Player (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)(298)

I can feel the fear spike in me, the revulsion of being so close to him and feeling his hands on me sour in my mouth; “Anderson, what's going o-”

“Just wanted to have a little alone time, babe,” He winks, the motion totally devoid of anything remotely warm or calming; “Just you and me; no distractions.”

The warning bells are roaring like an air raid siren in my head now; every single basic “fight or flight” instinct going into overdrive inside of me.

“Yep, just you and me, babe. No business calls, no assistants, none of that.”

I feel like screaming, or running, or just exploding on the spot, but I force that down with everything I have; “I- I should go, Anders-”

“Nah.” His grip on my arm tightens, hard, and he leans in close; “Not this time.”

Oh, God.

“No more playin' hard to get, sweet cheeks,” He chuckles, his breath hot; “Time to put out.”

Oh hell fucking no. And right then, the fight or flight kicks in again, hard; this is NOT happening.

My knee jerks up hard, catching him right between the legs as I shove him away from me and whirl towards the door. But then I'm screeching as I feel the weight of him crush into me, slamming me face-first against the wall and knocking the breath from my lungs. I can hear him laughing behind me, the sound wheezing and horrible; “Uh-uh, girly, no more fuckin games with me!”

I start to scream but his hand comes down over my mouth, bottling my cries and sending them shrieking through my mind instead. I'm thrashing against him, trying to pull away.

“Time to ride the Bull, ba-”

And then suddenly his hand is no longer over my mouth and his body is no longer pressed against me as he goes flying across the room. I gasp and whirl around in time to see him go crashing over an empty cafe table stacked with chairs and crumple into the floor.

The scream is frozen in my throat as I watch some sort of shadow, roaring with fury and rage like a wild animal, launch itself across the room at Anderson.

Bryce.

Bryce out of a nightmare, clutching Anderson by the collar of his shirt as he savages him, hitting him again and again like a man possessed until the bigger man goes limp. He drops him and whirls on me.

“Bryce?!”

“Let's go.” His face is back to neutral, but the fire is still roaring like an inferno inside his eyes; the muscles of his arms still clenched as tight a his fists.

“What- What did you-” My mind is whirling a million miles an hour as I stare at the unconscious Anderson on the floor. On the one side, my would-be-attacker, on the other side, our one ticket to getting Logan back; “What did you do!?”

Bryce's look hardens for a flashing second, narrowing his eyes at me; “We're going, now.”

“But-” I'm frozen; wordless, unable to move, and unable to think as the full reality of what almost just happened hits me like a cold freeze; “But, I- I mean, he-”

Suddenly, Bryce is in front of me, his arms are around me, he's lifting me up, and I'm shrieking as he just throws me over his shoulder and yanks open the door to the cafe.

Then I find my voice; “What the fuck are you doing?!” I shriek at him, pounding at his broad back with my fists.

“Taking you away from this,” He growls; “This was a shit idea, and we're made anyways, by the way.”

“Put me down!” I'm hitting him, but he's just moving out the door and down the deserted street with me over his shoulder; “What are you, a fucking caveman?!”

“Yes,” He growls lowly.

“You can't just drag me away like I'm 'yours' you know!”

“Watch me.”

“Damnit, Bryce!”

He growls again and brings me down off his shoulder, holding me at arm's length with his hands on my waist; “I said we're made, Peyton!” His eyes flash again at me, and for just a half-second, I can see the fear there; “They had guys on the hotel, they know who we are. He knew who you were before you walked in there tonight.”

“Logan?” I say quietly.

“New plan.”

“Oh, and what plan is that?” I snap.

“My plan; the plan where I don't put you in the fucking lion’s den,” He says through clenched teeth, that rage back in his face.

“I can handle myself, Bryce!” I sneer at him; “I had everything under-”

“What, under control?!” I'm quiet, just locking eyes with him, feeling the heat sear off each other. He moves a step closer to me, his hands still tight on my waist; “I couldn't let something like that happen to you. I sure as fuck know Logan couldn't, and I'll be damned if I do.”

I want to throw it back in his face again, without even knowing why. I want to defy this man that I have such an insanely hard time saying no to, and I want to do it just to prove to myself that I can. I want to prove to myself and to him that he isn't stuck under my skin like we both know he is. I want to show us both that he hasn't folded himself into my psyche, or wrapped himself around my heart.