Once Upon A Half-Time 1(95)
“You played good though.”
“Not as good as I should have been. I got lucky.”
“Lucky.” I shrugged. “I never used to need luck.”
“I live by it.”
Hell, it could help me, I’d shoe a rabbit and take a foot from a horse. “I could use a bit of luck.”
“Why?”
Like he didn’t know. “Come on. I’m not contributing shit to the team.”
“You got a reason for it?”
“Hell if I know. Half the time I don’t even feel like I am part of the team.”
I didn’t expect him to smile. “I was wondering when you’d notice it.”
“Notice what?”
He paused before he spoke, studying me. “I know your type, Lachlan.”
“Dark and curvy?”
“You’re good at your game,” he said. “Too good.”
“What a sweet-talker.”
“I’m serious. It’s time you got serious too. I don’t care what happened in training camp or during those exhibition games. You are and will always be one of the most talented players on the team. But do you know what your problem is?”
“This should be fun.”
“You still think you’re Lachlan Reed.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
He shrugged. “Sure, if you want to act like a spoiled fucking child.”
Well, this wasn’t as productive of a conversation as I’d hoped. “All right. I get your point.”
“You don’t.” Jack pointed to the bruise on his face. “This type of bullshit? That’s the temper tantrum of some cocky kid who forgets that he’s part of a team. You acted out because you’re a spoiled bastard who was never challenged on the field.”
He was right. Didn’t mean I’d admit it.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Jack said. “I was the same. Some loudmouth asshole who cared more about himself than the game. After the linemen let through a couple linebackers to sack my ass, I wised up and learned the truth.”
“Which was?”
“That we’re part of a team. There is no Jack Carson. No Cole Hawthorne. No Lachlan Reed. There’s a number on your uniform and a place for you in every play, but that’s it. And that’s good. That makes us work together. Keeps us looking ahead instead of behind. What happened in the past is done. We gotta keep our eyes downfield.”
I heaved a breath. “There’s a lot of pressure on me now.”
“Fuck the pressure. You think you’re the only one with problems?”
“No, but—”
“We all have our fucking issues. I’ve been fighting with the league for three years about my reputation. Last year, Cole was too afraid of his own strength to let anyone get near him. Know how we got through it?”
“I’m guessing the team.”
“You’re goddamned right. You are a part of this team. You’re in this family, and people are willing to help you.” Jack shrugged. “All you gotta do is ask.”
What the hell did I have to lose?
“I need your help.”
“No shit, rookie.” Jack smacked my head. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m making you my go-to man. You’ll get open when I need to dump a pass. You’ll block when I got a linemen breathing down my neck. You’re gonna be someone I can trust, because, let’s face it, there’s not a lot of people on the team we can trust now. I’m counting on you.”
“That’s great, but I fuck up every time I touch the ball.”
“Believe me, I know,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t worried. “We haven’t been in sync. It takes time to develop that trust, but we’ll work on it together. Figure this shit out.”
I liked his optimism. “Think I can pull it around?”
“You already have.” Jack grinned. “You came to me.”
“It wasn’t my idea. Elle’s the one who told me to pull my head out of my ass.”
His smile faded. “Then you better do everything you can to keep her. This scandal will be bigger than all of us, and she’ll need you to take care of her.” He nodded. “And when you’re on the field, we’ll take care of each other. That’s how this works. It’s how we’re gonna win.”
“Yeah, if we get a chance to play.”
Jack tensed. “You think we’re gonna get fucked?”
“Not us.” I hated to say it, the words pitting in my stomach. “I think they’re gonna go after Elle.”
But they’d regret it if they did.
She was my wife. The mother of my unborn child.