Page 25
Story: Play Maker
“Experts, we’ve added to that team, as well.” Lucas holds up three fingers.
Matthew nods. “Perfect.” And continues, “They’ve been instructed to make sure we know of any threats that come through.”
“Gonna guess a few of you use Snap and WhatsApp for pictures and … whatnot. If you get anything through those types of avenues, even if you don’t think it’s an issue with the team, we need to know about it,” Reminton, who’s leaning against the wall, says. “We need you to do the same if any of you get a threat, even if you think it’s bullshit or personal and not team-related. There are already rumors that the incident with Boone is connected to the issue with Knoxville and Vegas floating around. Not true. It was a jealous ex with a death wish, a screw loose, and a badge.” He nods to Hart and Boone. “Glad you two handled it and got there when you did.” He shakes his head. “Real glad, but we’re all going on lockdown until the season ends. Just waiting on approval from the town to approve surveillance cameras in the places we’ve identified as weak.”
Jackson clears his throat and looks back. “Copycat crimes happen when people with little dicks and bad manners feel they can get attention.”
“I know you’re not looking at me.” Hart chuckles.
“I don’t want to know a damn thing about your dick,” he says as he turns around.
CJ speaks next. “Circling back to the Knights and Legacy family on lockdown. Stay in town. If you have to head out, take a friend and make a call. 711 is our direct line to the command center.”
“They have a board with little pegs with our numbers on them down at the command center. Pretty bad ass,” Boone announces. “Like that game, Battleship.”
“Sounds rough,” Logan Links pipes in. “Checking in and shit, but it’s for everyone’s own good. You see a strange car driving around town, take a pic and send it to 711. See a local acting shady, reach out. I see some of you look a little irritated. Don’t be. Smile, Knights. They wouldn’t wanna bring us down if we hadn’t risen to the top.”
“We’ll see you guys at the Barn tonight.” Remington waves a hand over his shoulder as he walks away.
“Effective immediately, you’ll see them at practices, games, travel—everywhere. They answer to the family. You answer to them.” Coach Cohen claps his hands. “All right, Knights, indoor practice field, let’s roll.”
* * *
There are a few I catch grumbling about being stuck in this place as we make our way to the practice field. Me? I don’t say shit. You learn more listening.
Griffon Skinner is beside me. “Wanna be my buddy?”
“Your buddy?”
“Buddy,” he says, like I should know.
“Skinner, what the hell are you?—”
“Coach said we need to buddy up. Be my buddy?”
“Only if you stop sayingbuddy.”
The morning’s brutal—pads slamming, helmets rattling, steam rising off the line like smoke from a battlefield. Coaches bark orders, but it’s the undercurrent you can feel the most. That buzz. That coil of nerves pulling tighter with every snap. It’s not just playoff pressure. It’s the threats. We all know there’s more. Most of us heard it in the words not spoken.
Legacy Field’s on lockdown, the owners’ families looking over their shoulders like someone’s breathing down their necks. It’s not the cop who shot Boone. That bastard’s rotting in county lockup, awaiting trial, and everyone knows it.
This is bigger. Wider. More patient.
They can be pissed that we’re on lockdown, but I know what everyone’s thinking,
Who the hell would want to take down the Knights?
Answer is: it’s probably not aboutthe teamat all. It’s about the people who own it.
The family that dragged the Knights out of Knoxville pissed off half the damn state and rebuilt Legacy Field here from the ground up.
Money moves mountains. It also paints targets.
But that feeling, the one I can’t shake, maybe it isn’t them. I can’t help but wonder if it’s me. If somehow the past I buried six feet deep clawed its way back up, latching on to me like rot on good wood. It’s stupid—I know that—but when you’ve waited for the other shoe to drop, sometimes it doesn’t matter if the boots are yours or not. Youstillflinch when you hear them hit the floor.
Back inside, Coach breaks down the plan for hosting the playoff game. We’ll face whoever wins tonight’s late game: Outriders vs. Vegas.
Don’t wanna deal with the Vegas shit again, but the Outriders, Caleb Cross plays for them.
Matthew nods. “Perfect.” And continues, “They’ve been instructed to make sure we know of any threats that come through.”
“Gonna guess a few of you use Snap and WhatsApp for pictures and … whatnot. If you get anything through those types of avenues, even if you don’t think it’s an issue with the team, we need to know about it,” Reminton, who’s leaning against the wall, says. “We need you to do the same if any of you get a threat, even if you think it’s bullshit or personal and not team-related. There are already rumors that the incident with Boone is connected to the issue with Knoxville and Vegas floating around. Not true. It was a jealous ex with a death wish, a screw loose, and a badge.” He nods to Hart and Boone. “Glad you two handled it and got there when you did.” He shakes his head. “Real glad, but we’re all going on lockdown until the season ends. Just waiting on approval from the town to approve surveillance cameras in the places we’ve identified as weak.”
Jackson clears his throat and looks back. “Copycat crimes happen when people with little dicks and bad manners feel they can get attention.”
“I know you’re not looking at me.” Hart chuckles.
“I don’t want to know a damn thing about your dick,” he says as he turns around.
CJ speaks next. “Circling back to the Knights and Legacy family on lockdown. Stay in town. If you have to head out, take a friend and make a call. 711 is our direct line to the command center.”
“They have a board with little pegs with our numbers on them down at the command center. Pretty bad ass,” Boone announces. “Like that game, Battleship.”
“Sounds rough,” Logan Links pipes in. “Checking in and shit, but it’s for everyone’s own good. You see a strange car driving around town, take a pic and send it to 711. See a local acting shady, reach out. I see some of you look a little irritated. Don’t be. Smile, Knights. They wouldn’t wanna bring us down if we hadn’t risen to the top.”
“We’ll see you guys at the Barn tonight.” Remington waves a hand over his shoulder as he walks away.
“Effective immediately, you’ll see them at practices, games, travel—everywhere. They answer to the family. You answer to them.” Coach Cohen claps his hands. “All right, Knights, indoor practice field, let’s roll.”
* * *
There are a few I catch grumbling about being stuck in this place as we make our way to the practice field. Me? I don’t say shit. You learn more listening.
Griffon Skinner is beside me. “Wanna be my buddy?”
“Your buddy?”
“Buddy,” he says, like I should know.
“Skinner, what the hell are you?—”
“Coach said we need to buddy up. Be my buddy?”
“Only if you stop sayingbuddy.”
The morning’s brutal—pads slamming, helmets rattling, steam rising off the line like smoke from a battlefield. Coaches bark orders, but it’s the undercurrent you can feel the most. That buzz. That coil of nerves pulling tighter with every snap. It’s not just playoff pressure. It’s the threats. We all know there’s more. Most of us heard it in the words not spoken.
Legacy Field’s on lockdown, the owners’ families looking over their shoulders like someone’s breathing down their necks. It’s not the cop who shot Boone. That bastard’s rotting in county lockup, awaiting trial, and everyone knows it.
This is bigger. Wider. More patient.
They can be pissed that we’re on lockdown, but I know what everyone’s thinking,
Who the hell would want to take down the Knights?
Answer is: it’s probably not aboutthe teamat all. It’s about the people who own it.
The family that dragged the Knights out of Knoxville pissed off half the damn state and rebuilt Legacy Field here from the ground up.
Money moves mountains. It also paints targets.
But that feeling, the one I can’t shake, maybe it isn’t them. I can’t help but wonder if it’s me. If somehow the past I buried six feet deep clawed its way back up, latching on to me like rot on good wood. It’s stupid—I know that—but when you’ve waited for the other shoe to drop, sometimes it doesn’t matter if the boots are yours or not. Youstillflinch when you hear them hit the floor.
Back inside, Coach breaks down the plan for hosting the playoff game. We’ll face whoever wins tonight’s late game: Outriders vs. Vegas.
Don’t wanna deal with the Vegas shit again, but the Outriders, Caleb Cross plays for them.
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