Page 1 of Personal Foul

Prologue

Kaiden sat slumped in the leather chair staring at the coach and the general manager of the team. He ran his hand over his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. Accidentally, he caught a whiff of his breath and grimaced. He hadn’t had a chance to change his clothes once he was bailed from jail. Now, he nursed a hangover and caffeine withdrawal, as well as being sleep-deprived and downright gross.

“You’re a mess,” Coach snapped.

Kaiden huffed. “Ya, well, overnight in County’ll do that.”

“Be quiet,” his agent, Bobby McDougal, hissed. “Watch what you say. The lawyers are recording everything.”

Kaiden shut his mouth, pretending to lock it and throw away the key. Bobby shook his head like he was dealing with a wayward child. In all fairness, he probably wasn’t that far off the mark.

The general manager clicked the large flat-screen on, bringing up a video that had him mentally groaning. It was his arrest video, taken from the vest of the policeman that had stopped his drunk ass from getting behind the wheel of his SUV. Just fucking great. As it blasted all over TMZ, he watchedhimself weave and wobble as the cop put him through his paces. Growing belligerent with each passing second. It didn’t paint a very flattering picture of who he was. Or maybe it did. Maybe he was a complete and utter fuckup. When the video ended, the GM turned off the television and laid the remote onto the table with a sharp click.

Then he picked up several tabloid magazines and tossed them toward him. They landed with a smack, leaving Kaiden staring at his drunken mug shot.

“Son, you’ve fucked yourself for the last time,” the GM stated, in a tone devoid of emotion. Eyes hard. Mouth thinned. For the first time, Kaiden got a horrible premonition he wasn’t going to like the direction of this intervention. “How many of these meetings have we sat through?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“The answer is a lot. So many you can’t even answer that question.”

Kaiden shot a glance at Bobby, not liking the stoic look on the man’s face.

The GM leaned his forearms on the conference table. “You’ve been arrested four times on disorderly conduct. Been caught in several unflattering videos just like that one. Had several public temper tantrums. And this latest shitshow? You better be fucking glad you didn’t get behind the wheel. I’m not sure if you know this, but your contract with this team has a morality clause, so we’re enacting our right to put you on a waiver wire.”

Fear sluiced through him and he sat up a little straighter. “Wait. What? You can’t do that, can you?”

He looked once more to his agent for confirmation, but the damn man didn’t even blink.

“I assure you, we can,” the GM continued. “The lawyers have already gone through your contract with a fine-toothcomb.”

Kaiden glanced at the two people at the end of the table. One scribbled something down while the other listened intently to the proceedings.

“Say something!” Kaiden snapped at Bobby.

All the man did was raise his eyebrows. “What do you want me to say? I’ve warned you about this.”

“Thanks a whole fucking lot.” Kaiden turned back to the GM. “I can go to rehab or something. Anger management. Rehabilitation. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“The time has passed, son. We’re dropping you for the next season.”

“But … but … football is the only thing I know. The only thing I love doing. Please, I’ll change. Just give me another chance.”

The GM sighed and tapped a text message. Kaiden figured it was to the owner. The man never liked him, but that was probably because he kind of dated his daughter. Or, perhapsfuckedwas a better definition of what he’d had with Lareece. Damn it, he knew sleeping with that woman was stupid. When a return text came through, the GM looked at him and shook his head.

Kaiden got to his feet to plead his case. “I know I’ve been messing up a lot, but if you’ll just let me explain—”

“I’m sorry, Kaiden,” the GM said firmly. “The team owner and I have come to an agreement. You’re no longer who we want to represent the team. You’re no longer at the top of your game and we want to head in a different direction.”

His world crumbled, leaving him standing on the broken pile of his career as he stared shell-shocked at him. Then the coach tapped the tabletop, letting out a sigh.

“You’re one of the best tight ends I’ve ever coached, and I hate that your career is gonna end like this,” Coachsaid, drumming his fingers. “So, I’m going to do you a favor and you’re not going to fuck it up. You know about the new expansion team in St. Louis.”

It wasn’t a question. When the Rams moved to California, it created an uproar of disappointed fans. New investors came forward to fill the hole that had been left and pursued the NFL to get the necessary affirmative votes. Three-quarters of the owners of the NFL clubs were required before a new team could be created, and the team owners got the go-ahead last year. The new season coming will have St. Louis on the board.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Of course.”

“You’ve heard of Joe Sigworth?”

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