opened my locker, preparing to see all my shit already gone.
Everything was there. Elite talked and laughed around me like they weren’t in the presence of a murder suspect. I guess as far as they knew, they weren’t. And I just stood there in the center of it all and stared at my shit.
Coach said nothing. Hell, Walsh didn’t either.
So I’d put on my Speedo and was currently swimming laps like everyone else. Today, I was swimming butterfly. It was the hardest, most intense stroke. I chose it because I craved a punishing workout.
By the time my main set was finished, my back and shoulders were quivering. Hanging on the edge of the pool, I swiped some of the water off my face and contemplated another lap.
“Bro, nice swimming.”
I glanced up at Owens who was in the lane next to me.
“I’m still better, though.”
“Fuck off, Owens,” I said with a lot less heat than usual.
He didn’t take the hint and get lost. Bro never did. “You know, if you stuck to one stroke, you’d probably dominate,” he commented, throwing his arms over the lane rope to stare at me through the goggles still strapped over his eyes.
It was something coaches had been telling me for years. It was also the reason some coaches wouldn’t work with me at all. Swimmers were supposed to have one concentration. I knew I’d probably be the best in whatever I chose just like Jamie said. I didn’t give a shit.
“I’d rather be good at everything than just one thing,” I told him.
Jamie grinned, his cheeks bunching up around the goggle frames. “Spoken like a true wildcard.”
“Why the hell are you two over here looking like a pair of expired coupons?” Coach snapped, appearing above us.
“Expired?” Jamie guffawed. “I’m in my prime.”
Coach ignored him. “Rush! What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Just catching our breath,” I offered, not even looking at him.
I wondered what he’d say if he knew his daughter spent the entire day in my bed. I had no urge to rub it in his face, though. Landry wasn’t a weapon. I’d never use the fact that she saw something in me no one else did to stick it to Coach. It meant too much to me. She meant too much to me.
“Oxygen ain’t welcome here!” Coach snapped. “Underwaters! Now!”
Jamie groaned but hitched his chin at me. “C’mon, bro. Race ya.”
He dipped under the water, and I joined him, turning away from Coach completely.
Underwaters are a swimmer’s fifth stroke. Improving underwater swimming is a key component to helping any swimmer go faster. It’s also good for push-off strength. Keeping a tight, streamlined position is important and requires a lot of body control.
Even though I was tired, I propelled myself forward while undulating my lower body in a wave-like manner while keeping my upper body rigid with my arms stretched above my head. Beside me, Jamie did the same, and we swam toward the other end of the pool.
Coach must have told everyone to swim underwaters because, soon, everyone around us was doing the same. I stayed focused on my own lane, my own swim, reminding myself it didn’t matter what anyone else was doing.
Which was probably why he was able to sneak up on me. Why I didn’t see him invade my lane until he knocked against me. Still holding position, I jolted, glancing over as a stream of bubbles rose from my lips.
Behind my favorite silver-framed goggles, I narrowed my gaze. I knew it was Walsh instantly despite the fact we literally all looked the same down here with goggles, swim caps, and matching swimwear.
We all had different vibes, and his always pissed me off. I flung my hand, giving him a WTF gesture. He pointed to the surface and kicked, heading up.
I went because I was curious. The instant my head cleared the surface, I sucked in a breath, then spit out the water dripping into my mouth. “What?” I spat in the direction where he treaded water.
He didn’t look at me, though. He was gazing across the pool, toward the deck. His attention focused on whatever was there. The energy around him was the same as always when he felt like he had to defend Elite.
I spun, water rippling around me, to look in the same direction. I was unprepared for the punch to my chest, the way all the air in my lungs instantly whooshed out. My arms faltered, making my body dip a bit under the water before I remembered to swim.
A low buzzing filled my head like the steady hum of static on a busted TV. Memories played on the backs of my eyelids, a montage of everything I had and everything I lost. The pain was sharp but somewhat dulled by the panic and confusion overwhelming my operating system.
I never in a million years would have expected to see who was standing there.
I’d never expected to see him again.
“If disappointment was a person, then it would be you.”
“It should have been you and not her!”
“You’re dead to me.”
The last words he’d hurled at me echoed in my head, still as sharp and painful as when he first said them. Maybe they wouldn’t have hurt as much, left thick scars no one could see but I felt every minute of every day, if anyone else had said them.
But it wasn’t anyone else. It was my brother. Bodhi Lawson. The person I was closest to in this life. Keyword: was.
I’d walked away that day, raw and bleeding, hoping my blood somehow made his pain more bearable. I hadn’t seen him since.
Until this moment. Until Walsh summoned me from the peace of underwaters to the storm brewing on dry land.
“He’s here for you, right?” Walsh spoke for my ears only, almost as if he knew I’d just thought of him.
“How’d you know?” I asked, my voice strained.
“Just a feeling.”
Bodhi was staring, a familiar face but the glare of a stranger. I couldn’t read his expression, more proof that I didn’t know him anymore. Maybe I never did.
I felt his eyes as I made my way to the edge of the pool. They never left me when I hauled out and started his way. As I walked, I felt the silence in the pool area. I felt the stares of Elite. Hell, even Coach was quiet.
My skin crawled with trepidation. Confrontation. Shock. I worked on shoring up that armor I’d mentioned I realized had a crack. It couldn’t fail me right now.
Water dripped off me and my bare feet slapped over the pool deck as I slid the goggles from my eyes up onto my head. Bodhi’s blue eyes flickered as he watched me approach, his jaw bouncing as though seeing me pissed him off.
If he didn’t want to look at me, he shouldn’t have come here.
His hair was longer than the last time I saw him. He’d always favored it slightly long, but now it was full-on surfer dude, the dirty-blond locks long enough that he wore it pulled back in a low ponytail at his neck. He was thinner than I remembered. He’d always had to work to keep up his muscle mass, so I assumed he wasn’t doing that work.
His twin is dead. He’s had other things on his mind.
“Bodhi,” I said, stopping a short distance from him. It wasn’t at all the greeting we’d shared half our lives. Before, we’d be up in each other’s business, high-fiving or one-arm hugging. It wouldn’t have been “Bodhi” back then either but brah.
Yeah, Elite might say bro, but in Cali, it was brah.
He crossed his arms over his chest, sapphire eyes narrowing. “You still use those goggles.”
I shrugged.
It must not have been the reaction he wanted because he stiffened, arms falling to take on a defensive position. “You’ve got some nerve.”
My heart rate was rapid, and adrenaline spiked in my system in anticipation of a fight. Despite the tension, I kept my body relaxed. “For using something that was given to me?”
Bodhi’s nostrils flared, and his California chill evaporated like it was never there. “You son of a bitch,” he snarled and lunged at me.
I was ready to defend myself. Defense was an automatic reaction when I saw him now. But I didn’t get that far because he was intercepted. A body came around mine in a blur and bulldozed into him, shoving him back.
The bright-blond hair caught my eye first, and I blinked as Lars shoved Bodhi back, his back muscles tightening with the action. “Back off,” he warned.
For a second, I was momentarily stunned because Lars was not a fighter. In fact, confrontation made him anxious. But here he was, jumping right to my defense.
Bodhi’s face darkened, and a look I recognized from the day he came to pound my face flashed over it. Urgency filled my lungs, tightening my chest.
Bodhi leaped toward Lars, and all the charged quiet in the room erupted. Water splashed. Swimmers shouted. Coach’s whistle peeled through the air at an ear-piercing pitch.
I rushed forward, grabbing Lars around the waist to pull him back and spin. My entire body was stiff, ready for the blow meant for my friend. Lars stumbled a bit, but I locked my arms around him, not even noticing how our wet, bare skin slapped together as I hauled him away and used my body as a blockade against Bodhi’s anger.
It was one thing for Bodhi to use me as a punching bag but something else entirely to go at Lars.
The hit I was anticipating never came, and I realized I’d been so focused and in my head that I’d blocked out all the chaos around us. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Win planted in front of us, emanating a dark aura he rarely ever showed. The T-shirt he was wearing seemed to strain against his broad back and biceps like they were suddenly swollen with aggression. His hand pressed against Bodhi’s chest, not necessarily restraining him but more out of warning. He didn’t have to restrain my old friend because someone else already was.
Walsh had both Bodhi’s arms pinned behind his back, holding him out like an offering for Win. Win wasn’t even a swimmer, but he was Elite. This semester, he was interning with the team for physical therapy clinical hours.
Bodhi jerked against Walsh’s hold, but Ryan merely tightened his grip. A split-second urge to defend Bodhi slammed into me, its intensity making spots swim before my eyes. I blinked, reminding myself it wasn’t my job to defend Bodhi anymore and that he’d just gone at Lars.
Realizing I was still holding on to him, I pulled back. “You okay? Did he hit you?”
Lars’s face darkened. I knew he was annoyed that we’d all jumped to his defense. He could defend himself. Hell, we spent time in the gym making sure of it. But he’d been through too much. Taken far too many hits in life already. I’d be damned if I stood around and watched him take more in my name.
The mere fact that he was so willing to do so only made me more determined to protect him.
“He went at you, not me,” Lars replied.
“Lars. What did I tell you about getting in the middle of fights?” Win intoned, clearly listening to our exchange.
Lars huffed.
“Lars,” he warned again.
I glanced back at Win who still had his hand pressed against Bodhi like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hit him or not.
“I’m not going to stand here and watch someone take shots at my best friend.” Lars was definitive.
His words were a shot of their own. Best friend.
Lars and I were close, but did he really think that much of me? Would he still if he knew why Bodhi hated me?
I stood there stupefied. Unable to say a word.
“Best friend,” Bodhi spat. “You wouldn’t call him that if you really knew him.”
That hit its mark.
“We do know him,” Walsh intoned. “He’s Elite.”
He was like a damn broken record. Elite this. Elite that. Kinda appreciated it right then, though.
“You telling my angel he has bad taste in friends?” Win said, his voice deadly calm. He was one of the most laid-back people on this side of the country, but even looking at Lars cross-eyed turned him feral. “Because insulting his judgment is just as bad as trying to hit him.”
Squueaaaaal. Coach cut into the conversation, the whistle falling against his chest as he stepped in. “Hands off, Sinclair,” he told Win. “You too, Walsh.”
Bodhi pulled away from the two guys, straightening to his full height, which wasn’t near Walsh’s and Win’s six-foot statures. Bodhi was five-eight on a good day.
“Who are you?” Coach interrogated. “What makes you think you can just waltz into my practice like you belong here?”
Bodhi crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin, obstinance written on his tanned face. The long hair and ponytail made him look even more like a surfer dude than before. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
The vein in Coach’s temple throbbed. “This is my pool!”
“And this is my business.”
Coach’s back expanded with his ire. “Listen here, you little shit. You made it my business when you stepped in here.”
“Just tell us why you’re here.” A reasonable, calming voice chimed in.
I stiffened immediately, body automatically rotating to where Landry stood. In her hand was a clipboard and stopwatch. She was wearing the green windbreaker, but beneath it was my Aerosmith tee.
Just seeing her in the same space as Bodhi was like witnessing a head-on collision between my present and past. The collision was so violent it had the opportunity to rob me of my future.
Leaving Lars’s side, I went to hers, gently curling my hand around her elbow. “Go in the locker room,” I told her.
She glanced at me sharply. She had that bratty look in her eyes. “Did you forget I’m the assistant coach here?”
My patience snapped like a whittled-down thread. “Does it look like I give a damn?” I bit out.
Shock registered on her face before her eyes narrowed.
“Did you just raise your voice at the assistant coach?” Coach just had to go and flap his lips.
I swung toward him. “You know damn well she’s a hell of a lot more than that to me, and if I’m telling her to get the hell out of here, you might realize there’s a damn good reason!”
Silence blanketed the room.
Jamie, of course, was the one to break it. “Kruger, bro, you missed your shot. Rush already claimed her.”
“Shut up, Jamie!” Coach, Landry, and I all yelled at the same time. Then Coach turned to stare at Kruger who hovered nearby. “Really, Kruger? Like hell I’d let you date my daughter.”
Landry sighed. “Dad.”
“Like Rush is any better.” Kruger defended himself. “All this just ‘cause I asked her if she was single.”
“You two are a thing?” Bodhi said, taking a step forward.
The second he moved, Lars, Ryan, Jamie, and Win did too.
“Lars,” Win warned, shooting him a hard stare. Then his eyes snapped to the other side. “Wesley.”
Ah, I hadn’t seen Wes move in. The gang was all here.
Wait. Prism… I glanced around. There he is.
Bodhi ignored everyone, his glittering eyes locked solely on me. He was wearing a black hoodie, probably because he thought it made him intimidating, but I’d bet my right nut he had a purple crop top on underneath. Brah loved his crop tops.
“You’ve got some heavy nads,” he said, taking another threatening step. Except I wasn’t threatened. Not in a physical sense anyway.
“Bodhi—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Coming here, starting a new life, hooking up with some side piece like you shouldn’t be rotting in a cell.”
Landry sucked in a breath. “How dare you say that to him?” Quickly, she turned to me. “That is not true.”
Bodhi slid his slitted gaze toward her. “What’s it like fucking a guy who’s wearing the goggles a girl who loved him gifted him right before he murdered her?”
Black spots swam before my eyes. The world around me went a little hazy. Of all the fucking shit he’d said to me, that was probably the fucking lowest. Bringing Landry into this was where I drew the line.
I lunged forward, but so did everyone else.
The first one to get to him was Coach, who clamped his hand around the back of Bodhi’s neck and squeezed hard enough that he bent at the waist under the pressure.
“I’ll have you fired!” Bodhi wheezed, trying to fight the hold.
“Go ahead.” Coach was utterly calm, not at all the way he spoke to us even when he was pissed. “Then I’ll be able to do more to you for what you just said to my daughter.”
Bodhi grunted, reaching up to slap at Coach’s hand.
“Bro. Did he just say you killed someone?” Jamie asked, glancing at me.
Walsh shifted, and I felt his eyes cut to me.
“Maybe he’s on drugs,” Kruger suggested.
Bodhi twisted under Coach’s iron hold to peer up at him. His face was red, eyes wide. “Didn’t you tell your team what kind of person they’re swimming with?” He sneered. “Guess not. You didn’t even tell your own daughter.”
Coach shoved him, and Bodhi slammed into the floor. He pushed up immediately, but Coach grabbed his shoulder. I watched his fingers turn white from the force of the squeeze. “I suggest you get the hell out of my pool and don’t show your face around here ever again.”
“He’s a liar,” Lars said, stepping forward, angling slightly in front of me.
“I’m not! I went to Pembrook with your new bestie. I know him better than anyone!” Bodhi exclaimed.
“If you knew him at all, you’d know he would never kill anyone,” Lars spat. Then he muttered something dark in Swedish.
My tongue felt thick, throat tight. All the words I wanted to say were nothing but a jumble in my brain, a vat of mixed-up letters I couldn’t put together.
“Yeah? Ask the Malibu PD. Look up his police record. I know you got the internet out here in bumfuck county.”
“Time to go,” Resch said, hauling him up and dragging him to the door.
“Wait,” Ryan said, his voice hitting pause on everything.
