Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
“Thank fuck,” Coach says, getting down on his other side before quickly checking him over for himself. “WHERE’S THAT MEDIC?”
Within seconds, there’s a whole team of medics getting on their knees beside us, and I hastily move out of their way, letting them do their thing. One of them attaches a pulse ox to the linebacker’s finger while another straps a blood pressure cuff around his arm. They talk among themselves while our assistant coach does everything in his power to try and shoo the crowds away, giving my linebacker the space and privacy he deserves.
“What’s the diagnosis?” Coach asks the senior medic as the two others heave our player onto a gurney.
“Looks like heat exhaustion, maybe dehydration,” the medic says. “You need to put a new player in.”
“Fuck,” Coach says, running his hand through his thinning hair as he presses his lips into a tight line. He glances over the line of reserves, knowing not a damn one of them has the skill level needed to help win this game.
Jax is straight on his feet.
“Hell no,” Coach grunts, shaking his head before Jax even gets a chance to plead his case.
Jax races toward him, his eyes wide and desperate. “Come on, Coach. Put me in. You know I’ve got this,” he pleads. “You have no other option, not if you want to win this.”
Wyld scrunches his face as if he’s actually considering this before finally realizing how fucking stupid it is. “Sorry, kid. We spoke about this.”
“Oh, sure,” Jax grumbles. “Just hand them the win then.”
Coach clenches his jaw, glancing back at the field. He’s running out of time. If he’s going to make a decision, it needs to be done now. “FUCK! Jax, you’re in.”
“YES!” Jax cheers, fist pumping the air before bolting toward the field. He stops in front of me, grabs my helmet and smashes his against it as I just gape, horrified by Wyld’s decision to play him. “FUCK YEAH! Let’s do this.”
Jax takes off at a sprint, the whole crowd roaring for him as he makes a fucking spectacle of himself, and within seconds, they’re chanting his name. “The fuck?” I hear Logan calling from across the field as I step toward Coach.
“Are you sure about this?” I question. “One hit and he’ll be fucked.”
Coach shakes his head. “Sorry, kid,” he says, dropping his clipboard to the bench to focus on the game. “My hands are tied. He gave me his medical clearance first thing this morning. His doctor signed off and Jax assured me he’s good to go.”
“Medical clearance?” I question. “What fucking clearance?”
“Not the time or place, Tanner,” he says, staring past me and to his players on the field. “Get your ass out there. If you want to undermine my authority and question my decisions as the coach of this team, you can do that after we win this fucking game. Understood?”
Fuck.
Anger bursts through my chest, and I reluctantly jog back into position, barely getting there with only a few seconds to spare. There’s no way Jax got clearance. He walked out of his check up a few days ago just about ready to take his doctor out. If he was cleared, he would have screamed it from the rooftops.
Despite the chanting and cheers coming from the grandstand, one cry of outrage sounds over everything else, and I glance up to the girls, finding all of them up on their feet. Addison and Bri look like they’re about to be sick with Coach’s decision to play Jax, while Arizona looks as though she’s about to wring Wyld’s throat. Ilaria, on the other hand, has her nose buried in her phone, probably without a clue of what’s going on down here.
Bri meets my eye, and without a word spoken between us, I know she’s begging me to watch out for Jax, and I will do my best, but trouble can happen in a split second. I can’t always be exactly where he needs me, not in such a fast-paced game.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Logan cursing out his brother. “You’re going to get hurt.”
“Lay off,” Jax says, getting into position. “I’ll be fine.”
Logan goes to respond, but the whistle signals that the ball is back in play, shutting us all up. The ball moves from player to player, and Haven Falls quickly makes their way down field, getting a little too cocky for my liking.
The ball is swiftly delivered into my hands and I rear back, letting the bastard fly, knowing Logan will be exactly where he needs to be. But just as he jumps to catch the ball, he’s brought back to the ground with a devastating blow, leaving the ball wide open to sail straight into the arms of Haven Falls.
“Fuck,” I mutter, clenching my jaw and taking off again, my boys pushing themselves even harder.