Elite (Eagle Elite) - By Rachel Van Dyken Page 0,38

said you wouldn’t protect me anymore, that—”

“Shit. Girls are so dense sometimes.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I was upset, Trace! You’re so damn argumentative and you never listen! I was trying to scare you for a few days. I wasn’t going to throw you to the freaking wolves!”

“Oh.”

He grabbed my hand and kept walking. My hand felt so small in his.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

And he was officially done talking. We picked up pace when we got behind the gymnasium toward the back side of the fence where a few trees were planted in order to make the place look more like a park than a school, which I guess was somewhat typical for a rich university.

Nixon stopped in the middle of the grass and whistled.

Holy football team.

A few lights turned on almost like a spotlight, and then Tim, the quarterback I supposedly slept with walked out into the spotlight. He looked scared shitless.

I looked behind me. Phoenix and Tex were standing there silently watching. Nixon took off his leather jacket and held it out. Tex slowly walked up and took it from his hands then gave me a wink.

“Tim,” Nixon said in a stern voice. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Tim nodded, his eyes flickering to mine and then back to Nixon’s.

“Words, Tim. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” Tim’s voice sounded strained.

“Tim, did you or didn’t you have sex with this girl?” He pointed to me. I wanted to disappear on the spot. Crap, for some reason I felt like it was my fault… if I hadn’t taken that drink from Phoenix.

“No.”

“No… what? I’m losing patience, Tim.”

“No, sir. I did not have sex with Tracey Rooks.”

“Interesting.” Nixon moved closer to Tim and cracked his knuckles. “And who told you to spread the lie about Tracey?”

Tim said nothing.

“You hear that, everyone?” Nixon turned around and lifted his hands into the air. The guy who kissed me in the elevator and the guy in front of me now were two very different people. His muscles flexed in the moonlight. He pushed back a few pieces of fallen hair. “His answer is silence. Well, at least he’s not a rat. Right, Tim?”

Tim didn’t say anything, he just stood there. Head held high.

Nixon laughed and then punched him across the jaw. Hard enough to cause Tim to stumble. Blood oozed from his lip, but he still didn’t say anything.

“How long will this take, Tim?”

Tim smiled.

Nixon punched him again. This time Tim fell forward, giving Nixon the perfect opportunity to use his knee. Blood spewed from Tim’s nose as he cursed and fell to the ground. “Still silent, Tim?”

Crap, why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Horrified, I looked back to Tex. He shook his head as if giving me a silent message not to do anything, but I was too scared to run. My feet were locked in place.

“More?” Nixon asked and then landed another blow to Tim’s jaw, and another, and another until I thought he really was going to kill him.

Finally Tim cried out. “Phoenix! One of your own told me to! He said you would be pleased.”

“He said I would be pleased?” Nixon laughed. “Tim, do I look pleased?”

“No.”

“No, what?” Nixon said in a deadly voice.

“No, sir. Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again. It won’t—”

“Damn right, it won’t happen again. Now get off your sorry ass and apologize to Trace.”

Tim slowly got to his feet and stumbled toward me. His left eye was beginning to swell and blood was caked on his face. “I’m sorry for any trouble I may have caused you, Trace.”

Nixon came up behind him and grabbed his arms thrusting him into the crowd of football players in front of us. “Clean him up.”

An abnormal amount of yes sirs came from the guys who helped Tim walk away. People began to scatter. Including Tex and Phoenix.

“One more thing,” Nixon said loudly. Everyone froze in place. “Phoenix… come here. Now.”

Phoenix’s normally smug face paled as he slowly walked toward Nixon, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

“Because you never—”

The sound of knuckles hitting flesh almost made me puke as I saw Phoenix hit the ground and Nixon shake his hand.

People gasped. My mouth dropped open. Whispering commenced. I wasn’t sure if it was normal for Nixon to hit his own friend. I mean, he didn’t seem the type. I just… I didn’t know.

“What should your punishment be?” Nixon circled him. “I leave for the night to take care of family business — a business you