Page 12 of The Revenge You Seek
Turning the key in my old Nissan Skyline, I turn the volume up and back out of the driveway, my thumb tapping the wheel along with the beat.
There’s a lightness to my body that I haven’t felt in… forever.
I know what’s to come isn’t going to be straightforward. I’m aware that the chances of being welcomed to the team with open arms and wide smiles is unlikely but knowing there’s fuck-all Luca Dunn or any of the others can do about it makes it that much sweeter.
The drive to the training facility is short and by the time I’m pulling to a stop beside the other cars already in the lot, excitement is buzzing through my veins.
I jog to the door and wrench it open, stepping through and breathing in the scent of the slightly overpowering air freshener they use, I assume to cover up the smell of the sweaty guys who are constantly filling the space.
The entrance is empty but as I get closer to the locker room door, the sound of muffled voices filters down to me.
I clench my fists as my excitement almost becomes too much to bear.
I slow to almost a complete stop outside the door, suck in a few deep breaths and run my fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my brow for a few seconds.
I want to remember this moment. The moment I show those assholes on the other side of the door that I’m not the nobody they think I am. That I’m not the loser captain of the Harriers who bombed out of the division every single year. That I’m not forever going to be held back by the shithole place I was unlucky enough to be born into.
I’m Kane fucking Legend and the Panthers have no clue what’s about to hit them.
I nod to myself and widen my shoulders and slam my palm down on the purple door.
The chatter gets louder for a few seconds as I step into the room. The scent of the air freshener dies out and is replaced by the familiar scent of sweat, mud and deodorant as slowly, almost every set of eyes in the room turn on me and the silence and tension becomes almost overbearing.
I look from each face to the next. Most are oblivious as to who I am and the importance of this moment but then I find a familiar set of eyes. They’re narrowed and filled with an anger I’m all too used to.
We’ve hated each other on and off the field for years. Despite the fact we’ve never actually spent any time together outside of a stadium, we both know that the mutual hatred and rivalry that festers inside of us will always stop us from being friends.
“What the fuck?” Luca barks, his lips curling in disgust as his fists curl at his sides.
“Don’t tell me Coach didn’t tell his beloved starting quarterback that he’s expecting a new wide receiver any day now.” The smugness in my tone rings out loud and clear through the locker room.
There are a couple of gasps from the few guys who know who I am, one in particular over Luca’s shoulders looks about ready to murder me right here on the spot—rightly so after the shit I’ve put his sister through, I guess.
“You’re lying,” Luca grits out as his sidekick and twin brother steps up beside him.
I smile at Leon although it’s totally insincere. I have no intention of making friends with any of these assholes.
I’m here for one reason and one reason only.
To play fucking football.
I was scouted during my first attempt at senior year. Our team might have been beyond abysmal, but I never was. I was the best thing the Harrow Creek Harriers had seen in a very long time, but even as good as I might be, my skill can hardly carry an entire team.
I did my best, and it was helped when Kyle, my little brother, stepped up to play with me but still, we were never going to turn the rest of the pilled-up, hungover, trailer trash that surrounded us every practice into a real team of winners, it just was never going to happen.
But without enough credits to graduate, I couldn’t accept my place as a Panther. So I retook the year, fucking bossed it, and was ready to make the move to Maddison until my little fucking brother got himself locked up.
But I guess, like they say, everything happens for a reason, because here I am about to claim my rightful place right alongside the Dunn twins as first string wide receiver. A position I’m sure many guys who are staring at me right now would give their left testicle for.
“Am I?” I ask, throwing my duffel down on the bench before me and unzipping my hoodie to reveal my Panthers jersey beneath.
“Y-you have to be. You can’t just turn up like this. That’s not how shit works.”
“Not in your world, maybe. But in mine, I’m right where I should be.”
Turning back to him, I find Luca’s lips pressed into a thin line, the muscles down his neck and across his shoulders straining to the point I wonder if they could snap, and his fist clenched, ready to throw a punch that I know he’s been desperate to land for a few years now.
My smile widens as my eyes hold his.
