Chapter 150 You Okay?

Chapter 150 You Okay?
Christian’s Point of View

“How are you feeling now?” Ivan asked curiously.

I nodded before leaning farther back into the chair, my attention returning to the television. “And your leg?”

“I’ll be fine before the championship,” I answered almost immediately.

Ivan raised the bottle of beer to his mouth, taking a long drink.

“Yes!” A chorus of cheers erupted from across the room, and my eyes snapped toward the noise.

The rest of the guys had gathered around the coffee table, engrossed in some card game and cheering so loudly that you would think my house had been turned into a fucking bar.

The entire room smelled like sweaty men, beer, and whatever cheap cologne they had decided to bathe themselves in.

I wanted to tell them all to get the hell out.

Unfortunately, I’d already received enough complaints from the coach about my relationship with my teammates. Apparently, my inability to socialize with them was affecting the team's trust in me.

Especially after I’d sustained this injury fighting one of them.

Although, to be fair, Michael deserved it.

If there was one thing I regretted, it was not breaking his fucking jaw after what he said.

“You didn't tell me you guys were coming to visit,” I complained to Ivan.

He was the only one on the team I actually tolerated.

“Because you never leave your house,” he shot back. “You're always cooped up in here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“We just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay. There was a house party yesterday, too. I sent you an invitation, but you didn't show up.”

As if my reason for staying home wasn't obvious enough, I pointed toward my injured leg.

Ivan rolled his eyes.

“You can't make everything about your sprained ankle.”

Well, I bloody can.

“I won!” Another one of the guys yelled from across the room.

I groaned under my breath, I wanted them out of my wing of the resort.

That was precisely why I'd chosen to stay in the annex in the first place. I wanted privacy.

Peace.

And now they were crawling all over my living room as if they owned the damn place. But that wasn't even the real reason I was irritated, it was Lana.

She already had enough work to do without having to wait on a bunch of grown men who were perfectly capable of getting their own drinks.

“Bring us some more juice!” one of the guys suddenly barked.

My entire body stiffened, my head snapped toward him.

Then toward Lana.

She was standing nearby, and something about the way he'd spoken to her immediately rubbed me the wrong way.

I slowly turned toward Ivan.

He was still glued to the chair beside me, completely oblivious to the murderous look I was giving him.

“And when are you guys going home?”

“Come on, don't be like that.” Ivan leaned back in his chair. “We have almost three months in this place. The least we can do is bond as a team. Besides, Michael was wondering when he could actually talk to you.”

My jaw clenched.

“Never.” The word came out through gritted teeth. There was no universe in which Michael and I were sitting down for a conversation without it ending with me breaking his fucking jaw.

I didn't care if it cost me my career.

He had insulted—

“Hey! Are you fucking blind?” A shout from across the room cut through my thoughts. My head snapped toward the sound.

James had shoved Lana backward.

He was several inches taller than her, and as he got to his feet, he shrugged off his jacket and began patting at the orange juice that had soaked through his shirt.

“Fuck,” he muttered, staring down at the stain. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

“I'm sorry.” Lana immediately scrambled back to her feet. “I didn't mean to ruin your shirt.”

I froze.

Something inside me went completely still.

Because this wasn't happening.

Maybe I was hallucinating, maybe the painkillers had finally fucked with my head.

Because there was no way that bastard had just yelled at Lana.

And shoved her.

“Do you know how much this shirt costs?”

James grabbed the front of her shirt.

That was all it took.

The pain in my leg disappeared, and I was out of my chair before I even realized I'd moved.

I grabbed Michael by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the nearest table, twisting the arm that had touched Lana behind his back.

The laughter throughout the room died instantly, nobody had expected me to move that fast.

“How dare you lay your filthy hands on her?” My voice came out low and vicious.

“Christian…” Someone called my name from somewhere behind me.

I didn't care.

All I could see was Michael's hand on Lana.

All I could think about was ripping every fucking finger from his wrist for touching her.

“Let her go.” Michael struggled against my grip, I tightened it.

“Christian, what the hell are you doing?” Still, I didn't listen. Because right now, the only thing keeping me from doing something irreversible was the thin thread of self-control I had left.

“Ah!” James screamed when I applied more pressure to his arm, and I heard the sickening pop of his shoulder.

“Get the fuck off him!” Ivan grabbed me and hauled me backward.

The moment he pulled me away, the haze of anger clouding my vision began to clear.

That was when I noticed the room.

Everyone was staring at me, and they looked terrified. Kevin stepped forward and shoved me back.

“Hey, man. It's not that fucking deep.” The pain in my ankle came rushing back, multiplied threefold by the sudden movement.

I winced.

At this rate, I might never fucking heal.

My eyes shifted toward Lana, she was on the floor. I must have yanked James hard enough to send her stumbling backward.

Her hands were clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Something twisted painfully inside me I turned back toward the others.

“Not that deep?” I repeated, my voice dangerously calm. My gaze moved from Kevin to James. “Is this how you treat your maids?”

The entire room fell silent, James rubbed his shoulder, grimacing. “She ruined my shirt.”

“And she apologized.” My voice sharpened. “How expensive could the fucking shirt be? Send me the invoice. I'll pay for it.”

I pointed toward him. “But that doesn't give you the right to put your hands on my employee.”

James's jaw clenched so tightly I thought he might crack a tooth.

I ignored him. “This is exactly why you don't have any friends,” he spat.

I pointed toward the door, I never needed them, and his expression hardened.

“Then get out.” I swept my gaze across the room. “All of you.”

“Until you learn some fucking manners, none of you are welcome in my house.” That finally got them moving. They began gathering their belongings, muttering under their breaths as they headed for the door.

Ivan, however, approached me again.

He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away from the others.

“Come on,” he urged. “It doesn't have to end like this. We're brothers, man.”

His eyes flickered toward Lana. “She’s just a maid.”

I stared at him.

Then I slowly looked down at the hand gripping my arm.

I grabbed his wrist and shoved him away.

“I didn't exclude you, Ivan.” I pointed toward the door. “Get out.”

He froze.

His expression was one of pure disbelief.

As if being the person I tolerated most on the team somehow meant he was exempt.

“Christian…”

“Out.” My voice left no room for argument. For once, Ivan didn't try to fight me.

He simply stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time before turning toward the door.

Once Ivan realized I was serious, he turned on his heels and walked away.

Within seconds, the entire room had cleared out.

Leaving only Lana and me.

I turned toward her.

She had already pushed herself off the floor and was brushing herself down, though her movements were slightly shaky.

My anger immediately gave way to concern.

“Are you okay, Liz?”