Chapter 185 I'll give up forever to touch you.

Chapter 185 I'll give up forever to touch you.
CHAPTER 185
I’ll give up forever to touch you.
Reid
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“I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people, and we’ve suffered enough – Seventy Years of Sleep.”
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Saint is a demon on the field, risking everything. 

I watch him with a heavy heart.

I’m losing him.

I don’t know what Jace and Milo said to him that day, but it shifted something in him. He has been using more often. He wakes up every night and thinks I do not know. I know when he gets out of bed, and when he returns. I know when the low hits and how he is addicted to the high. 

I shouldn’t have let him play high, but what was I supposed to do?

This is what I signed up for. We’re getting through this game, one way or the other, and we’re squashing this out. He needs to talk to me. We need to fix the problem, because this cannot continue anymore.

He moves sharply on the field, and I push aside the heaviness in my chest. Everything comes after the game.

For now, we are going to beat Crownhill again, and we’re going to look good doing it. Screw them.

Milo and Jace’s begin their taunting, but Saint is untouchable, floating on a high of cocaine. 

I try to focus on the game, on the throw, but I am too wound tight, waiting for something to go wrong.

And it does.

His timing starts to slip.

Shit.

Jace is on him instantly, late hit after late hit, and driving him into the cold turf.

Panic explodes hot in my sternum. Coach is watching. Clark and the rest of the teammates are picking up on things. If they find out that Saint is high, I don’t know what I am going to do. I need him. I need him by my side on the team. 

Everything collapses in the third quarter. We’re winning, and I relax a little too much. Big fucking mistake. I drop back, while Saint runs a dig across the middle. The window is right there. I put the ball where it should be, but … his hands are late … the ball tips, and Jace slams into me, boot coming down heavily on my knee.

Hot white pain explodes through me, and I drop to the ground, howling in pain.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

The stadium noise becomes a dull roar. Everything fades into oblivion. My knee is fucked. The pain climbs up and roots me to the ground. I can’t move. I can’t do anything but lean into it.

“What did you fucking do!” Saint’s roar pulls out of the pain.

I look up in time to see him grab Jace and slam him into the ground. His eyes are bloodshot. He is going to hurt him badly. Clark and Bodhi are there, pulling him off him, as the officials rush to me, carrying me up. 

My knee pulses, and the pain remains, bright and constant. 

I look around for Saint. Where is he? Where is my boyfriend?

“You’ll be fine. It is a strain.” Someone says, but I don’t care. Where is Saint? 

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The nurse checks me out and exhales deeply. “You are alright, Reid. You are a big boy. You'll need a few weeks off but you will be fine.” 

She has my knee bandaged, and I nod stiffly. I’m floating on a sea of painkillers. I crack the knot in my neck and wait for Saint.

Almost immediately, the door opens, and my friends rush in.

Clark, Blake, Bodhi, Chloe, Allie and Birdy. Saint is behind them, plastering himself to the wall. They’re talking over themselves, fussing over me, but he is all I can look at.

He isn’t looking at me. His skin is pale. He is sweating. His eyes are still bloodshot. He is crashing down from the high. Fuck. This is not a good time for that.

Coach fills the doorway like a storm. The nurse fills him in on my progress and leaves us. He looks at me for one moment to make sure I am fine, before turning to Saint.

“What the hell was that out there?” He demands, low and dangerous.

I frown, pushing myself up, even as my body shakes from the pain. “It isn’t his fault, Coach.” 

The door is open. Anyone can walk in. 

“Not his fault? He missed a ball he has caught a thousand times. He got you hurt.” Coach barks at me and turns back to him. “Explain yourself right now, Larue. What the fuck was that?”

Saint doesn’t respond. My hands are trembling. I am bound to this bed, unable to move. I want to stand there with him, defend him, but I can’t. His pills are wild. He cannot stand still. He is trembling. 

I see the moment Coach sees through him, the way his eyes narrow, the way he takes a step closer, tilts Saint’s chin up and looks into his eyes. 

“Are you high?” 

Bile rushes up my throat. 

“High? Saint doesn’t use drugs.” Clark scoffs, cutting in.

“Yeah, he is tired, Coach, not high.” Blake nods, defending him.

“Quiet.” Coach glares at them and focuses on Saint.

“Answer me right this moment. Are you fucking high on substances? Did you get on my fucking field to play for the fucking team while you were high?” 

Saint looks up. His eyes meet mine, and I see the resignation in them. 

No, no, no. Please say no. Please.

I push off the bed, forcing myself to stand. 

“Yes, Coach.” He answers, and my knee almost buckles. 

“What?” 

Everyone is shocked, but the most profound gasp comes from the doorway, where his mom stands, staring at her son in disbelief. My father is behind her. He looks at me, then looks at Saint, before shutting the door firmly.

“What is going on here?” He demands, folding his arms. 

“He is high on whatever shit he took, and he got Reid injured. That’s what is going on.” Coach shakes his head in disappointment. 

“Saint?” June walks closer to him, and he doesn’t look at her. 

Everything is falling apart too fast. No. no. I need to salvage this. I need to find a way around this. 

“You’re done. Get your shit, and get out of my sight. You’re off the team. Effective immediately.” Coach decides calmly, his rage barely contained. 

“What?” Bodhi freezes.

“Coach, it’s Saint …” Clark’s words fade away. 

“He is not going anywhere.” My voice cuts through theirs as something in me snaps clean in half. 

They look at me. Saint finally looks at me, eyes shiny with emotion. He looks like he is going to cry. Good because I'm about to lose my mind too. “Reid, don’t.”

“He is not going anywhere, Coach. He is not off the team.” My voice is raw and shaking with everything I have been holding in for months. 

"Get back in bed, Reid ---"

“If he goes, then I go, too. You want to cut him for this? Then, you cut me off too. I knew he was using, I knew he was high, and I let him play too. You want to punish him? Then, you punish me too, but he is not leaving this team. He is not … he is not leaving me. He is mine. He belongs to me, as much as I belong to him. It is either all or nothing. The decision is in your hands.” I deadpan, even as my heart is about to give out.

Everyone is staring at me, at what I have just done. My father is in the room. His mother is in the room. Our friends are here. Coach is here.

And yet, I admitted to being in love with him. 

If he burns, then we burn together.

I'm done hiding. I'll give up everything for him.

A/N

I will see you next month, which is only a few days away. Thank you so much for reading.