Page 127 of Redemption
“And I’ve regretted it every day. I won’t keep making the same mistakes with you, MJ. I might never get over the guilt of your brother’s death, but I won’t let you suffer anymore because of it. I’ll chase you to the moon if I have to.”
“Because you love me?” Mischief shines in her eyes.
“Yeah, baby, because I love you.”
Chapter 38
Hayes
22 Years Old
Nerves skitter over my skin as I slide my helmet on.
One more game. We’ve got one more game to win, and then we are heading to the championship. One more game to impress the scouts.
Beside me, Langston buckles his chin strap into place and slaps my helmet.
“You got my back, H?”
“Always, man. Always.”
“Then let’s do this.”
He takes off out of the tunnel, leading the team, and I follow, ready for a game that will change our lives.
We chase the sunlight out of the tunnel, and I have to blink against the brightness of the field.
It’s a beautiful day to play football.
The rest of the team takes the sidelines, stretching, but I turn, searching the stands for a fiery red hair and a jersey that has my name on the back.
I find her sitting two rows up in the student section, smiling down at me. Even if we lose today, I won’t be upset—not when my girl looks at me like that.
Throwing a salute to her, I join my team and stretch.
The captains meet on the field, and we win the coin toss, choosing to defer until after halftime. And for the rest of the game, things seem to go our way. During the whole game, we stay one touchdown ahead until the fourth quarter, when the other team scores, tying the game.
The team is gassed at this point, but we need one more touchdown.
One more push to win it all.
Langston gathers the team in the huddle with a minute and a half left on the scoreboard. Plenty of time to score.
“Hayes, get open downfield. The ball will meet you there.”
I nod, not even questioning it. If Langston says the ball will be there, then it will.
We line up on the line. The whistle blows. The clock ticks down, and I run like the rest of my life depends on it. My feet thunder against the ground, eating up the turf until I stand in the end-zone. The ball flies through the air, hitting me square in the numbers.
A perfect throw.
A perfect catch.
A perfect win.
We won the game. The crowd should be cheering, but as I lift the ball in the air, the stadium is quiet.
My heart thunders in my ears.
