Kickin' It (Red Card #2)(67)

I knew our age difference.

But part of me felt like I’d been forced to grow up on my own, with a dad who didn’t care, and no family to speak of.

I sighed and went to open the back door, shoved my duffel in, and then grabbed my phone to text Matt.

Once I got in the car I began to type out a message: Headed ho

“You look good.” Erik’s voice came from behind me.

I reached for the driver’s door as he grabbed ahold of my jacket. Panic hit me like a wave of nausea as I struck him with my phone then fumbled with the door handle, but his hand remained on the neck of my jacket. The door flung open and I leaped out of the car and out of my jacket, leaving it clutched in his hands.

Pulse pounding, I ran as fast and hard as I could back to the stadium. People! I needed to be around people. He cared too much about appearances; he would never do anything around other people. I pulled open the stadium door with him running close behind.

I rounded a corner and saw the coach’s office. When I tried the door, it was locked.

I kept running. Should I try the girls’ locker room? Could we all fight him off?

He grabbed for my shoulder, but I elbowed him and kept running. I decided to head to the field. There were definitely people there. I ran toward the middle, where there were two members of the coaching staff.

“Stop!” I yelled, holding my hands up and away from him.

“Stop?” He spread his arms wide. “Stop what? This is your fault! All of it! You were supposed to sign with LA, not Seattle!”

I stared at him dumbfounded. “Are you insane? Why would I ever want to be near you after what you did to me!”

He rolled his eyes. “Same old story, I guess. Playing the victim like always,” he scoffed while I fought for my next breath and prayed that someone would save me. He was a monster and I was his victim, and I knew by the look in his eyes he wouldn’t stop. My breath came in short bursts, like I couldn’t suck in enough air to save my life. Anger pulsed like a heartbeat against my skin. I was so angry, so done with him, yet so afraid at the same time. I needed him to talk, to confess, long enough that someone would hear or see that I was in trouble. “Okay, I’ll play along, I hurt you, and you screamed in pleasure, does that sound about right?”

My stomach heaved as I fought to keep down its contents. He twisted everything. He was delusional! “Get help!” I yelled at one of the assistants out of desperation. Bye, Matt, bye, soccer life. It didn’t matter, suddenly the only thing that mattered was getting help and getting him away from innocent people. “Call the police, now!”

The assistant pulled out his cell at about the same time Erik pulled out a gun. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Erik, put the gun away,” a strong voice said. It was me, my voice. Was I actually standing in front of a man with a gun and telling him to put it away?

“No, you see, this wasn’t part of the plan, Parker. The plan was us. Together. Your future was us!” He waved the gun around. “You were the only one who said no! Who had the balls to look at me and say no! Do you realize what that does to a man? I could have made you great! I was everything to you! I saw the hero worship in your eyes, and then nothing!”

My eyes widened. “Erik, you were my coach, nothing more. You took advantage of me. Who knows who else you took advantage of!”

“They were never you. There’s something so sweet about rejection, about the chase,” he said in a pitiful voice. “It was always about you, about us, about your shining career and me as your mentor. You never gave me what I needed, I asked again and again, and after once you just shut down, you rejected me, so now I’m going to reject you . . .” His gun slowly moved from the assistant to me. “You fucking left me!”

“Because you raped me!” I screamed. “You’re sick, you need help!”

His eyes turned cold. “Is it wrong to love you? To love your talent? To want to spend my life with someone who loves me just as much? I know how you feel about me. Those smiles you sent my way. The provocative clothing you wore to get my attention. The times you looked at me while you showered. I watched you, you know. I watched you every day after practice, when you would close your eyes and moan my name.”

I choked back the urge to hurl as I remembered all those days I thought I heard someone in the locker room and nobody was there. The lonely nights I practiced on my own and thought my imagination was getting the best of me. All the times I asked my coach, who I trusted, to stay outside and walk me to my car because I was scared.

The very coach who was a predator.

Who raped me when I trusted him most.

Erik’s hand started to shake.

Either he was having second thoughts or I had an opening to try to fight him. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I walked toward him. “Is that why you left the university?”

“I left because some little snitch told the athletic director about the allegations!” Shit, they finally did something? When I was gone? Really?

“It wasn’t me,” I lied. “I would never do that to you.”

“You’re a whore!” he roared. “You don’t deserve me.”

“No.” I shook my head as I felt my future dissolving right in front of me. “I don’t, but if you put the gun down . . .” I’d what? Run away with him? Or just let him shoot me and pray he’s a horrible shot? “Just . . . calm down.”