I Hate Football Players 3 | 18+

Chapter 126: Ellie

After I told my parents that I'd been sexually assaulted by Ryder Stevens when I was only fourteen, they reacted worse than I'd feared. Among their overreactions, they forced my attendance at a self-defense class, which Harper willingly attended with me. My complete lack of coordination and strength, which had only improved slightly in college, definitely put me at a disadvantage, no matter the size difference. To no one's surprise, Harper performed circles around me on the exercise mats, but I still successfully completed the class.

Unfortunately, all the information we'd learned about pressure points and nerve contact strikes dissolved into mental dust within my completely blank mind the second a rough, calloused hand enclosed around my wrist and yanked me into a dark room, unfamiliar room.

The faint smell of removed catered food hung in the air as my eyes squinted and searched the dark for any signs of where I was. My hands fumbled through empty airspace while my feet shuffled friction lines over what felt like rough carpet.

Not a supply closet, where am I?

Once the soft door click hit my ears, followed by a stronger lock bolted shut, I blinked under the light adjustment and gaped at who'd dragged me in here.

A tall, muscular man with cropped black hair gelled back off his forehead and lined with gray around his ears turned his broad shoulders. Pensive brown eyes narrowed as they roamed over me like he searched me for an unspoken answer and one of his thumbs absently stroked over his sharp jawline.

While I hadn't seen him in years and certainly never in clothes as casual as black dress pants under a white polo shirt pulled tight around the muscles underneath, a chill started between my shoulder blades and trickled down my spine like droplets of water. Upon his recognition, my body sank in retraction, like I was dragged down stronger by gravity.

The hell is Mr. Stevens doing here!?

"Y-you?" I sputtered out the word and instinctively slipped my hand into my front jeans' pocket, where the security of my phone sat.

"Take her phone, John," an icy female voice spoke up, which spread the chill sensation over the skin down my arms as a trail of goosebumps crept up from my shoulders down to the back of my hands.

My eyes moved in slow motion and the black walls around us closed in on me as I took in the presence of two more tall figures. A woman and younger man stood near the far corner of what I vaguely recognized as a VIP box office. A row of gray leather recliner seats faced the open field, which tempted me with relief that was instantly distinguished when the field-level lights shut off.

I flinched at a brushed, patted contact over my thighs and before I reacted, Mr. Stevens withdrew my phone, which buzzed repeatedly until his large index finger turned it off. Tension squeezed me internally, from the sides of my throat to the muscle fibers stretched across my chest, even my thighs clenched inward as I shrank backwards until my head and heels hit a hard wall.

"Eleanor, don't look so surprised to see us," added the woman I recognized anywhere, dressed in an impeccable crisp, white shirt and black dress pants that looked perfectly tailored to her tall, trim figure.

Layers of gold necklaces laid on the V-shaped crevice created from her sharp neckline and coordinated with the gold and diamond pendant earrings threaded through her ears. Her brown hair shone like glass and was cut blunt to her shoulders. Even sharper was the gaze her brown eyes bored into me behind her thick winged eye makeup. Her crimson-red lips were twisted into a scowl, as if my presence was not only unwelcome but offended her.

Mrs. Stevens, which means -

My breath stalled at the tall man behind her, the same broad shoulders as his dad tensed as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest. The same brown eyes as his mother glared at me and his brown hair was longer and disheveled around his ears. A slight collection of freckles dotted across a nose bent enough out of alignment that showed it'd been broken more than once. The way my pulse thundered in my ears reminded me that one of those occasions was from Jake's fists.