Motherfucker. It’s the asshole who texted Brielle last week. With all the bullshit going down with Colby, I’d almost let this asshole slip through my fingers, but now that he’s on my field playing right alongside my sister’s rapist, it’ll be a two for one deal.
The thought has my gaze lifting to Bri, and I can’t help but notice how pissed off she looks. She’s not enjoying this game even a little bit.
Coach hollers something from the sidelines and not a moment later, the ball is in play again. We go hard, and when we throw an interception and are suddenly on defense, I couldn’t be more thrilled.
My boys go just as hard with their tackles, taking those assholes down one by one. The ball moves from one player to the next, and when Colby finally gets his hands on it, I move like fucking lightning.
With every step I take, I hear Addie’s screams, hear Brielle’s cries, feel their pain, but nothing is stopping me now. Coach Wyld’s piercing tone roars from the sideline, knowing damn well what’s about to happen, but I’m well within my rights. Besides, what kind of player would I be if I just let him pass?
Colby shoves past two of my teammates, and there’s no denying just how fast he is, but he’s no match for Logan. No one is a match for Logan. I push myself faster, and the closer I get, the further my control begins to slip. Anger boils through my veins, and I don’t give a shit if this gets me sent off the field or fucking suspended. Nothing can stop me now.
Colby’s gaze flashes toward me, and just as his eyes widen, I barrel into him with the force of a fucking freight train. His feet lift right off the ground, and I send him back a few feet before slamming his ass down with a brutal blow, all of my weight coming down with it. He’s visibly winded and gasps as it takes everything I have to push myself off the bastard and take an innocent step back.
A short-lived victory pulses through me, and I hide my smirk as everyone on the Bradford grandstand gets to their feet and cheers, screaming my name. I laugh to myself, that response usually only happens when someone has scored a touchdown or made the best play known to man, but Addison is Bradford’s princess, and there’s not a soul in those stands who doesn’t know what this bastard did to her—even the stands on the opposite side of the field.
Bradford is coming for blood.
Chanel flies to her feet in her ridiculous little cheerleading outfit and screams, throwing her pom poms into the air and doing one of those insane high kicks, prompting the rest of the squad to get up with her, celebrating this win, despite how small it may be.
I put myself back into position, hoping like hell that I caused some type of damage. I don’t get called out for it, and as I glance back toward Coach Wyld, the rage in his eyes tells me that I’m going to get my ass handed to me as soon as the game is over.
Hudson moves in beside me to get into position, and as the crowd begins to settle, he smirks at the way Colby discreetly rubs his chest. “Next time, go for the throat.”
My tackle only angers Colby as the game goes on, prompting him to keep coming at me, with or without the ball, but I’m un-fucking-touchable. I put him down four more times while the rest of my team does the same, not allowing the bastard to get through our defense. It’s not even halftime yet, and the fucker is quickly wearing thin. Hell, I even get to take Roxten Hargrove down, and it’s some of the best fun I’ve ever had out on this field.
There ain’t no stopping us now!
The ball lands in my hands, and as Logan takes off at a sprint, I rear back before letting it fly. He stays ahead of the ball, and I watch the game play out like pieces on a chess board. Riley runs after him, ready to have his back at a moment’s notice, but Logan won’t need it. Not today.
Logan launches himself into the air, collecting the ball with ease, while Hope Falls races after him, desperate to save themselves and what’s left of their game.
Riley and Logan effortlessly get to the endzone, dodging every tackle until Logan slams the ball down in a clean touchdown just seconds before the halftime buzzer sounds over the crowd’s roar. Riley barrels into Logan, the two of them celebrating as the rest of our players catch up, and just as I go to take off after them, Jax yells out. “TANNER! WATCH YOUR BACK.”