Page 57 of The Perfect Pass
Clearly not. Where was he supposed to live between now and the end of the season? The only B&B in town was named Victory Inn, so he had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t be able to snag a room there.
So much for giving Bishop a good home. Come tomorrow, Jackson wouldn’t have a roof over his head.
They’re trying to force me to quit. They can’t fire me, so this is their plan B.
Now he knew why they’d been so quiet for the past few days—they’d been trying to come up with a way to drive him out of town.
“There seems to be a problem with my housing,” he said evenly. “No worries. I’m sure I can figure something out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Dr. Dunne’s forehead creased and he stroked the dog for a quiet moment while Jackson continued to run through his limited options in his head.
The fact that he had a fifty-five-pound, wheezing, snorting roommate to consider magnified the problem tenfold.
Then his phone chimed with yet another text.
What now?He was almost afraid to look.
“Go ahead.” Dr. Dunne nodded at his device. “Sounds like you have a lot going on. That might be important.”
“Thank you. Again, I’m sorry for all the interruptions.” Jackson glanced at the display, expecting to see another message from the Victory Club. What more could they do to him at this point, though? Change the locks on the athletic office?
He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the contact information for Principal Dean flash on his lock screen. Texting him another reminder to not be tardy seemed a little extreme, but that was his boss in a nutshell.
Jackson swiped to read the text, and it was immediately obvious from the missive’s length that it wasn’t another pithy comment about his punctuality. He girded himself for whatever was coming as his eyes canned the paragraph, and then he froze, because he could scarcely wrap his head around what he was reading.
“Coach?” Dr. Dunne prompted again, and his tone was so gentle and understanding that Jackson wanted to crumble.
He couldn’t, though, because things had just gone from bad to far, far worse.
“It’s from the principal.” He raked a hand through his hair, tugging hard at the ends. As if sensing his distress, Bishop let out a soft whine. “The players I suspended have been absent all week, and all three sets of parents just notified the registrar’s office that the boys will no longer be attending Bishop Falls High.”
The veterinarian didn’t look the slightest bit shocked. “I was afraid something like this might happen. I’ve known those boys’ fathers for quite some time, and I’m sure they can’t conceive of a world in which their sons aren’t star athletes.”
He smiled, but there was a wistfulness in his gaze that told Jackson he was thinking about his son…what could’ve been.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Ethan,” Jackson said, because it didn’t seem right to let the moment pass without acknowledging his loss.
Dr. Dunne nodded and dropped his gaze to Bishop. He spent a long moment caressing the bulldog’s soft ears before speaking again. “Marvin Stokes owns a trailer park in a neighboring town just outside the district. I’d bet a dollar to a doughnut all three families are using a mobile home address out there to enroll their kids at a different school where they’ll be able to play out the rest of the season.”
“You think they’d really go that far to keep their kids on a team?” Of course they would. Jackson wasn’t even sure why he was asking, except he needed a beat to wrap his head around this most recent development.
He no longer had anywhere to live, and Stokes, Collier and Brown were most likely now playing for another team. The only question now was, which district? Were the newly patched-together Bulldogs going to have to go up against their former starters?
“Those parents would do anything to keep their boys playing, especially if they’ve got a shot at college ball,” Dr. Dunne said.
Jackson’s jaw clenched. “Where is this trailer park?”
“I wish I had better news for you, Coach,” Calla’s father said, his face drawn and mouth set in a somber line. “It’s in Rustwood.”
“Rustwood,” Jackson repeated woodenly. He felt like he’d just been sucker punched. “We play the Rustwood Roosters next Friday night for homecoming.”
This was it, wasn’t it? The big, bad threat of revenge that everyone warned him about had finally come to pass and, somehow, it was even worse than he’d imagined. Stokes, Collier and Brown knew all the team plays. He’d just spent a solid week rebuilding, and now they were going to have to start all over again. From scratch…
With only a week left before the homecoming game.
“You know, whenever I’ve gotten tough news, I’ve found that having a good support system is the most important thing of all,” Dr. Dunne said.
Jackson dipped his head in agreement. As he absently watched the veterinarian’s hand moving soothingly over Bishop’s back, his attention snagged once again on the gold championship ring on Dr. Dunne’s hand. When he lifted his gaze to Calla’s father’s face, he noticed that the vet was looking at it, too.
