Taming the Rogue

Prove It

POV: Harlow

"I know I have to come home and say goodbye to Charles, but Miss Lovato won't let me." I sighed as I sat next to my brother on the grass. We were taking a break during practice since I just ran a total of seven hundred yards and he threw just about that much since we were just working on passing and guarding today.

"Come back with me. She can't stop you then." Jackson nudged me with his shoulder.

"Our father would be pissed." I shook my head.

"He won't do anything if I stop him. I'm stronger and faster than him. I've got you." He gave me his one million dollar smile. Well, actually fifty thousand dollar smile. Very expensive braces and whitening shit once a month.

"I get to sleep on the couch in your room then, and I'm leaving in the morning." I gave him a knowing look.

"I'll take the couch, and you take my bed. That isn't up for debate." He looked around. "If we leave now, Miss Lovato won't see us."

I nodded before signaling to coach that I had to leave.

He waved Jackson and I off, so we jogged to Jackson's nice ass truck. His truck is worth more than my hut out back.

Jackson's hands trembled as he tried to hide it by gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Are you alright Jacks?" I looked over at him to see his jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the veins popping in his temples.

"Yeah, I've just got low blood sugar. I'll be alright." Jackson gave me a quick fake smile.

The rest of the ride was quiet. The only sound to be heard was the rain hitting the truck as we plowed through it.

When we pulled into the driveway Jackson quickly got out of his truck and just grabbed his shit before walking inside without me.

"Help?" I turned to my inner wolf as I watched Jackson through the window near the front door.

Don't go inside. Something is up.

"He does have diabetes though. It could be his blood sugar." I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Why ask me for help if you're just going to question my advice anyways?

"Because I want this to be okay." I sighed before hopping out of the truck, grabbing my shit out of the bed, and then going inside the house.

When I opened the door I saw Jackson standing ten feet or so in front of me with a blank expression before nodding.

"Prove your worth to me, Jackson. Put the cuffs on her and beat her. Prove that you are a Rogue." My father's voice creeped up beside me and the blood drained from my face. "Prove it."

Jackson nodded before taking slow steps towards me.

I went to turn around and run back out the door, but my father pushed me in Jackson's direction before guarding the door with a pistol in his grip.

"Jackson, please don't." I begged him as I turned back in his direction.

He gave me a saddened expression as he slapped my cheek hard enough to send me to the floor.

I was quick to get back on my feet. Shit goes down if you stay down. "Jackson, why are you doing this? Have you seriously let him get into your head?" Tears started to stream down my face as Jackson approached me with an emotionless expression. "If you don't care about the fact that I'm your sister, maybe you'll care about the fact that I am the best receiver you will ever have, even in the NFL. A quarterback isn't shit without their receiver." I put my hands up as my eyes scanned for an exit.