Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“It’s not your call to make,” Jean said.
“I made it anyway,” Kevin said, unrepentant. “Talk to him.”
“I—” Jean started, but Kevin hung up before Jean got out the, “—won’t.”
Jean scowled down at his phone. The temptation to call Kevin back and argue with him was almost blinding, but common sense said to let it go. Thanks to Nathaniel’s risky gamble, his very survival hinged on making a professional athlete’s salary after graduation, which meant he needed to find a team. Asking someone to take him in meant accepting that he was never going back to Evermore, and Jean didn’t know if he could face that yet.
I am a Raven. My place is at Evermore. They were words he’d told himself a thousand times, but the comfort was gone now that his mantra was broken clean through: I am Jean Moreau. I belong to the Moriyamas.
Jean’s stomach churned. He teetered back and forth between the truth he’d built his sanity around to survive Evermore and the truth Kevin forced on him: Jean could not return to Edgar Allan so long as he belonged to Ichirou. Jean didn’t have the right to run from Riko, but how could he possibly defy the head of the Moriyama family? From every angle he was damned.
I am not a Raven, but if I am not a Raven then I am just Jean Moreau, but—
Kevin had acted where Jean could not, but how could he be grateful for this? The Trojans were wholesome in an unsettling, unhealthy way, and Jean was an Evermore Raven. Jean weighed his dismal options before tapping through to his call history and dialing out. If he cost the Trojans their coveted spirit award it was on them; they had to know this was a disaster waiting to happen.
“Jeremy here,” was the immediate and upbeat greeting.
“It’s too early on the west coast for you to be calling me,” Jean said.
“I’m a morning person, what can I say?”
“Of course you are,” Jean muttered.
Jeremy was good enough to pretend he didn’t hear that. “I had a few minutes to talk to Kevin before last night’s game. Sorry for gossiping about you behind your back, but Kevin said you’re a bit of a free agent right now. I discussed it with the coaches last night, and they came back with a unanimous vote. We'd love to have you on the lineup if you’re interested in signing with us.”
“Would you?” Jean said, more a mocking rebuttal than a genuine question. “I lack Kevin’s tolerance for your ridiculous publicity stunt.”
“You’re going to shake things up, we know,” Jeremy said. “Ideally, you’d respect the team enough to not tarnish our image right out of the gate, but we’re willing to risk it to bring you onboard. We’ve got a lot of room left to grow, and the Gold Court could really benefit from some fresh eyes next year.”
Jean stared up at the ceiling, thinking through all the ways this was going to go wrong. If they signed him and he stepped out of line, would they cut him? If two teams got rid of him, would anyone else want to touch him with a ten-foot pole? The only schools willing to risk him would be those at the bottom of the barrel. Jean’s value would tank past the point of recovery, and then what would Ichirou do to him?
Jeremy was still chattering away in his ear, listing selling points of both USC and life in Los Angeles. Jean didn’t wait for him to stop before cutting in with, “Is it in the contract?”
“Uhhh?” Jeremy asked. “Not tracking.”
“Not ruining your precious image,” Jean said. “Is it written in the contract?”
“No,” Jeremy said slowly, sounding more than a little confused. “We kind of, I don’t know, assume that we’re all adults here?”
“You will have to pen it in,” Jean said. “I won’t sign it unless you do.”
It was the only way this worked: if Jean signed something that said he had to behave to be allowed to stay on the lineup, he could bite his tongue and stay his fists. It’d piss him off beyond the telling, but he could follow orders if it meant surviving another day. Without that black-and-white command his nature would get the better of him sooner or later, and then there’d be no saving him. They’d yank him from the lineup to save themselves and he’d be as good as dead.
Jeremy recovered faster than Jean expected him to. “Yeah, sure, if that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes. Kevin said there might be a few hiccups. Disconnects between the Ravens’ way of doing things and our way. We’ll figure out a middle ground as we go. I’ll have Coach fix up the paperwork and we’ll have it emailed over to Coach Wymack first thing Monday morning. Sound like a plan?”