Chapter4
924 Words
His knees buckled from the agonizing pain, dragging him down toward the floor, and I followed him down to maintain the pressure.
"How... Jace, just let me go!" he cried out, sobbing like a toddler.
"Say the word. Apologize to me, and I'll drop you," I hissed in his ear.
"Please, Jace Silverman! Please, Jace! Forgive me! I promise I'll never cross your path again!"
Satisfied, I released my grip and stood up straight, brushing off my hoodie. The room remained dead silent. Everyone was still paralyzed by the sight, including Nico, who hadn't broken eye contact with me for a single second.
Suddenly, Nathaniel scrambled up with his hockey stick, furious that his friends had been humiliated by the team's favorite target. He lunged forward, swinging the heavy stick directly at me.
But I was miles ahead of him.
Sidestepping the attack, I watched him lose his balance and almost crash into the rows of lockers. I caught the end of his stick, making him think for a split second that I was stabilizing him. Instead, I used his own momentum to spin him around and hurl him against the metal locker with a loud, ringing thud.
He slumped to the floor, struggling to keep his eyes open as blood began to trickle from his hairline. I stepped over, calmly picking up the dropped stick. Something dark took over my emotions, replacing my fear with pure adrenaline.
I raised the stick high, ready to bring it down on his head, when a heavy grip clamped around the wood from behind, halting me instantly.
I turned my head to find Nico Lancaster standing there. His gaze was icy enough to make anyone shiver, but I didn't back down. I squared my shoulders, facing him directly.
"That's enough, Silverman," he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "Look at the mess you're making right before practice. You're causing a massive distraction."
"You call this a distraction?" I countered, a bitter laugh escaping me. "But when I was the one getting beaten up, you never saw it as a problem. You just stood by and watched."
My words clearly struck a nerve. His jaw clenched. "What did you expect me to do? Pick sides and divide the team? I’ve spent three years building this group."
"Then it seems like you're doing a pretty terrible job as a leader," I stated.
His eyes darkened instantly. He took a heavy step toward me, forcing me backward against the lockers. I had to actively fight the urge to stare down at his chest, which looked incredibly toned up close.
"You think my leadership is a disaster?" he demanded, finally cornering me. He slammed his hand against the metal beside my head, trapping me completely.
"Yes, it is," I challenged, refusing to lower my gaze. "And I'll prove it to you."
A flicker of genuine amusement crossed his features as he stared down at my face. It felt like he was looking right into my soul, but I refused to let him intimidate me. I hated him, and no amount of flashing his abs was going to change that.
Nico leaned in a little too close, his chest brushing against my arm as he lowered his head to whisper in my ear, "And how exactly do you intend to do that, little man?"
"I challenge you to a game," I blurted out.
He threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Really? Now that's interesting. Silverman is challenging me to a game."
His laughter was frustratingly smooth, and his breath smelled like fresh mint. The intense heat radiating from his body felt like a spell, making my legs feel heavy and rooting me to the spot.
"Now I know you've completely lost your mind," Theodore jeered from across the room, holding his bruised chest. "You can't even beat the worst player on this roster, and now you want to go up against the Captain? You must have a death wish."
Nico tilted his head, studying me closely as if searching for any sign of weakness or regret. "I'm giving you one chance to back down right now, save whatever little dignity you have left."
"Why are you trying to talk me out of it? Or are you just scared I'll actually beat you?" I pushed his buttons even further.
He let out a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration before finally stepping away from me. Even though he moved back, the scent of his expensive cologne hung heavy in the air, clinging to my clothes.
"Don't bother warning him, Cap," Liam muttered, still nursing his sprained wrist. "We'd all love to watch him humiliate himself out there."
Nathaniel remained completely quiet on the bench, holding a towel to his head while a couple of teammates helped clean up the blood.
"For a second there, I thought you two were about to kiss," Theodore joked, glancing between me and Nico, who was now pulling on his practice jersey.
Nico scoffed, adjusting his gear. "Me? Kiss Silverman? Gross. But honestly, if he had a sister, "I wouldn't mind not only kissing her, but bending her over and giving her a good fuck." A lazy smirk crossed his face as he looked me up and down. "I bet she'd be incredibly cute. He might be a loser, but you can't deny the guy has good genes."
He stared at me with an intense, scanning look, and despite my anger, a burning blush rushed all the way up to my cheeks.
- Writer
