The Wrong Quarterback (The Wrong Player #1)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

PARKER

W alking away from Casey felt like the hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my life. And that wasn’t me being dramatic.

Leaving her with Gray Andrews…

Absolutely unacceptable.

Something that was not going to happen again.

“Mr. Davis,” Professor Hendrick’s voice snapped the second I’d forced myself back into the room. The lecture hall had emptied out while I’d been gone, but she was still standing by the lectern, arms crossed over her chest, a look that could have curdled milk aimed straight at me.

“Yes, Professor?” I was glad that my voice was coming out normal. I felt shell-shocked, changed, just from that brief interaction in the hallway.

She raised an eyebrow, the silence stretching just long enough to make my jaw tighten. “Is there something you’d like to share? Something I should be aware of?”

Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have been that obvious, basically running after one of her students in front of the whole class. I might as well have put a neon sign over my head that said I was interested.

It was unavoidable, though. If I hadn’t gotten her name just now, I might have gone crazy.

Well, crazier than I was already feeling.

“No, ma’am. Nothing to share,” I said smoothly, folding my arms and giving her my most practiced, pleasant smile.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowing. “I’d like to remind you, Mr. Davis, of my strict no-fraternization policy between TAs and students. It’s not just a guideline; it’s non-negotiable.”

I nodded, the smile never slipping as I thought about Casey’s silver eyes, and the way she’d stared up at me…and all the things I was going to do to that tight fucking body.

“Understood, Professor,” I replied easily, my voice steady.

But I’d never told a bigger lie.

There was definitely going to be fraternizing.

More than she could ever imagine.

And I, for one, couldn’t wait for the fraternizing to begin.

I would just have to figure out a way around that rule after the fact.

First steps to becoming a stalker: figuring out everything I could about my girl.

As soon as I left the lecture hall, I slipped into one of the empty, private study rooms that were in most of the academic buildings. These rooms would be almost impossible to get next week when students actually had work to do, but since it was the first day of class, they were all completely empty.

First day of class. It felt weird to think that was all the time that had passed. Today already felt like the longest, most life changing day of my life. It seemed much more fitting that weeks had gone by, or even months. Not just a couple of fucking hours.

Settling into the chair, the screen’s glow reflecting off my face as I navigated through the class roster, my fingers paused when her name popped up. Casey Larsen.

It would sound even better as Casey Davis.

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. Okay, crazy…

I moved to the professor portal. Hendrick had given me access to help with something last year, and I was hoping she hadn’t bothered to change the password. I keyed it in and waited, doing an inner fist pump when the screen accepted it.

I typed in her name, and Casey’s student profile appeared, neatly organized and full of the usual information—photo ID, major—undecided, of course, since she was a freshman, and home address. My gaze slid over her birthdate and paused at her current schedule. Perfect. A quick screenshot captured it all, and I made a mental note of her roommate’s name as well.

I opened a new tab, fingers typing her name and hometown. I was pleasantly surprised when there were actually a few search results.

She played piano. And she didn’t just play …she was incredible. There were some articles about piano contests she’d been in, bright headlines detailing her wins, her talent. One article even linked to a video on YouTube. I clicked on it, and before I knew it, the soft, rich notes of piano music filled the silent room. She was younger in the video, eyes closed as her fingers danced over the keys, moving with a kind of passion that made it impossible to look away. I sat back, the music winding its way through me, unexpected and sharp. She was talented. Fuck, more than talented. I didn’t know much about music, but there was no way she wasn’t a prodigy or something.

Wow. Just another tally mark in the goddess column.

I scrolled through a few more search results that weren’t relevant before I got to the obituary of a guy named Ben Larsen. Feeling uneasy, I clicked on it, scanning through the page.

Her brother had died. Around two years ago. He’d been about my age. I rubbed at my chest, the sentence “survived by his loving mother, Brenda Larsen, and his younger sister, Casey” making me sick inside.

Fuck.

I got it then. Her eyes had been stunning, yes. And unique. But thinking about them now, I understood why else they had entranced me. Because there was a deepness inside them, a darkness…that only came from suffering loss.

I knew that, because the same look was reflected in my eyes from the moment my dad had died suddenly and my mom had fallen apart.

I wondered if she felt it too—that emptiness inside of her, like something was missing.

I hoped she did. Because then I could swoop in and fill all the empty parts up.

My phone buzzed with a text, and I groaned when I saw the time. I was supposed to be watching film right now with the rest of the offense.

Matty: Where the fuck are you?

Jace: Blink once if you were kidnapped.

Matty: How the fuck are you going to see a blink through a text?

Jace: ESP, obviously. I’d be able to sense it through the phone.

Matty: …

Rolling my eyes, I slammed my laptop shut, annoyed for the first time in my life that I had to go to a football practice.

I had so much more stalking to do.

On my way , I typed out as I strode out of the study room and down the hall.

I’d always been a pro at patience in my life. Knowing that if I worked hard, eventually I would get what I wanted. It had worked for football, and I’d make sure it worked with Casey as well.

And I was quite sure that the payoff for this particular patience would be the most rewarding thing I’d earned in my life thus far.

I jolted awake, my eyes searching the darkness of the room, trying to figure out what had woken me up…and what had my pulse hammering like an alarm in my chest.

Something was off. The kind of off that prickled the back of my neck and made my muscles tense under the sheets. I sat up slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. I didn’t see anything.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I reached for a pair of sweatpants on the chair. I pulled them on, the soft fabric clinging to my skin as the cool air hit me. Sleeping naked was my usual thing, but I wasn’t going to go investigate the house with my dick out.

Creak . And then another one.

Alright…some fucker was definitely in my house. And it better not be Jace or Matty trying to scare me from next door because I wasn’t above punching either of them.

I moved as silently as I could to the closet, opening it and grabbing the baseball bat I had in there before I crept to the bedroom door. Cracking it open, I peered into the dark hallway.

Empty.

I took a few steps down the hall, avoiding the floorboards that I knew creaked. This house was older, like all the houses you could rent around campus.

I was just passing one of the empty bedrooms when a rough burlap bag was suddenly yanked over my head, the thick, scratchy material biting into my neck. “Mother-fucker!” I hissed, my body kicking into fight mode before my brain even caught up. I swung, my fist connecting with someone’s ribs.

The grunt of pain was satisfying, and I tried again, but it was like ten more people were on me at once, crushing me, pinning my arms to my sides, and forcing me to the ground.

“Hold him, damn it!” a voice hissed.

I jerked and twisted, catching another body with my knee. There were curses, then shuffling feet, and the sound of someone stumbling into the wall. Before I could hit anyone else, my arms were yanked behind me, bound tightly, and my legs tied next. I struggled against the restraints, breath heaving through the stifling bag.

Before I could process my next move, I was lifted and carried away. The hallway turned into the front yard, and then the night air bit at my bare chest. There was a rumble as a car trunk squeaked open, and I was shoved inside. “Fuck,” I grunted, the hard metal unforgiving against my spine. The lid slammed shut.

Was this really happening?

I kicked as hard as I could, my feet slamming against the sides, but the only response was the engine roaring to life.

The drive was short, but the minutes seemed to tick by like hours, as I continued to kick at the sides and try to get out of the bindings around my wrists. I listened to the tires crunch gravel, and then the car finally stopped, and muffled voices were talking low outside. The trunk popped open, and I didn’t wait. I thrashed, twisting my body, trying to kick out at whoever was close enough. My foot connected with something—a knee, maybe—and I heard a curse.

“I’m going to kill you,” I snarled, and someone nearby actually laughed.

More hands grabbed at me and lifted me out of the trunk. The bag still covered my face, suffocating, blinding, but I could feel the temperature change. Cooler air, stale. Like we were heading underground.

They took me down steps, my feet bouncing off each one. My shoulders ached from being jerked around.

“Careful with him,” a voice said. “He has a game today.”

What the fuck? What kind of kidnappers were these guys?

There was a chuckle, and then I was set down on the cold, hard floor. The bag was ripped from my head, and I blinked, squinting against the dim light as I inhaled the smell of wax and damp earth. Flickering candles caught my attention first, casting long shadows that danced along the concrete walls. My pulse raced as I scanned the room, the cold air pressing in from all sides. Candles lined every surface, filling the basement with a strange, almost…ceremonial glow. A circle of guys in black masks completed that look. They were standing motionless, watching me with painted, grinning faces.

I shifted, still bound, my wrists aching from the tightness of the ropes. I stared at the masked guys—some of them taller, broader, others leaner, but all dressed in black, blending into the shadows. The masked guy directly in front of me itched his knee, and through the dim light, I saw the bottom of a very familiar tiger tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve.

That was definitely Garrett, a senior running back on the team. We’d always given him a hard time about it because the tiger’s tail looked like a dick.

I glanced around the room for more clues, and then I saw it—a stone altar on the back wall, carved with the symbol of the Sphinx, unmistakable with its sharp, angular lines and detailed depictions—a scarab at the center, its wings spread wide, surrounded by piercing eyes and Egyptian looking shapes. Dark red smears marred the mark on the wall, almost like dried blood, giving it a sinister, creepy edge.

It finally hit me then…I was being fucking initiated.

I hadn’t ever given the Sphinx or any of the other secret societies on campus much thought. I was firmly of the opinion that I controlled my own destiny. I was going to be the number one pick in the NFL draft, whether I was a part of a secret society or not.

But I guess I wouldn’t complain. Only the top students, the most powerful athletes, the ones destined for something more, ever got pulled into the Sphinx.

The guy standing closest to me shifted, stepping closer. His voice came low, muffled by the mask, but I recognized the tone. It was Charlie, the basketball captain. A smirk crept up on my lips, picturing the curly-haired, six-foot-seven, gangly looking redhead. If this was a real kidnapping, I’d never be able to take them seriously once he pulled off his mask and I saw that face. “Welcome to the Sphinx, Davis,” he said, trying to sound commanding and mysterious.

“If this was an invite, you could’ve skipped the whole ‘bag over the head and tie me up’ thing. A simple ‘you’re invited’ would have done the trick,” I drawled, drawing a few chuckles as someone finally undid the bindings. I gritted my teeth as I massaged my wrists. This was going to be fun for my game today.

Footsteps echoed against the stone walls behind me. I shifted, glancing over my shoulder, and saw three more inductees being dragged into the room, their heads covered with burlap sacks similar to the one that had been yanked over mine earlier.

The masked figures holding them wore the same masks, and they were all struggling not to get beat up by the guys they were dragging.

One of the guys was putting up quite a fight, jerking against the hands that held him, shouting curses that, even muffled, were unmistakably…creative.

“I’m going to kill you, ya back-alley hillbillies. I’ll fuck your mom and make you call me daddy! I am not going to be kidnapped by a bunch of wannabe Halloween decorations!”

I snorted. Jace. Only Jace…

Did that mean one of the others was…

The guys were all dropped to the ground, their bags ripped off, revealing Jace, Matty, and some other guy I’d never seen before.

Jace grinned scarily and pointed a finger at one of the masked figures that had been holding him. “I’m coming for you,” he mouthed, and the guy shrank back, hiding behind some of the other Sphinx members. Jace winked at me afterward, like he’d known I’d be here all along.

Matty just looked pissed, glaring around the room like he wanted to burn it all down.

The room suddenly grew completely silent, and the masked men parted, another figure stepping out in front of them all. This one was the leader judging by the fancy, gold-etched mask he was wearing. His voice, amplified by some kind of distortion device he was using, cut through the air with all the resonant authority and mystery that Charlie had been going for earlier. I had no idea who this guy was.

“Welcome to the Sphinx,” he began, his gaze sweeping over us, the new initiates. “If you make it in, you will gain access to an organization that boasts the most powerful figures in the world. Politicians, captains of industry, even those who move the unseen levers of power—every door will be open to you.”

The four of us shifted, his words settling over us. I could feel the change in the air, the anticipation mixed with an underlying current of uncertainty. The promise was definitely alluring.

The leader continued, his voice deep and deliberate. “Over the course of the next year, you will be tested. You’ll have to prove that you are worthy of standing in our midst, of bearing the mark of the Sphinx…failing any one of these tests would be the single greatest regret of your lives…” He paused for dramatic effect, blank green eyes staring at us from behind the mask. “The three tests will happen to each of you at different times, and when you least expect it. Those who complete their tests go on to become full Sphinx members at the end of the year. Good luck, Gentlemen.”

With that warm welcome, he turned and left the room through a side door I hadn’t noticed before. Charlie was up again then, this time holding a gold chalice covered with a ton of diamonds and rubies. Those were fake, right? Because that was a very expensive looking cup.

It was the knife he pulled out of his robes, though, that really got my attention. His voice echoed through the chamber. “To prove your commitment, you will offer your blood. Your first sacrifice to the Sphinx.”

I watched as he moved to the first initiate, the one I didn’t recognize, and handed him the knife. He took it, wincing as he sliced a shallow cut across his palm, crimson drops splattering into the chalice.

I was next, and I took the knife, its hilt cool and heavy in my hand. I glanced down at my palm, flexing my fingers, knowing that any injury there could throw everything off for the game.

Somehow, I didn’t think they’d take that as an excuse, though.

I pressed the blade against my chest instead, just below my collarbone. The sting was immediate, a hot line of pain as I dug it into my skin. Blood welled up, warm and sticky, tracing a path down to my ribs.

I tilted forward, letting the blood drip into the chalice. The guy nodded, taking the knife from my hand and moving on to Jace and Matty.

And then it was done.

We were ushered up a set of stairs and out of a door, popping out onto the grass outside the Sphinx like newborn chicks.

“That was fucking weird,” Matty grunted as we parted ways with the other initiate and set off toward the street where we all lived. It wasn’t that far away. We definitely could have done without the trunk ride.

Or any of it, obviously.

“Very weird,” I muttered, extremely annoyed about the fact that the sky was already streaked with the orange of early dawn, and I was going to have to play a game today with minimal sleep.

I was also annoyed that this would be another thing that took away from my plans for Casey. That was unacceptable, actually.

Jace abruptly started to laugh, the sound almost a giggle.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Matty, his patience completely gone.

“You should have seen the chick’s face when they came to get me. She probably thinks I died,” Jace cackled, stopping and bending over because he was laughing so hard. “She was screaming so loud.”

That got a grin out of me…and Matty, as we both pictured the scene.

“This won’t be so bad, it can’t be, right?” Jace asked when he’d finally recovered.

Matty and I glanced at each other, my wariness reflected in his eyes.

I mean how bad could it get…