Page 33 of Hate the Game (Playing Dirty #1)

***Savannah***

I’d never rewatched the Texas USC game. I’d watched it in person and after hearing the hits and seeing the outcome, the thought of rewatching it made me sick.

It was time, though. I was getting lost and distracted.

I needed to remember why I was doing what I was doing and remind myself who these guys were.

I pulled up a full video of the game and sat there, computer on my lap, breathing to settle my nerves.

I knew the exact play and moment the injuries happened so I clicked ahead to the last few minutes of the video.

I remembered it so clearly that I could still hear the crowd around me as the clock ticked down.

The score was tied. USC had the ball on the five-yard line.

I was so confident in Texas’ defensive line because both Hayes and Weston were rock stars and, despite a long and grueling game, they were still in top shape.

Just before USC snapped my dad leaned over and harshly whispered that they’d put in a defensive lineman, number sixty-three, most likely to perform a trick play.

I rarely sat with him during games because when he did show up, he was negative the entire time, so I’d just brushed him off and leaned forward.

The ball snapped. The crowd hushed as the USC quarterback, Jax, fell back.

It was pandemonium. It looked like he’d passed to sixty-three and sixty-three powered into the defensive line like a train.

When I realized Jax still had the ball I shot up, my hand going to my mouth as I held my breath.

There was a moment of pause when our defense realized what I had.

I watched Weston change directions and go after Jax.

I’d been watching my brother, thrilled as I waited for the sack.

Instead, I watched as sixty-three came out of nowhere and took him down.

The hit from the side had caught Weston by surprise and the sound had been so loud I could practically feel it.

My eyes snapped to Hayes, expecting to find him moving into the trenches.

Jax threw the ball and I held my breath as I lost track of my brothers and watched the ball rocket with deadly precision into the hands of one of his receivers.

Still at the one-yard line, there was hope.

I found Hayes powering straight at the guy and clutched both my hands to my head.

Cole, on the field as a receiver, saw Hayes going for the tackle and went for him. At the same time another of their offensive lineme n spotted Hayes and both of them hit Hayes from different angles. When I heard Dad stand up with a vicious swear, I knew it was bad.

The receiver with the ball threw himself into the endzone and USC’s fans went wild.

I remembered that it sounded like a stampede and it felt like that, like a hundred cows were standing on my chest as I waited for the pile-up to clear.

I wasn’t even processing the loss yet. Before I could see anything, Dad was charging down to the field.

In the matter of seconds everything changed.

It’d felt like I’d blinked and the play happened.

In so few seconds, though, my brothers’ lives had been changed.

The Texas players circled around on the field and my breath caught in my throat.

Cash ran onto the field and I watched his body tense as he saw what I couldn’t.

Medical personnel ran out and then called for more people.

Golf carts full of supplies went out. Silence fell over the stadium when it became obvious that someone was hurt.

I was frozen where I stood, shaking, tears swelling.

When I saw two stretchers going out my legs went weak and I collapsed back into my seat.

It took only a few minutes for the first stretcher to be driven out.

I saw Hayes grimacing with his knee stabilized on the cart. People cheered for him, seeing that he was okay enough to be sitting up but he didn’t react. He just glanced over his shoulder and… I knew him well enough to know that Weston wasn’t okay. I could feel it in my gut.

It took longer for them to get Weston on his own cart.

When I saw him I let out a pained cry. My big brother, my strong, massive, stronger than anything bad in life brother was strapped to a stretcher , fully immobilized.

The cervical collar scared me the most. I had visions of my brother being paralyzed and openly sobbed as I finally found the strength to get up and stumble down to the field.

I found Dad standing at the tunnel entrance where they were taking Weston, his fist pressed to his mouth.

He’d felt real for the next couple hours as we waited to find out the full damage.

He’d held me like a real father while I fell apart.

The whole time he did, though, he cursed USC and The Apex Three.

While the waiting room filled with my brothers’ teammates Cash stood alone in the corner, his face twisted with anger.

“They fucking wanted this. They wanted to hurt my boys. They could never win if your brothers were in the game, Savannah. Those bastards did this on purpose!” Dad’s raised voice had carried through the waiting room and I’d watched through tear-filled eyes as everyone nodded and agreed with him, silent but approving.

“They’ll fucking pay for this.” Cash’s voice was unrecognizable and the promise in it cracked through the air like lightning. He meant it.

When Dad had enough of my tears he moved away and then I was hugged by so many of my brothers’ teammates. Each of them had their own words of comfort but the overall theme was USC played dirty.

We found out Hayes had a complete ACL tear and needed surgery.

He was okay, though. It took us longer to find out that Weston had two herniated discs in his spine and was in incredible amounts of pain but would be able to walk just fine.

Once everyone could breathe the anger grew.

The others’ silent acceptance became loud belligerence.

“They should have their teeth kicked in.”

“Those dirty fuckers. We should find them and let them see how it feels.”

“Break their backs!”

Slowly I started hearing different things about what’d happened, rumors about The Apex Three’s past dangerous behavior on the field, and finally about the interviews they’d given after the game.

They’d supposedly laughed off the injuries and made a joke of it.

It was spread around the waiting room like mold and when it got to me, I felt it stick and cover me with the skin-crawling feeling of helpless anger.

The following few months I’d watched my brothers suffer.

Weston was in pain constantly and refused the surgery that would help for a reason he didn’t feel like sharing.

Hayes struggled to heal and take things slow.

Cash struggled with the guilt of being the only one not injured when he didn’t even care about football that much.

He just did it because it was expected. To Weston and Hayes, though, it was life.

Everything came storming back as I watched the play.

I felt sick to my stomach over the way I’d been acting with the men who’d hurt my brothers.

I felt so awful that I forced myself to rewatch the play over and over again, like some kind of self- flagellation.

I watched my brothers go down four, five, six times.

I forced myself to watch it until my stomach burned and my eyes were so dry they hurt.

It was turning into torture when I finally slammed my hand down to stop the video.

The freeze frame showed a wider shot of the endzone and I finally looked at the rest of the field.

My breath caught as one of the Texas players drew my attention.

He was between Ryder and Weston and he was turned towards Ryder.

My hand shook as I played the next few frames.

The guy between Ryder and Weston had spotted Ryder coming towards him and he’d twisted out of the way.

Ryder, who’d already been tucking his head to take out that player was a train in motion.

If Weston hadn’t been where he was Ryder would’ve hit nothing but air.

Instead, he’d hit Weston lower than he would’ve hit the other player.

I slammed the laptop shut and jumped out of bed.

I paced around my small room, doing my best to block out what I’d seen.

Guilt warred inside my body. Just the thought that I was questioning what’d happened would’ve hurt my brothers.

They firmly believed The Apex Three had played dirty.

I felt like a disgusting traitor for even questioning it.

I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t. I rubbed at my eyes and swore. The quiet whispers that had started after spending more time with Jax, Ryder, and Cole grew louder. Had they meant to hurt my brothers after all?