Page 25 of The Way We Win

Clasping my hands, I hold them in front of my mouth as I watch him. He doesn’t seem to be hustling as hard as Austin did to get clear, and when Austin scans the field, he doesn’t have any passing options.

Two big guys surround my son, but they don’t sack him. They put their hands on his shoulders, and Jack tweets the whistle.

“That’s a sack,” Garrett explains. “They’re not going to nail him in practice. No point hurting our best player.”

He gives me a wink, but my chest is tight as the man in the bleachers loudly complains again. “You call that leadership?”

My stomach tenses, and I glance up to see Levi’s dad on his feet striding down to where we’re standing beside the field. Levi and Austin are with Jack again, and he’s talking quietly to them.

Levi’s eyes cut from Jack to his dad fuming beside us, but he quickly turns, nodding before heading out to the field where Austin again is in the quarterback spot.

“He’s not going to start him, is he?” George Powell glares at Garrett, and I’m impressed by his bravery.

Garrett Bradford is several inches taller than him and 250 pounds of pure muscle, not to mention he’s Jack’s brother.

Still, Garrett is pretty laid-back for a big guy. I’ve only seen him angry a few times, and both were when bullies tried to mess with Dylan and Liv. Although, I heard he stuffed a guy into a dumpster when they were in high school for bullying Craig for being gay.

“Jack puts the boys where they shine the brightest, where they benefit the team most.” Garrett gives the man a tight smile, and there’s a hint of warning in his tone. “He’ll be watching them all week—and all season.”

George crosses his arms, and I take a subtle step away fromthem, closer to Sadie and Kimmie, who is still cheering for Austin like nothing happened.

The boys break, and again, Austin falls back scanning the field. This time Levi attempts to run up the middle and is immediately stopped by one of the boys on D-line.

Garrett nods and claps. “Good hustle, Darnell!”

I’m still watching my quarterback son, wondering what he’ll do or if he’ll get sacked again.

Just in time, Noah Redford appears downfield, and Austin pulls back to fire a high, wobbly pass in his direction. The ball just leaves his hands when another big boy grabs Austin around the waist, playfully lifting him off the ground instead of tackling him.

It’s a momentary distraction from what’s happening with the ball.

Noah doubles back, stretching hard to complete the pass. It almost bounces off his fingers, but he manages to hold onto it, getting the first down.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Garrett’s growling yell sends a thrill to my toes.

It was an amazing catch, and Kimmie Joy erupts into more cheers and screaming, holding her hands over her head and jumping up and down, kicking her leg almost to her nose.

“Lucky break,” George grumbles beside me, which ignites my Mama Bear instincts.

“Well, he’s definitely not getting help from certain players.” My eyes are laser-focused on George, and I’m ready to go at it.

He’s coming for my son, and I’m ready to go twelve rounds to defend him. It’s obvious Levi is only performing his best when he’s in the quarterback spot unlike Austin, who gives 110 percent wherever he’s placed.

“Way to hustle, D-line!” Garrett steps forward, breaking our contact almost like he knows.

He’s smiling when Jack gives his whistle a short tweet andtells the boys that’s it for today. It’s hot as hell, and they’re all dripping with sweat.

They head straight for the big green cooler, but Jack walks over to where Logan is standing, and Garrett goes to them as well. They’re only a few feet away, and I can hear their conversation.

“D-line’s coming together.” Logan holds up a hand, and Garrett grabs it in a clasp. “You sure you don’t want to join the coaching staff?”

“Who would keep Newhope safe?” Garrett grins. “I’m building a rapport in the community.”

“Looks like your decision is clear, Coach.” George Powell doesn’t miss a chance to walk straight up to where the three of them are talking.

Jack’s jaw tightens, and I know that look. Jack Bradford doesn’t like being told what to do with his team, which he takes very seriously—especially not by pushy parents.

“I’ll see how he does this week.” Jack’s voice is even, and his blue eyes fix on George’s.

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