Chapter 94

My entire body recoiled at Elena’s suggestion. Sleep with the new coach to stop him harassing everyone else? No way would I be doing that!

“That’s not happening,” I said, firm. Then, to be a bit petty, I shot back at her, “Why don’t you do it, if you are so sure it will work?”

“How dare you!” Elena snarled.

“It’s a valid question,” said one of the other girls.

“Yeah, someone’s got to do it,” said another.

“Well, it won’t be me,” Elena said.

At once, all of the girls started arguing with each other.

“How about you, then? Or you?”

“No! What about you?”

“Like I would ever!”

“But you just thought I should. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Stop!” Nicole shouted, claiming the attention of the room. “No one is going to sacrifice themselves to this monster.”

The girls fell silent in response.

After a moment, one girl spoke up again, “Then what are we supposed to do?”

“Can’t we report him?” I asked. If Elena had been able to report Coach on such a flimsy accusation as she had originally intended, then surely we could report this new one for sexual harassment, at least.

Elena shook her head. “They won’t act unless he does something. If it stays at talk, they won’t take the report seriously, no matter what terrible thing he says.”

An atmosphere of gloom fell over the room. At once, we all seemed to understand that there wasn’t much we could do but try to make it through this.

“We could quit…” Nicole suggested weakly.

“And lose our spot in the Academy?” answered another girl.

No one seemed willing. I knew I wasn’t.

After everything I’d been through, I couldn’t let one gross jerk ruin everything for me.

We’d have to pretend that everything was fine, and survive.

As we left the locker room, Coach was just outside the door waiting for us. He made comments on each of the girls’ clothes as they passed.

“Your skirt could be shorter. Your shirt could be tighter. Why don’t you let your hair down? Why don’t you smile more?”

When my turn came, Coach merely smirked and smacked me on the backside.

I froze, overwhelmed and mortified by the feel on his hand on my ass, however briefly.

Then, I heard a growl.

Asher stormed forward from the exit, approaching us in large strides.

What was he doing here? Had he come to see me? Walk me home?

Had he seen what just happened?

Yeah, there was no question of that. The growl was his. His blue eyes were a blizzard. His hands were in fists.

“Well, well. I take it this is the boyfriend? I’m the new cheerleading coach.” the new coach snorted. To me, he smirked, “Should have known a piece like you would go for an Alpha kid.”

Asher grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me behind him.

“Are you always so rough, Alpha kid? Can’t handle someone making nice with your girlfriend?”

Asher was taller than this new coach. His growl was loud and low. His body was tense, ready to strike.

The new Coach took it all in and merely shook his head. “You Alpha-types are all the same. You think you rule the roost, huh? Damn brats.”

“Don’t. Touch. Cynthia,” Asher said.

“Or what? You going to take a swing at me?” He laughed, mocking. “I’m a faculty member, kiddo. Hit me and I’ll get you expelled.”

I tugged at the back of Asher’s shirt. “Let’s just go, Asher.”

“You have to respect my authority whether you like it or not,” the new coach said. “Ah, I’m going to pay special attention to Cynthia now. There’s not one damn thing you can do about it.”

I peeked around Asher’s shoulder, and the new coach immediately spotted me.

“See you tomorrow, little cutie.”

Immediately, I ducked back behind Asher.

“You might be faculty now, but you won’t always be,” Asher said, murder in his voice.

“I could be here for years, kid. You going to wait it out?”

Asher’s deadly silence was answer enough.

The new coach laughed again but it was higher-pitched, nervous. When it ended, he sounded angry, “Get the hell out of my face, brat. Before I stop playing nice.”

I wondered if the new coach was projecting. It seemed to me like Asher was the one playing nice. If it weren’t for Coach’s faculty status, he’d likely be a bloody pulp on the floorboards.

As it was, Asher could do nothing with his righteous fury but sit and stew in it.

Grabbing his arm, I pulled him toward the exit. Reluctantly, he gave into me and we left.

Somewhere along our trek along the sidewalk from the gym to Asher’s room, my leading Asher had changed to Asher leading me. He didn’t say a word the entire way, quietly seething beside me.

Only when we entered his room with the door closed behind us, did he turn to me, eyes wild and desperate, and said, “Please let me hold you.”

I would deny him very little, and especially not this. I needed grounding as much as he did. I only wanted Asher to look at me and touch me, not that creepy coach.

I felt dirty and gross all over, despite having just showered. I needed Asher.

Eagerly, I fell into his waiting arms. With his body curling around me, and his arms secure around my waist, I began to piece myself together enough to feel whole again.

Asher’s growl lessened, but not entirely disappeared. I clutched at his shoulders, hoping he could feel how close I wanted him. I was here. This touch was welcome with him. Only him.

“Can we sit?” Asher asked.

I nodded and began to loosen my hold. But he gripped me tighter.

“Asher?”

Together, we sunk straight down to the floor, right where we’d been standing. Asher pulled me into his lap, and while the position mirrored that of the last time we’d been together, there was nothing sexual in this touch.

Everything was comfort and security and warmth.

“Tell me everything that happened,” Asher said. He buried his face into the crux of my neck and shoulder. “Leave nothing out.”

If I didn’t tell him the full truth, he’d only keep pressing. Besides, I was so rattled, I couldn’t hold it inside anymore.

So I told him. About Coach asking our bra sizes, about his inappropriate comments. About his waiting outside the locker room door. About how dirty I felt, when he’d slapped my ass.

Asher clutched me tightly, growl rumbling now and then, but he did not interrupt. When I finished, he gently kissed the side of my neck, over one of the marks he’d made in the past.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Do you feel better?” I asked him.

He shook his head once, curt. “Do you?”

I clung to his shirt, afraid I’d fall to pieces again if I let go. He was the only thing holding me together. “I’m getting there.”

“I can’t act now,” Asher said. “But I will in the future. He won’t get away with this.”

“Don’t get in trouble,” I whispered, afraid. The new coach’s threats weren’t to be taken lightly. Assault on the faculty and staff, even when warranted, would have serious repercussions.

If Asher got expelled over this, I would never forgive myself.

“I will protect you,” he said, voice low and deep, rough. I wondered who was speaking now, Asher or his wolf.

Or both.

He spoke more, too soft for me to hear beyond quiet mumbling.

Yet amidst that soft grumble, I heard one distinct phrase.

“…must protect my mate…”