Chapter 59 Dante's Jealous Fury
Dante POV
I knew something was wrong the moment I saw them. Practice had barely started, the field buzzing with the usual noise—cleats digging into grass, teammates shouting warm-ups, the sharp whistle of the assistant coach cutting through the air. But my attention wasn’t on drills or formations. It was on Micah. He stood near the fence, shoulders tight, his posture stiff in that familiar way he slipped into whenever fear crawled under his skin. And standing directly in front of him was Max. Too close. Far too close.
My fingers tightened slowly around the clipboard in my hands as I watched them from the sideline. Max said something I couldn’t hear. Micah’s reaction was immediate—his head snapped up, anger flashing across his face before something sharper replaced it. Panic. The kind he tried to hide but never quite managed to. I had seen that look before. Last night. In the supply room. My jaw tightened. Whatever was happening between them wasn’t casual conversation. It was confrontation.
I took a few steps closer along the sideline, keeping my pace slow and controlled. No one paid attention to me. Why would they? A coach walking the field wasn’t unusual. But every step brought their voices closer. “…you’re in trouble,” Max was saying. Micah’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m fine,” he shot back quickly. “No, you’re not.” I stopped walking. The tone in Max’s voice wasn’t mocking or aggressive. It was concerned. Protective. The word twisted something sharp inside my chest.
Max leaned closer to Micah. Too close. “You’re scared,” he said quietly. Micah shook his head. “You don’t know anything.” “I know enough.” The air between them thickened with tension. I watched Micah’s hands curl into fists, watched his breathing grow uneven the way it did whenever pressure built too high around him. Then Max reached for him. My vision narrowed instantly. Max’s hand landed on Micah’s arm. Not aggressive. Gentle. Comforting. I felt something cold spread through my chest.
Micah didn’t pull away immediately. That was the part that bothered me most. He looked tired. Worn down. His shoulders sagged slightly like the fight had drained out of him. Max softened his voice. “You don’t have to deal with it alone,” he said. Micah looked away. “Yes,” he whispered. “I do.” Max stepped closer. Close enough that their bodies nearly touched. From where I stood, it looked intimate. Too intimate. My grip on the clipboard tightened until the plastic creaked under my fingers.
Max lifted a hand toward Micah’s face. Slow. Careful. Like he was approaching a frightened animal. Micah froze. I saw the exact moment Max’s intention shifted. His eyes softened. His thumb brushed against Micah’s cheek. “You deserve better than this,” Max murmured. Micah inhaled sharply. “Max—” But he didn’t step away. Max leaned closer. Close enough that their foreheads almost touched. My pulse slammed hard against my ribs. Then Max whispered something I barely caught. “Just tell me who’s hurting you.” Micah shook his head weakly. “I can’t.”
Max exhaled slowly. Then he did something that made the world around me go very, very quiet. He leaned in. Toward Micah’s lips. I moved before I even realized I had started walking. Not fast. Not rushed. Just inevitable. Max stopped inches from Micah’s mouth when he sensed me approaching. Both of them turned. Micah’s eyes widened. Max straightened slowly. I stopped a few feet away. Silence stretched between the three of us like a wire pulled too tight.
Max recovered first. “Coach.” My gaze stayed on Micah. He looked shaken. Flushed. His breathing uneven again. “Practice started five minutes ago,” I said calmly. Micah nodded quickly. “Right. I—I was just heading over.” He moved past me without another word. I didn’t stop him. But my eyes followed him all the way across the field. Only when he was safely surrounded by teammates did I finally turn back to Max.
Max didn’t look intimidated. That almost made me smile. Almost. He crossed his arms casually. “Something you need, Coach?” I stepped closer. Close enough that he had to tilt his head slightly to meet my eyes. “Yes.” The word came out quiet. Controlled. “Stay away from him.” Max blinked once. Then he laughed softly. “From Micah?” “Yes.” Max studied me for a moment. Long enough that the air between us started to feel heavy. “Interesting,” he murmured. My patience thinned. “You’re interfering in something that doesn’t concern you.”
Max tilted his head. “You mean Micah?” My expression didn’t change. “I mean his life.” Max scoffed. “You don’t own him.” The words echoed the ones he’d thrown at me before. I stepped closer. Close enough that my shadow swallowed his. “Listen carefully,” I said softly. Max didn’t move. “Micah is under my protection.” Max’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly does that mean?” “It means,” I continued calmly, “that whatever you think you’re doing with him stops now.”
Max leaned forward slightly. “You’re the one he’s scared of.” That made me pause. Only for a second. Then I smiled. “You’re misunderstanding something.” Max raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” “Micah runs to me when he’s scared.” Max’s jaw tightened. “He runs to you because you’ve made sure there’s nowhere else safe.” The accusation hung in the air. For a moment neither of us spoke. Then I straightened slowly. “You’re very perceptive,” I said quietly. Max didn’t smile. “And you’re very controlling.”
I met his gaze without blinking. “Stay away from him.” Max shook his head slightly. “No.” The answer was simple. Firm. Defiant. My smile returned. Slow. Cold. “Then you’ve made a very unfortunate decision.” Max didn’t respond. But I saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Just for a second. I turned and walked back toward the field. Practice continued like nothing had happened. Players ran drills. Whistles blew. The sun dipped lower over the horizon. But my mind wasn’t on the game. It was on Micah. And Max. And the way Max almost kissed him.
Micah laughed weakly with a teammate near the midfield line, trying to pretend everything was normal. But I knew better. I knew every crack in his composure. Every tremor he tried to hide. Someone was threatening him. Someone had pushed him far enough to sabotage another student. And now Max thought he could step in and play hero. My jaw tightened. That wouldn’t be happening. Because Max had made one mistake. He thought this was a competition. He thought this was about Micah choosing between us. It wasn’t. This was about control. And I never lose control of what belongs to me.
Across the field, Max joined the warm-ups. He laughed with another teammate. But every few seconds his eyes flicked toward Micah. Watching. Protective. Annoying. I studied him carefully. Strengths. Weaknesses. Habits. Everyone has pressure points. Everyone. Max just hadn’t realized yet that I had already started looking for his. And when I found the right one… I would remove him from Micah’s life completely. Quietly. Permanently. Because the next time Max leaned toward Micah like that— There wouldn’t be anyone around to stop what happened next.