Page 56 of Endgame

I need to be better. Get my shit together, man the fuck up, and take what I want.

Her heart.That is what I want.

I shower quickly and change into casual clothes, ready to make my move. It’s time tochange things up and finally get my girl's attention.

25

CALLAWAY

Callaway:How’s it going, Coach?

Coach Leggins:What happened?

Callaway:Lmao. Just checking on you, Leggins. Damn.

Coach Leggins:You never check on me.

Callaway:Maybe that’s why I’m doin’ it.

Coach Leggins:I’m fine, Hayes. Don’t worry about me.

He will either chew me out for asking this or give in. It’s worth the risk.

Callaway:How’s Taylor doing?

Taylor is Leggins’s wife. Last I heard, she had some type of scare and was booked with appointments to get some answers. I don’t know what happened, but he needs support.

Coach Leggins:Taylor is fine. I’ll tell her you asked. See you Saturday.

And the conversation is over,leaving me no room to respond.

Coach is guarded and jaded, but he was raised right and has always looked out for the team as best he can.

I’m wondering who he’s got looking out for him.

I don’t know all the details about Taylor’s diagnosis, but I have a sinking feeling it’s bad; he has yet to talk to anyone about it. A couple of months back when the incident happened, Jack immediately shut down and took two weeks off work. He came back without a word and never mentioned it again. Never even told anyone what the incident was.

Jack and Taylor were married three years ago. Bodhi was still locked up then, and I had yet to have close friendships with any of the guys on the team. Coach showed up at practice one day with a thin blonde woman in tail, Taylor, and introduced her as his wife. I’d never seen the woman a day in my life, nor had I ever heard him mention her name, let alone that he had afiancé. Come to find out, Coach hadn’t known her for long before she ended up pregnant. Being raised in a Southern Baptist home, he thought the best thing to do was marry her.

That’s not how I would have handled the situation, but I understand the pressure he probably felt knowing he was about to become a father.

The hardest part to come to terms with, and I know for a fact more so with him than myself, is that Taylor ended up miscarrying their baby boy at twenty weeks. I don’t think Jack has been the same since. Not that he’s a big grouch like Bodhi, but he keeps his heart and head on lockdown. I’ve never seen him go out after home games to celebrate or even to dinner with the team at away games. He either goes straight home or heads to his hotel room for the night.

It’s still a mystery to me why Jack and Taylor are married. Essentially, they went into the marriage as strangers who fucked once; but why stay together when there’s no other reason to? My outside perspective says he’s trapped in his own personal hell. I don’t know much about Taylor, but from what I know about Jack, he’s not in love with his wife; maybe theloss of his son has made him feel like he has no choice but tostay.

Throw in a cancer diagnosis, and they’re left with some pretty shitty chances at happiness. I feel for the guy. I’ll continue to check on him until he forces me to stop. I make a note to find a way to nonchalantly ask the guys to show him some support without mentioning the reason. Teamwork makes the dream work and all that.

It’s Wednesday night,t-minus three days until I get nakey with my angel, and it’sDirty Bingonight. The night we rage. As a team, with Atlanta being such a large city, we don’t have many places to go without being recognized. Somehow, Joe’s Tavern has yet to be discovered, and we do our best to keep it that way. Dirty Bingo is exactly what it sounds like; each player receives a board full of dirty things they’re required to act out/say in the bar, and the first person to fill an entire row after completing all the necessary tasks to make bingo wins. Our love for this place is part of why the team and closest staff have chosen it to be our monthly team bonding location. After a couple of months off, tonight’s the night.

I’m fucking ecstatic.

Watching Dakota squirm shouldn’t be this exciting.

The boys and I have already made plans to ride together; Navy, Tenley, and Dakota take the Mercedes to meet us. The ride to Joe’s Tavern is nothing out of the ordinary for our strange dynamic as friends, but it works. I haven’t had a chance to chat with Bodhi since the other night at Delta, but he seems to be in good spirits today. King and Gus are shooting the shit per usual, no doubt with plans to take homea woman tonight to warm their beds. Mack in tow is a rare thing. The guy doesn’t show much of himself unless it’s baseball and weightlifting, but watching him in environments like this makes me stoked to see him let loose a little. He’s chill but too serious for his own good. Letting loose might soften that thick shell he’s sporting.

Knowing Dakota will be here, I wear my light wash jeans, tan scoop hem tee, and my only pair of brown and tan Dunks. Low key bought them for her reaction. Cheesy as shit, but they remind me of her. The tan shirt makes my tattoos stand out more than usual, which is a good feeling, seeing as I’m required to wear a sleeve under my uniform to keep them covered. Tattoos are my thing, and Dunks seem to be Dakota’s.

My entire left arm is covered with a mountain wilderness scene, signifying all the roads and paths that have led me to the life I have today. It’s my little dedication to me, I guess. The top half of my right arm is covered entirely with a live beating heart surrounded by random chaos connecting to its veins that all define the fight I’ve survived. Both sides are a piece of where I came from and a reminder never to forget why I’m here.

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