Broken Strings (Prodigy: 2)

Control

The match was wild.

Fast, aggressive and powerful. Young collage men almost burying each other into the court to keep the ball in their hands.

The stars of the match were Zane and Mike – the aggressive centre who had taken Zane down in the match earlier that same week.

There was no boorish aggression this time however.

This time it was purely a game of skill as they went to war against each other. Mike had all the height; he towered over Zane like David and Goliath. Zane had all the speed and agility. He moved like a cat or a hummingbird, darting in and out of players, calling plays without pause and commanding the court like a general.

Both Locke and Madi watched him with rapped attention, Jess sat between them with the same trance-like focus, the same focus as the rest of the audience.

Back and forth, point after point, both teams determined to destroy the other. It was more then just a win on the line. The team that won that match would go on to compete against teams across the entire country.

"Do you think he'll win with that giant gunning for him?" Rich muttered in Locke's ear.

"He'll win," Locke said, "he beat him before, he'll do it again."

"Good, because I prepared a special party for the winners at our hotel and I want it to be my boy that takes that trophy."

Locke glanced at him as Rich watched Zane take a step back then launch into the air and hurl the ball across the court, into the basket.

The crowd cheered and Rich chuckled slightly.

"He really is fascinating, isn't he?"

Locke fully turned to him. "Stop it, Richard; you're about to try and get a rise out of me, stop it. Say whatever you want to say."

Richard turned to him and grinned. "Use your brain, Locke, you learned to be ruthless from the best."

Locke frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"If you can take the consequences, make things go your way. Both Zane and I have taught you how to play the game of life. Now I want to see you actually play it."

Locke shook his head. He had no idea what Rich was talking about, he just knew that Rich was starting something that was purely for his own amusement and he wanted no part in it. Not when he knew he and Zane were the chess pieces.

Rich smiled as he watched Locke's brain ticking over.

Locke's eyes narrowed.

"Stray ball!"

Locke's eyes flicked around to the court again and he recoiled as the basketball hurtled his way like a bullet. Zane's hand appeared and the ball was slammed to a halt before shooting away to another player.

"Mind your grip! We can't afford any strays!" Zane roared.

He glanced back at the front row, eyes flying straight to Locke, before he took off again, catching up with the rest of his team to help catch the ball again, which had just been stolen.

"Ever there to protect you," Rich muttered, leaning back against his seat. "Where would you be today without him?"

"In a practice room getting ready for my concert tomorrow," Locke said simply and turned in his seat so he was closer to Jess rather then Rich.

Once he was settled, he his eyes shifted to Zane again, watching him move to back up a teammate, his blue eyes as sharp and hard as diamonds.

His dark skin gleamed with sweat and his powerful muscles rippled beneath as he drew in slow, deep breaths, not yet winded despite the heavy exertion. As before, he moved like he was dancing, limbs fluid but precise, every action purposefully chosen and controlled.

His dark eyes flickered to Madi who was momentarily focused on her phone. His gazed travelled down her, once again taking in her subtle curves and flowing hair, everything in just the right place and just the right size for her.

He glanced back to Zane.

Controlled.

So controlled on the court.

Off the court.

Mindful of what he did and what he said.

Jess was right. Zane couldn't and wouldn't do anything that would endanger his dream and career.

That was why he was so controlled.

So controlled.

.... So what was he like when he lost control?