Callum

My nerves are shot. It’s been three days since I spoke to Amelia. Three days that she has been sitting in jail because of some stupid ass trumped up charges. My lawyer has been working nonstop to get her and Griffin out, but the judge won’t assign a bail to her until after her first court hearing, which is this morning, and Griffin has to wait until his preliminary hearing.

Unfortunately, I won’t even be able to be there for her.

Part of the deal with my immediate release was that I stayed out of trouble and I showed up for each and every game and played the best I could. Fucking bullshit, if you ask me. My boy is laid up in the hospital, and I’m forced to travel with the fucking team across the country to play ball? Yeah, that makes sense.

I still don’t know how Carson is doing. The hospital won’t let me in to see him and won’t give me any information on him, but Mr. Goins has paperwork being processed right now to revoke that. I can’t imagine how scared he is right now, not having anyone there with him. I hate fucking red tape.

I just want my family.

“Ready, Breezy?” Coach asks, shaking the shoulder pads, pulling me from my thoughts. I need to get my head in the here and now before I end up on the ground again.

“Sure, Coach, let’s do this.” At least while I’m on the field, my mind is on something else other than my fucked up life.

I run out on the field with the rest of the team, and the stadium goes wild. It feels good. I belong here. In the middle of the field, I gather in the huddle with the team and brace for the first play of the game.

“Breezy. I know this is hard on you, but let’s wipe the field with these ass wipes and then we will go take care of Carson. Okay?”

I nod, surprised when the rest of the team yell their agreement.

“Split screen left on two.”

“Break.” We all yell and then take our places on the field. For the first time since this shit began, I don’t feel completely alone. I should have known I could count on my team to be there. We are more than just a team. We are brothers brought together by the love of football.

The ball snaps, and I go long. Tonight is my night. I can feel it. The stars have aligned, and my mojo is flowing. It’s time to wipe the field with these ass wipes. They aren’t going to know what—or who—hit them.

I go deep, and I see the ball in the air. This corner can't stay with me as I run under the ball, snapping it out of the air with ease. I roll into the end zone, free and clear, and then stand and spike the ball, throwing my hands in the air. Touchdown!!!

The crowd screams with both joy and outrage all mingled together to fuel my soul. Their cries feed me, lifting me up. I missed this feeling. I needed this. I’m not letting up.

Defense holds them to a three and out. No score for the ass wipes today. I throw my hand in the air and wave it around, telling the coach to keep feeding me the ball. He nods. I think he knows I need this as much as I do. I’m on fire tonight. I’m channeling every emotion running through me and pushing it out onto the field tonight. I’m faster than I’ve ever been. More accurate, better.

We run the ball. First play, I crack back down on the linebacker. Howard, our tail backer, breaks it outside for a twelve-yard gain.

I want the fucking ball.

I need it.

Coach calls a Z out pass. I line up wide right. Double coverage. They can't stick me. Balls snaps, and I cut toward the middle and then back out toward the back of the end zone. Bitches can't stick me. I'm three yards behind them as I catch the ball. You can't teach speed.

I'm out!!!

Touchdown number two, and we aren’t even six minutes into the game.

Cody celebrates in the end zone with us. I grab his face mask and look him in the eye. “Keep the balls coming to me, and I will make you fucking famous tonight.”

“Fuck yeah, man. Let’s do this shit.”

Again, our defense holds. We are getting the ball back for the third time in the first quarter. Cody is gonna break the teams passing record for yards in a game if he just keeps throwing me the ball.

Nobody on this field can stick me.

I line up slot right. The ball’s snapped, and I step back for the screen. Time to show that I'm not all speed! I catch the ball and juke the first defender. I head to the edge and am met by the linebacker. I lower my shoulder and flatten him like a train hitting a bicycle going seventy miles per hour. As I get around the edge, I pick up eleven yards.

First down.

The crowd has become my own personal cheering squad. My name is chanted over and over and over.

It's my night. Nobody can stop me.

Coach calls a run play next, but we don’t have time for that cheap shit tonight. Go big or go home. We are already up by fourteen in the first quarter.

“Fuck that, give me the ball,” I tell Cody. “Let’s do this right.”

He calls fly right and I smile. “See you in the end zone. Get ready to celebrate again, boys.” Ball’s in the air, and I'm already gone.

Touchdown number three, all in the first quarter. We are unstoppable. Shit, we are untouchable. The team owner wanted me to show and play hard, and by God, I am doing just that, but if he wants this to continue, then I’m going to have a few conditions for him after the game.

First things first. I want my girl out of the nasty ass jail cell.

Now.