Page 124 of The Game You Play (Rixon Raiders 2)

“Jason, don’t do this…” Her cries bounced off the window like rain against glass. Aimee made it sound like I had a choice but running was never a choice, and my mind was already made up.

Grabbing my cell phone, I shot Grady a quick text before firing up the engine and gunning out of the driveway. Aimee’s defeated figure shrank in the rear-view mirror. I’d played in my fair share of dog fights. Football games where players broke the rules and cared more about hurting each other than scoring a touchdown.

As far as I was concerned, this wasn’t any different.

Thatcher wanted my blood?

Fine.

But I’d make him work for it.

It was quiet down at No Man’s Land when we arrived. Grady sat tense beside me, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

“Nervous?” I asked, surveying the stretch of land in front of us. It was right beside the bridge, sheltered by the huge cement pillars. Part of it ran underneath, only accessible when the river ran low. Which wasn’t often. When we were kids, we’d hang out down there, daring each other to try to make it across. Kids doing the kind of shit kids do.

This wasn’t like that though.

This was different.

“What’s the plan?” Grady ignored my original question.

“Plan?” I side-eyed him. “I’m going to beat the shit out of him and send him crawling back across the river with my initials scratched into his fucking skin.”

“Jesus, Cap.” Grady let out a low whistle. “Are you sure we shouldn’t call—”

“The less people involved, the better. If you want to walk, walk. I won’t hold it against you.” I wasn’t scared; I was fucking furious. It burned through me, liquid fire in my veins.

“Fuck that. I’m staying. Just promise me if things get too messy, we’ll leave.”

“Yeah, whatever.” The lie rolled off my tongue. No way was I leaving until Thatcher got the message loud and clear not to mess with me and mine.

“Shall we then?”

We climbed out, the bitter fall wind slamming into us. “Shit, it’s cold.”

“Grow a pair, Grady.” I smirked as I flexed my arms either side of me and took off toward the riverside. Thatcher was waiting but he wasn’t alone.

“Surprised you came,” he drawled.

“I’m a man of my word.”

“Interesting.” He inclined his head, scratching his jaw. “You didn’t come alone.” Thatcher’s hard gaze moved to Grady.

“Neither did you.” My eyes went to the goon at his side.

“Didn’t want to miss you get your ass handed to you, Ford,” Gallen said, stepping up to his teammate.

Anger shot up my spine knowing that he’d put his hands on Felicity.

“Yeah, yeah, are we doing this or what?”

“Oh, we’re doing it. But you really should have brought reinforcements.” His lip twisted as a handful of other Eagles’ players stepped out from the shadows.

“Whoa, this isn’t what was agreed,” Grady said, edging closer to me.

Thatcher shrugged, yanking his hoodie and shirt clean off in one. “Yeah, well, the game just changed.”

My eyes ran over each of them; players I recognized. Players I’d gone head to head with on the field more times than I could count. Players who I knew would do anything for their captain and quarterback.