Foolish Games(74)

Julianne nearly choked on her wine, and Will chuckled.

“I was a late bloomer. I didn’t grow until I got to college. Anyway, I was cool with taking out loans to go with my scholarships and heading to State with Gavin, but my high school guidance counselor had other ideas. He had a friend at Yale who was able to get me a tryout with their football team. They liked me, and my GPA, and suddenly there was a lot of merit scholarship money thrown at me. I wouldn’t have any debt when I got out of college if I went there. It was really the best choice. And I loved it in New Haven. The professors, the secret societies, a college coach who was my mentor. Everything that makes up life on campus was so different than I imagined. Best of all, no one there knew I was the bastard from the Seaside Vista Trailer Park.”

Of its own accord, Julianne’s hand found Will’s head, her fingers gently massaging his scalp.

“Gavin ended up blowing out his knee after one season. He’d never play in the pros. So the torch was passed to me. Only I didn’t get drafted. But Coach Z was hired as the defensive coordinator for the Generals and he managed to work me onto the practice squad. The money wasn’t great, five grand a month. I took a second job working nights as a security guard so I could send money to my mother. She needed to move out of that damn trailer park. It just wasn’t safe for a woman to live there alone. Times were starting to get tough for everyone, and there were a lot of men in town with way too much time on their hands.”

An ominous rumble of thunder shook the house.

“The final preseason game, there were a lot of starters hurt, so Coach Z put me in the lineup. I played my heart out because I didn’t want to let Coach Z down, but mostly because I knew it was my last shot.” Will hesitated. “It was a clean hit. The quarterback fumbled the ball, I landed on it, and we won the game. The next day, I found out the quarterback was out for the season. I’d separated his shoulder. He ended up never playing again.”

He leaned his head onto her lap.

“Even worse, I found an envelope with twenty thousand dollars in cash in my locker that afternoon. When I asked Coach about it, he said it was a bonus for my play. I had no idea they did that in the pros, so I asked a few other players about it. They just slapped me on the back and said it was my reward for delivering a punishing lick to the Broncos’ quarterback. I was sick.” He let out an explosive sigh. “I’d taken a man out of the game and I was getting paid extra for it. I tried to give the money back, but Coach told me to keep my mouth shut and enjoy the cash. The next day, I was cut from the team. I’d like to believe Coach was doing me a favor by cutting me, you know, looking out for me. But now . . . I don’t know.”

Julianne didn’t know what to say, so she just stroked his cheek.

“The Blaze called a few days later. Apparently, they liked the hit, too. I wasn’t sure what to think when I got to Baltimore. I’ve never gotten any more cash in envelopes, though, thank God.”

“What did you do with the money?” she asked.

“You’re living in it. A college friend of mine invested it in a hedge fund and I made a killing in six months.”

She looked around the cozy house, the only thing standing between her and the raging storm outside.

“I feel guilty every time I walk in here,” he whispered.

“No, Will!” She crawled onto the floor beside him, taking his face between her hands. “You shouldn’t feel guilty. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was your job to hit the quarterback. You didn’t know about the bonus. If you did, you wouldn’t have hit him. Will, you would never intentionally hurt someone. I know you wouldn’t!”

“I almost strangled that reporter today.”

“Almost! And that’s different. The jerk lied and misrepresented himself to get in the house.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “But he does have a point. If you tell your story, people will know you’re innocent. That you didn’t do anything wrong. And then they’ll leave you alone.”

Lightning cracked outside and Will jumped to his feet.

“I can’t, Julianne! Don’t you see? I’m the one who can bring it all down. I’m the missing puzzle piece. The players who willingly took the money aren’t going to talk.”

Julianne stood, too. “But, Will, what they’re doing is wrong. They have to be stopped, and you’re the only one who can stop them.”

“It’s too late. I’ve already condoned the practice with my silence these past eight years. Besides, the man they’re trying to name as the ringleader, Coach Z, is dying. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him. No matter how I feel about his practices, I don’t want his last days to be a witch hunt.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands hanging between his knees. “If they dig deep enough, they’ll probably dredge up something minor that happened while he was coaching at Yale that could inadvertently damage the program. There are a lot of good kids with backgrounds like mine who are getting a shot at a better life through that football program. Whether or not they turn pro, doors will be opened for them. I can’t sabotage that, Julianne, I can’t.”