Micah’s POV
Did I miss him? Was that a serious question or some kind of twisted accusation? I wished I had the nerve to shout at him, but looking at his battered face kept the words stuck in my throat. He looked absolutely brutal. His nose was swollen and twisted, and the white tape stretched across the bridge looked entirely messy.
Damon must have noticed me staring at his face. He reached up, lightly tapping the taped bridge of his nose before giving me a casual wave of his hand. "Don’t look so worried, little reporter. It is fine. It just needs to look normal before The Varsity Clash starts."
I frowned, the unfamiliar name making me incredibly uneasy. "The varsity what?"
Damon let out a low laugh, clearly amused by my ignorance. "This is your first year on campus, right? Yeah, that explains it. The Varsity Clash is the massive annual sports tournament between our university and whatever rival college decides to challenge us that year. To the administration, it is all about school spirit, campus cooperation, and all that regular garbage." He mocked the official description by making a lazy waving motion with his fingers.
"But to the actual student body, it is a war to see who is truly superior. It proves if our basketball team is better than theirs, if our soccer team can crush theirs, and most importantly, if our hockey team can stay on top of the food chain."
A strange spark of curiosity hit me before I could stop it. "Who won the tournament last year?"
Damon’s smirk turned sharp and vindictive. "Well, the rival school took the trophy. Noah was completely humiliated. You should have seen the miserable look on his face when they lost on our own home ice." He started chuckling, the sound echoing off the sterile walls of the clinic.
His nose might not have been completely broken by my brother, but right now, I felt a strong urge to break it myself. Still, the thought of this upcoming tournament made my stomach twist with anxiety. The entire campus was going to be completely chaotic. Noah would be working himself to the bone because there was no way his pride would let him suffer another massive failure.
Damon suddenly stepped closer, completely cutting off my train of thought. "I actually got a chance to read your little debut article this morning."
My defensive wall immediately went up, and I crossed my arms tightly over my chest. "So what?"
"I will give your writing a solid eight out of ten," he said, tilting his head with a highly arrogant grin.
My scowl deepened. "Why on earth would you think I wrote that piece just to get a performance rating from you?"
"Well, you definitely could have earned a perfect score if you had attached a much clearer photo of my dick," Damon countered, his tone dripping with sheer confidence. "I really don’t mind letting the entire student body look at what I am packing."
"I am pretty sure the rest of the world would rather look at a blank wall than see any part of your body," I snapped back. I honestly did not understand why every single conversation with this guy turned into a frustrating battle of words.
"Trust me, sweetheart," Damon purred, leaning down slightly. "Humanity would gladly beg on their knees to kiss my ass."
"Then I would honestly rather turn into a stone," I replied, rolling my eyes.
"Is that right? It seems like I will just have to figure out a way to make stones beg to kiss my ass too."
"Damon!" I yelled, my face flushing red with heat as he burst out into a loud, mocking laugh.
Before I could snap at him again, a loud vibration echoed from his pocket. Damon reached down and pulled out his phone, and the smug amusement on his face vanished instantly. His features turned cold as he stared down at the glowing screen. I watched him closely, desperately wanting to know who had the power to change his mood that quickly.
Damon pressed the answer button right in front of me, his voice shifting into a chilling, detached tone. "Hello, father."
The speaker volume was high enough for me to hear the older man’s response. The voice on the other end sounded incredibly cold and powerful. "I just saw the viral video of you getting attacked by that Miller boy on the ice. It seems like the university administration is too soft, so I am going to have to take care of this case myself."
A sudden jolt of terror struck my chest, making me flinch. Damon noticed my reaction immediately. He leaned in closer, using his free hand to gently slide his fingers against my burning cheek while keeping his eyes locked onto mine.
"I am completely fine, father," Damon said into the receiver, his gaze trapping me in place.
"It is not fine at all," his father snapped back over the line. "I am going to call the school immediately and ensure that Miller kid pays for putting his hands on a Silver. If he does not offer a public apology and step down, I will make sure the board handles it legally."
My eyes widened in absolute horror. Panic flooded my entire body, and my hands began to tremble violently. If Noah lost his captaincy or faced legal trouble because of this, his entire future would be completely ruined. I frantically started rubbing my palms together, shaking my head at Damon in absolute desperation.
"Please, don’t let him do it," I whispered softly, tears of panic stinging the corners of my eyes.
Damon’s smirk returned, slow and incredibly wicked. He was thoroughly enjoying every single second of my distress, soaking in the sight of the holy boy begging for mercy.
"Are you really going to make the Miller kid pay for this, father?" Damon asked aloud, his fingers sliding down from my cheek to wrap slowly around the front of my neck, applying just enough pressure to make my pulse race.
"I will. How worse is your injury?" his father asked.
I reached up, my fingers clutching desperately onto the fabric of Damon’s shirt as I shook my head, silently crying out for him to stop the call.
Damon pulled the phone away from his ear for a brief second, tugging me closer until my chest collided with his heavy torso. His hand remained firm on my neck. "Are you going to pay for your brother’s crimes, little reporter?"
"I... I will," I replied, the words choking in my throat as I stared up into his dark eyes. "Don’t let your father hurt him."
Damon’s eyes flared with a strange, dark satisfaction. "Mmm, I am falling so hard for you, Micah."
He casually brought the phone back to his ear, his voice turning completely smooth as he addressed his father again. "Forget it, father. It is nothing critical. If it gets messy, I will let you know. Leave the situation alone for now."
"If you say so, son. Be careful," his father said before turning off the phone.
The line went completely dead. Damon slowly lowered his device, tilting his head to the side as a dangerous, hungry smile spread across his lips. He leaned down until his breath brushed against my lips.
"Now that we have settled your brother’s debt, let’s get that inspiration for article two ready, babe."