Page 20 of Protecting Player #73 (Portland, Settlers #1 | Gridiron Warriors)
T.K
R eview of the footage from our last game against the Fortune has been seared into my brain, sideways and upside down, because after that last loss in the previous season, I’d spent hours studying and criticizing how I played. We lost in those final few minutes due to my missed sack.
Rewatching it now only triggers the anger I remember feeling that night and reminds me of the woman who’s trying to ruin my life now. She was my second fuck-up of that evening.
“Hey”–Kace nudges me from the side–“you good, man?” Glancing over, I raise a brow in question. “You growled. Like a rabid wolf.” A few other teammates chuckle at my confusion.
“This fucking game.” I gesture to the screen, and they share a sympathetic look.
“This is when I met that bitch. She’s harassing Brea now.
” Their sympathy turns to anger. Brea has won the heart of every man on the Settlers, even the married ones.
She’s like their little sister, and I’m glad she has their protection.
“Exactly,” I mutter, crossing my arms and sitting back, wanting to be with Brea instead of here.
“What’s the plan, then?” Cash asks this time, giving me his complete attention.
“Police won’t do shit unless something happens, and since I can’t prove she posted the shit online, we have to fucking wait until she acts dangerously towards one of us.” I made that rage-inducing call this morning and was pissed they didn’t take this seriously.
A round of “bullshits” filters out before we’re yelled at to pay attention. The rest of the meeting is more of the same–how we can improve, new strategy, especially after drafting a few fresh recruits this season who show a lot of promise.
When we’re finally released and ordered to hit the weight room, I check my phone for any missed messages from Brea. There’s nothing, and disappointment slams me hard. Thankfully, my older brother, T.J., contacted me, so that brightens me up.
T.J.: Heard you called the station, what’s going on?
Me: My girl is being harassed. I need it handled.
T.J.: Meet me for a drink tonight and we’ll talk.
Me: Thanks bro.
Relief lightens the rest of the day as I work out and spend time mentoring one of the younger guys on the team who’ll make his debut during Sunday’s game.
“How are you settling into Portland?” The boy–not old enough for me to call a man yet–swallows like I’m a bully on the playground about to beat his ass.
“Okay, I guess. I haven’t found a permanent place to live yet.”
I spot him on the bench press as he lifts, pondering his dilemma.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?
I’m Portland born and bred; I could probably help you find something suitable.
” His eyes widen at my offer. “What’s your name again?
” I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t been the best at keeping up with the new guys, but he’s shaping up as a rusher.
Hopefully, by mid-season, he’ll be on my line.
“Damaris Jones.” Placing the bar back on the rack, he sits up and offers his hand.
I shake it and grin. “I like you, Big D.” The kid is built, but he still has those puppy dog eyes and baby face. “Where you from?”
“Compton. My mom and sisters are still there. I’m trying to find somewhere in a good school district, with a house big enough for the four of us.”
“This is your way out, isn’t it?” I’ve never been to Compton, but I watch the news and hear about the gangs. It’s clear this kid is special from the respect he’s showing in a simple conversation. He’s going places, and I’ll help him get there.
“It’s theirs too. Wouldn’t be where I am if not for my mom busting ass working two jobs to keep me on the gridiron. She needs me now like I needed her then.”
“You talk to Brea about any of this?” She’s spent a bit of time with our rookies, and I get the feeling that if she knew Damaris’ story, she’d help him out.
“No. She doesn’t need to worry about me.”
“Oh, she does, and before we leave tomorrow, the two of you are sitting down and talking about what brought you here, because I’ll tell you now, this city will help you find everything you need for your family.” He appears shocked at first but then agrees with me.
“Thank you, T.K. I appreciate you taking some time with me today. I was beginning to feel like I don’t belong in Portland. I can start seeing a future here now.”
Astounded doesn’t begin to explain my feelings.
I’ve never made an impact on anyone’s life before, and here Damaris tells me that I changed his entire perspective on this city and his place in it.
If I’m being honest, having this sort of impression on a rookie is the kind of legacy I want to leave behind.
Being remembered as the guy who helped the next generation of players call this city and team their home throughout their career is something I could be proud of.
I walk into my condo to the sounds of music playing and Brea dancing in the kitchen as she cooks.
Her eyes are closed, arms raised above her head, and she twirls around the island before stopping to stir something in a pot.
Her swaying hips make my mouth water as I quietly step forward, hoping to grab her before she notices me.
My one hand slides around her waist while the other tangles in her hair, pulling her head back to steal a kiss from her surprised lips. “Mmm, you’re home,” she whispers, pushing her body back into mine, rubbing on my inflating dick.
“I am, and I missed you.” Kissing along her throat, I nibble on her ear. “I have to go back out to meet my brother, though.”
Pulling back, our eyes meet, and she smiles at me. “I’m going to meet Alex at our spot, too.”
“Your spot?” I raise a brow.
“A diner we’ve gone to since I was about seven or eight. Alex started it, and when we need girl-time, or time together, we always seem to end up at PB it’s damn good.” Addicting, really. I could easily live off the mixture forever.
Brea is so damn modest, though. She accepts the compliment but brushes it off as nothing special…just how her mom taught her to make it. I couldn’t imagine loving her any more, yet here I am, twice as in love with her as this morning.
After cleaning up the dinner dishes, I drive Brea to meet up with Alex, ducking down when she spots Brea exiting my car, a frown on her face.
Alex is a fantastic agent, but she’s an even fiercer protective big sister, and frankly, she scares the crap out of me when I fuck up.
Knowing I’m with her sister most certainly will piss her off.
I stick around until Brea is inside the diner, sitting across from Alex, then drive to catch up with T.J. My nerves get the best of me because I worry there will be no recourse or punishment for the things Erika is doing, and Brea won’t be safe.