Page 57 of The Comeback

“I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. Coach Slater is huge on competition. He’s probably challenging you to step up your game even farther.”

“I’m sure.” I nod, but can’t muster the same optimism he has. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Without waiting to see if they respond, I jog to the tunnel and down the hallway toward the dressing room.

I’ve got to talk to my agent. If he hasn’t heard anything from the owner, this is bad news. I’ve been here for weeks and not one word about a contract. And now they’re pulling in another guy for the same position. This does not bode well for my stop in Kansas City.

I yank open the door, charge to my locker, and collect my cellphone.

Seconds later, Carter Jones says, “What’s up?”

“What do you mean? What’s up?” I turn in a circle, surveying the locker room. I don’t want anyone else to hear how pathetic I sound. It’s clear. “Duane Mitchell is in town.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve seen this play out too many times to count. It’s a tactic to drive down your asking price. If you think someone else will get your spot, you’re more willing to sign at a lower salary.”

The muscles in my shoulders ache. “Well, I don’t like it. Have you heard from the owner?”

“Nah, not yet. But stop fretting.”

“It’s my life. Football is my life. It’s my stability. Without it….” I trail off, not wanting to say the words I’m thinking.

Without this contract. I don’t have the stability of a good home, a solid future, and a way to pay my mom back and care for my sister. Those were always my goals, but now, there’s also Charlotte. If I don’t get a contract here, I’ll have nothing to offer her. Except a follow me all over as I hope to get a job. And while you’re at it, leave your family, friends, career, and college behind.

“Stop. Everything will work out. I hear Arizona is looking for a running back, and you’d be a perfect fit there. The fact you’re in better shape than you were when you were drafted will have teams coming out of the woodwork. You’re going to be able to name your price.”

Arizona? I can’t go to Arizona. My hands ball into fists. Shit. I’ll have to go to Arizona. My window is too small to pass up the opportunity. “Fine. Put out feelers there and see what you come up with.”

“Perfect.” His voice is carefree. And why shouldn’t it be? He’s an agent for some of the top paid athletes and sitting in his plush office in New York or still in his king-sized bed.

“I’ll call you next week from training camp.”

“Break a leg.” He snaps off the line.

Asshole. I don’t care if it’s a cute phrase people use in the entertainment industry. The statement has lost its panache when you’ve blown your ankle out.

After I return to the field, Coach Slater and Duane, the man in question, chat, and walk-through drills. The man is two years younger, but he’s never had the instincts I have for cutting and switching directions on a dime.

He runs to the twenty-five-yard line and back to the twenty-yard line, pivots, and sprints back to the thirty-yard line. My teeth grind together. Coach Slater depresses the stopwatch in his hand and nods.

Although I can’t hear what they’re saying, they appear pleased with the results. The sun peaks between the thinning clouds and shines down on the field. It’s hit or miss whether the sun will dry out the field or ratchet up the humidity and bring on a thunderstorm. The way my ankle aches, I’m betting on the latter.

Moments later, Coach Slater waves. “Come on over. Have you met Duane Mitchell?”

“No, I haven’t.” Here we go. Slap on a smile and pretend I’m not pissed that he’s here to compete for the same job. I jog over to them, straighten my shoulders, and shove out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Dude.” The guy’s eyes twinkle as he clasps my hand. “This is a dream come true.”

“Yeah.” A fucking Freddy Kruger nightmare. “It’s great.” I drop my hand to my side.

“Duane is a powerhouse at the goal line. I’m looking forward to seeing what he can contribute to the team.” His eyes gleam as he rubs his palms together. “I love competition and seeing how it can improve performance. Especially when it’s two fierce competitors. Steel sharpens steel.”

“I can’t wait.” Duane puffs out his chest. “I can’t wait to see what we have.”

I’ve got nothing. Seriously. I roll my neck and shoulders, trying to ease the tension. I’ve already broken past the threshold of my injury and beyond. There’s no way I can best that. I might as well pack my bags. Here’s to hoping my agent can find me another place to land.

Fuck. What am I going to do about Charlotte? As much as I want to pretend this isn’t a threat to our future, I can’t. The kid is younger and cheaper. Of course, they’re going to want him.

Chapter Thirty

That Night

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