Page 6 of Subtracting the Heart

He arrived early to suit up alone, complete early warm-up drills, and be ready when the rest of the team showed up for practice. Jax had a job to do and a new vigor to do it.

An hour later, the rest of the defensive line came out of the locker room, surprised to see he’d already worked up a sweat. Denny Walker approached him. “I thought you were still on IR.”

Denny’s wife had their baby in September, and Denny had been on fire ever since, helping to make up for Jax’s lack of enthusiasm for the game. It seemed his malaise had been contagious to the rest of the defensive line, and poor Denny couldn’t be in more than one place at a time during the games. Jax was grateful to the man for giving one hundred and ten percent when Jax, himself, couldn’t.

He turned to his teammates and spoke up. “I’m back and I’m ready to play, but I leave it to all of you. Do you still want me as your captain? I’ve let you boys down for most of the season, and I’m fine if you’d rather have Denny lead you. We still, in spite of my absence, have a shot at a wildcard berth, so I’ll let y’all decide, and whatever you want, I’ll take it to Tony and Beau. You can talk about it later, but for now, let’s get out of here and get warmed up.” Jax led them onto the field to the defense area where the tackle sleds and other equipment were set up for drills.

Jax turned his eyes up to the box and waved to Malcolm Flood, the guy in charge of the music and audio at the stadium. When the music started, all the players clapped and got in lines to run the ladders to warm up. It felt good to be back.

After practice ended, Tony O’Brien yelled, “Cajun! My office.”

Jax nodded as he grabbed his equipment to place on the cart to be cleaned for the Saturday game. He wasn’t sure if he would even be allowed to play based on the bullshit he’d pulled midseason, but even if he didn’t, he’d be there for his teammates.

He clomped into the coach’s office, pulling the door closed. He was still in his cleats because he didn’t want to waste any time. Jax shed his hooded sweatshirt and tossed it on the ratty leather couch against the far wall.

“What I saw out there today was my defensive leader back in action. What the fuck happened, Cajun? The front office wants to trade you. I’ve been fightin’ ’em because you haven’t been hurt except for minor things since you got your starting spot. Hell, you even came back after you lost your mom and played that goddamn preseason game like an animal.

“If I’m to fight with Beau and the rest of the front office to keep you until the end of the season, you gotta promise me this shit won’t happen again. You fuckin’ fell apart on me, son. That’s not kosher at all.” The thud from Tony’s fist pounding on the desk echoed in Jax’s mind.

Jax knew it was time for the discussion they’d been avoiding. The team hadn’t given him hell when some less than desirable pictures of the three of them out on the town hit the media, but when Cade left, Jax didn’t give anyone a heads-up about the changes in his personal life. He owed the explanation to Tony.

“You know I’m in relationships with two men. Well, one of the relationships fell apart and so did I. We’re working out our problems and getting back together, but I swear, Coach, regardless of the outcome of my personal situation, I won’t let it affect my game anymore, okay? I owe you all that much. You guys have stuck by me, and I owe it to you to give my all.

“I’d like to retire from this team, Coach. I turned thirty-one in November, and I’d like to be able to walk when I quit the game. I haven’t had too many concussions in my career, but as I get older and slow down, I don’t want to run the risk of life-altering damage. I have plans after, so I’d like to give my all this season and then retire from Chicago when it ends.”

Jax felt a lump in his throat at the mere idea of leaving the game, but it was a decision he’d made, and he was sticking to it. He wanted to live an active life after football.

“You don’t wanna play for another couple of years? You’ll be a free agent at the end of this season.” Tony’s skeptical expression was expected.

“I don’t give a shit about being a free agent because I’ve played my career right here in Chicago, and I want to end it here. One more shot?”

The Irishman in front of him was gruff on a good day, but Tony seemed to have a soft spot in him for his “boys”—as he called the players. Jax hoped he was still in Tony’s good graces.

Tony closed his eyes before looking up at the ceiling. “Jackson, you have a good three years left in your prime. You could make a lot more money at the game, especially since you signed with Stan Adams and got your contract straightened out. You’re one of the best defensive players in the league when your head’s on straight.”

Jax laughed. “Yeah, but now I have other things to worry about that don’t revolve around football. I can’t put Ford on the back burner any longer or I’m going to lose him, too, and that woulddo me in. He and I owe Cade our support if he comes back to us. Both have a lot of plans, and I want to be part of them. So, I’ll give you my all for the rest of this season before I walk away, hopefully with a Super Bowl ring on my finger. You game?”

Tony picked up a little stress ball he always worked when he was talking to his players. The guys always started the season by giving him a box of them because when he was pissed off, he’d pop the damn things and the guts of it would ooze out over Tony’s desk and hand.

“Okay. I’ll put you in as a starter but if you fuck this up, Jackson… I’ll tell you what I tell the young kids… get pussy off your mind and play the goddamn game you were hired to play.” The ball popped in Tony’s hand as Jax expected. The coach tossed it into the trash, flinging off the insides from the area between his index finger and thumb.

Jax laughed. “Sure, boss. As an FYI…I ain’t got pussy on my mind, but I get it.” He got up to leave before Tony threw something at him. Jax heard Tony laughing all the way to the locker room.

When he walked inside, the whole place went silent. Denny Walker and Hans Linder approached him with serious looks on their faces. Jax assumed it meant they’d had their discussion while he was in with the coach, and he was ready to hear the verdict regarding whether his teammates would forgive him and let him back on the line.

Denny started them off. “We talked about it, Cajun. It’s split. Some of the guys don’t think you have the heart for it anymore.”

Both men were dressed only in towels, and as he scanned the locker room, Jax didn’t see any trainers anywhere. Only the players. That was worrisome.

“Okay. I get it. Did you vote for your new captain? I’ll go with you to Beau and surrender my patch.” Jax started toward his locker.

Hans Linder, who was a huge kid, stepped in front of him. “We didn’t say we want a new captain. We just want to know we can count on you for the rest of the season.”

“You can. I give you all my word.” Jax glanced at all the men around him.

Colby Napier walked forward in a towel as well, which gave Jax a bad feeling. “Yeah, we thought you’d say that, but we need you to prove it.”

Jax looked around seeing many guys nodding in agreement, and he immediately didn’t like the vibe he was getting from the group. He slipped off his cleats because he didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he’d beat every one of them to death if they came up with something as stupid as blow jobs or fucking.

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