Leon and Sean were down on the field with the rest of the starters, huddled around Matt Murphy who was calling the plays. This would be the first game Sean had played in since being injured three months before. And yes, I was a nervous wreck.
“He said he was ready and the doctors cleared him,” I said. I laced my hands together and held them between my breasts. It looked like I was praying. Maybe I was.
“That’s not what I asked,” Monique said, bouncing. “Are you nervous?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” she said. She nodded at the field. “Here we go.”
Sean lined up wide-right. The second the ball was hiked to Murphy, Sean shot off the line and ran the same route that had gotten him injured before. I held my breath as I imagined it happening again.
Murphy scrambled back and Leon and the other linemen did their best to protect him, giving Sean time to make it down the field.
Murphy launched the ball like a cannon ball. I watched the ball spiral through the air. It arced high above the field before making its descent and dropping perfectly into Sean’s hands.
This time there was no freight train waiting to run over him.
Sean tucked the ball under his arm and sprinted the remaining twenty yards down the field and across the goal line.
Touchdown!
No one even came close to stopping him.
The stadium erupted as fans jumped to their feet to herald the return of their beloved gladiator. The stadium announcer led the chant, “Sean! Sean! Sean!”
I released the breath that I’d been holding and put my hands on my cheeks. He’d done it. He’d really come back stronger than before. I couldn’t have been happier for him.
The entire team mobbed the field to congratulate Sean. The refs, who normally wouldn’t allow such a celebration, just backed away and let it happen.
Leon and another lineman lifted Sean onto their shoulders like he was a rag doll. He held the football in his right hand and lifted it high above his head.
As they carried him toward the sidelines, Sean took off his helmet with his free hand and looked my way.
Even though we were far apart, I could tell that he was looking into my eyes. He tossed the helmet down to a teammate, then smacked his hand to his lips and blew me a kiss. I pretended to catch it and brought my hand to my lips.
“You gonna make an honest man out of him?” Monique asked with a smile.
I wiped away the tears of joy in my eyes and smiled. “I’m certainly going to try.”
THE END
Torn
Blurb
The day my fiancé was brutally gunned down before my eyes, my entire life changed forever. Gone was the sweet and innocent bride-to-be who wanted nothing more than to get married and have babies. She was replaced by a tattooed biker bitch hell bent on revenge. I’m going to make The Wright Brothers pay for what they’ve done. I’ll see them all dead if it’s the last thing I do…
I strolled into that dive bar with the intention of killing Rick Wright, the gang leader responsible for the death of my fiancé. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he was the man in charge, so I was holding him personally responsible. I had it all planned. I would seduce him, get him alone, then put a bullet in his head.
The one thing I hadn’t counted on was him being so charming, not to mention smoking hot. He had a smile that he used like a weapon. All he had to do was point it my way and I melted in my panties.
Once I got him naked and in my bed, would I be able to put a bullet in his head, or would the site of his naked body and the surge of my own desires wash away my need for revenge forever?
PROLOG: SANDY DUVAL
I met the love of my life on Tuesday, January 26th.
He asked me to marry him on Saturday, May 3rd.
The wedding was scheduled for Saturday, October 15th.
He died in my arms on Sunday, July 24th.
I decided to kill the man responsible for his death at the exact moment the last breath slipped from my lover’s body.
Now, it’s all I think about.
Killing Rick Wright.
A man I’ve never even met, but can’t wait to kill.
SANDY
I missed those long nights when I’d lie awake thinking about my wedding day. I thought about how best to wear my hair, how I’d do my makeup, who would help me get ready, what song we’d dance to for our first dance and a thousand other things.
I already had my dress, which, as wedding dresses go, was a pretty simple design.
On a hairdresser’s pay, I couldn’t afford anything fancy with a long train and a veil, not that I wanted anything like that. I was a simple girl with simple tastes, and I was marrying a simple man.
Brent worked in the service department at the local Ford dealership. I cut hair at Cost Clippers. Together, we’d make enough to have a nice, simple life, like our parents.