Chapter 31

“All of you,” Marian said briskly, pointing her finger at Cass, Beau, Ty, Tom, and Danny. “With me. Now.” She marched into the conference room that adjoined the locker room and stood by the door waiting for them. Tom looked at Danny and saw his own panic reflected back. Cass looked like he could chew glass, and Beau was as grim as Tom had ever seen him. Ty, of course, looked like a choirboy who hadn’t a care in the world. His arm was in a sling and he wasn’t in uniform, since he wouldn’t be playing. He jogged over to Marian like a puppy expecting a treat. Tom knew what was coming wasn’t going to be anything like a treat.

He and Danny brought up the rear as they entered the conference room. The door closed behind them like the door of a jail cell. “Sit,” Marian ordered. They all sat. Marian had really mastered that drill-sergeant tone in the last few months.

“Do not start,” Cass jumped in before she could say anything. His voice was sharp. “I’ve heard enough.”

“I don’t think so,” Marian snapped back. “I don’t know what is up with all of you, but there better not be any shenanigans today.”

“Shenanigans?” Cass barked. “I want to rip his head off and shove it so far up his ass the coroner can’t find it. That is beyond shenanigans.”

“Amen,” Beau said, sitting back in his chair, legs spread, looking like some gangbanger, with his neck tatts and dangerous attitude. Marian didn’t look impressed.

“You two are this close”—she held her fingers a millimeter apart—“to getting benched.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Cass said, challenge in his tone.

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” she said. “I already talked to Shannon. He’s up to speed on the situation.”

“You told him?” Danny asked in shock. “Everything?”

“Everything,” Marian said. “He’s the head coach. He needed to know what was going on if this game goes south.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Tom told her. “Right?” He looked around the table and no one but Ty would meet his eyes. “Guys?” he tried again. “Right?”

“What is wrong with you people?” Marian yelled, losing her cool. “He’s just a stupid jerk. Are you really going to ruin the season because of him? Hasn’t he ruined enough?”

“He deserves whatever he gets,” Danny said belligerently. “I can’t believe you told coach without telling me.”

“Get over it, Danny,” Marian said unsympathetically. “You and I both came to Birmingham to move on and leave the past behind. I have. You need to.”

“Oh, it’s that simple?” Danny said, standing up. “You’re just full of advice now, aren’t you? Got it all together, have you? Well I remember all the years you didn’t have it all together. I remember the late-night phone calls, the failed relationships, the panic attacks. And I remember what he took from me, too, with his lies and his arrogance, constantly throwing it in my face. Maybe you’ve moved on, but I haven’t. Maybe this isn’t about you. Maybe I want to get some of my own back.” Tom was sitting next to him and could see him shaking, he was so angry.

“It is totally about her,” Cass declared, standing up and pounding his fist on the table, confronting Danny. “That fucking asshole deserves my foot up his ass and my fist in his face, and he’s going to get it. He tried to fucking rape her. He belongs to us.” He gestured to Beau, sitting next to him.

“Yes, thanks for the recap,” Marian said drily. “Settle down.” She turned to Danny. “I’m sorry. I had no business diminishing how you were affected by what happened. And thank you again for answering when I made those late-night phone calls, and for letting me cry on your shoulder. And for never blaming me. Because of me your career was at risk. You had to sacrifice your principles and you’ve lived with that hanging over your head. But going after Darren isn’t going to make that go away, and it will only cause more problems. Are you going to let him shape the rest of your career the way he did the beginning of it?”

“Damn, good speech, coach,” Ty told Marian appreciatively. He turned to Danny. “Look, she’s right. I worked hard this season to get us here. Don’t blow it now. Sure, Peltz is a fucking menace to society and should be euthanized like a rabid dog. But we don’t get to make that decision. And, yeah, this is about Marian. At least, for the rest of us.”

Tom raised his hand. “Sorta kinda about Danny for me,” he admitted. That earned him a strange look from Marian, but the others blew it off.

“Fine,” Ty said. “Look, Darren Peltz may have been the villain, but the real bad guy—no offense, Marian—is her dad, and you know it. And beating on Peltz today isn’t going to affect Rufus Sedgeway one way or another. Except to make him happy, I suppose, as he watches you throw away your career. It’s a dick move, Danny. Don’t do it. Because if you do, then everything that happened was for nothing.” He turned to Cass and Beau. “And you know Peltz is going to be in your faces all day trying to get you to start something. You want to get to him? Ignore him. Have your best game of the season. Hell, of your careers. At his expense.” Finally he turned to Tom. “I don’t need to give you this speech, do I?”

Tom shook his head. “No, sir. As much as I’d like to knock Peltz into next week for what he did to Marian and Danny, this isn’t the time or place.” Not a lie, and he hadn’t made any promises. He was getting pretty good at the noncommittal answer. Must be Danny’s influence.

“Meaning what?” Marian said, pouncing on his word choice. She’d learned from Danny, too. “There will be a time and place? When? Have you planned something?”

“Jeez, Marian, lighten up,” Tom said. “No, I haven’t. But Peltz doesn’t like to be ignored. He’ll come looking for trouble. I’m just saying we need to wait him out, is all.”

Beau had a scary smile on his face as he nodded. “I like how you think, kid. Wait him out. Make him play stupid. Capitalize on his mistakes.”

“Outplaying them will be the best revenge,” Tom argued. That and ripping Peltz’s head off his neck. But Tom didn’t add that last part.

“No,” Danny said, sounding tired. “But it will be sweet just the same.” He walked over to Marian and she hugged him tightly. “It is about you. You know that, right?” he said. He spoke softly, but the whole room heard him.

“I know,” Marian said, her voice tight. “Thanks.”

They were right. Darren Peltz didn’t like to be ignored. During the first half, Tom and Ty had run themselves ragged keeping Danny, Cass, and Beau from showing any emotion when Peltz sauntered by the sideline. Marian was an ice queen. She completely ignored him, except to call the plays and note his position and moves on the field. If you didn’t know what had happened between them, you’d never guess. And the more Peltz was ignored, the more he walked by the sidelines talking shit. He didn’t say anything specifically about Marian, but there were some references to players being pussy-whipped by the coaching staff, which pissed everybody off, not just Marian’s inner circle. Shannon got into it with the ref for not calling Peltz for unsportsmanlike conduct, but they’d drawn the short straw on the officiating team that day and got a bunch of assholes who didn’t think women belonged in the NFL. Just perfect. Today of all days.

While the entire offensive line tried to ignore Peltz, the Rebels defensive linemen had drawn a great big target on his back. He was getting hit more than the Vegas quarterback, Shaun Penney, who’d been sacked more than any other quarterback in the NFL this season. Even King Ulupoka, who was the nose tackle, had taken Peltz down. The Rebels had drawn three penalties so far—two for holding and one for pass interference. Vegas hadn’t been able to capitalize on any of them. By halftime, the score was seven to three in the Rebels favor.

When they walked into the locker room, Shannon was already pacing in front of the whiteboard. “Everybody get in here and sit down,” he said. He didn’t yell or anything, but when Shannon spoke, people listened. He had the sort of voice that carried, even in a crowded room. He was pretty young for a head coach, just forty-two, but he’d earned the respect of every player on the team with his evenhandedness and easygoing attitude. He was always positive, always upbeat, something a lot of the screwups on the Rebels roster hadn’t experienced from their coaches in the past. Tom liked him a lot. Shannon had shown a lot of faith in Tom this season, and Tom felt his game had risen to another level under Shannon and Marian’s coaching. He was definitely more focused, and the plays they called were intuitive and player driven, a winning combination for the Rebels so far this season. Tom shoved Kitt Doyle off the bench and sat next to Danny. Everyone knew that was his spot. His lucky spot. Doyle was going to throw his game off if he came between Tom and Danny.

“Listen up,” Shannon said, more intensely than usual. “I know Peltz is being a problem out there. He’s got a history with a few people here—” There were catcalls and expletives from several players, including Cass and Beau. Not surprisingly, Danny kept his mouth shut. He didn’t like letting people into his personal business. Tom was pretty sure Marian was going to hear from Danny later about telling Shannon. “I know, I know,” Shannon said, waving his hands in a calm-down gesture. “But that’s always been Peltz’s way. He and Danny used to compete for most hated player in the NFL.”

“Danny’s a sweetheart,” Nigel called out. “He’s just misunderstood.” Half the team laughed, while Danny reluctantly grinned and gave Nigel the finger.

“The Rough Riders are down. Peltz is probably going to step up his game. We’ve all seen him going after Marian out there, trying to draw a penalty from us. Don’t give it to him. And King,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, “what the hell? Tackling a wide receiver? That’s not your job.”

“He got to me, coach,” King said, shaking his head sadly, as he sat calmly on a bench beside Sam, who covered his mouth, clearly trying to hide a smile. “You know I got a temper.” This flat-out lie made the entire team laugh. Nothing ever got to King, and they knew it. Tom had never even heard him raise his voice, even on the field.

“Well, you can talk to Danny about anger-management classes after the game,” Shannon told him sarcastically. He looked around at the team, the atmosphere much more relaxed than when they’d entered the locker room. “Come on, guys,” Shannon said. “We got this. We have totally got this. But we have to play smart. Peltz and the Vegas offense will get frustrated out there and they’ll screw up. That’s their playbook. You watched the film. They haven’t won a game going into the second half trailing since October. We have every advantage in this game. Marlon has brought his A game tonight.” Shannon clapped loudly and the whole team joined in. Marlon had earned it. Having his first game as starting quarterback against the Rough Riders was a trial by fire. Peltz wasn’t the only asshole on the team. In Tom’s experience, the personality of a team was taken from its most vocal player, whether good or bad. For the Rebels, that player was Ty, with Cass running a close second. Ty was as optimistic as Shannon, so it was a good fit for the Rebels. And Cass had his heart and soul invested in the Rebels. He’d bleed for the team, and they all knew it.

“Marian?” Shannon asked, turning to her. She stepped forward to speak.

“Mar-i-an,” the whole team sang, dragging her name out into three syllables. Tom had played the lead in a high school production of The Music Man and he’d taught them that line from the “Marian the Librarian” song. They did that every time she got up to speak in front of the team. It was a thing now, a way to tease her without crossing a line. She glared at him when they did it, but Tom could tell she secretly liked it.

“I have a history with Darren,” Marian admitted. Beside Tom, Danny tensed, but he continued to stare down at the carpet, never looking up. “We dated in college and it didn’t end well. Enough said. So let me apologize for causing him to be such a major asshole.” The whole team laughed.

“He’s always been an asshole,” Dominique Reyes called out. “From birth. Ain’t your fault.” The rest of the team called out agreement.

“The point is, he’s letting my presence, and let’s face it, Cass and Beau’s, affect him. Let’s not do the same thing. We can capitalize on it. Use it against him, and the Rough Riders. Most of his team has no idea what’s going on with him, I can tell. And some of them don’t like it. Use that. Talk to them at the line of scrimmage. Turn them against each other. We’ve all seen it this year. Darren snipes at half the team in the second half when they’re trailing. He’ll be out there blaming Penney. He does it every time. Those two do not get along, and word is the team is divided. A team divided cannot win. Are we a team?” she asked loudly.

“Hell, yes!” they called out. Tom loved this part of halftime, when they got all inspirational and shit. It was his favorite part of playing football games.

“Are we a team divided?” she asked with a concerned frown. “Because that didn’t sound like a team effort.”

“No! We are a team!” Tom looked over and found Danny watching him. Without thinking, Tom reached over, put his hand on Danny’s knee, and squeezed it. No one seemed to notice or think much of it, so he left his hand there. Danny didn’t push it off. He looked away from Tom, over at Marian, and when she prompted them again, Danny shouted, “We are a team!” with the rest of them.

“We don’t play by the rules,” Marian shouted. “Why?”

“Because we’re Rebels!” the team answered.

“We make our own rules,” Marian continued. “Why?”

“Because we’re Rebels!”

“What do Rebels do?” she yelled.

“Fight!” the team answered. It became a chant. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Danny seemed as into the team dynamic as Tom was. Maybe he was ready to let it go. Maybe being a Rebel meant more to him than getting back at Darren Peltz.