Page 126 of Red Zone
The air is thick and heavy, everyone watching him like he might still throw a punch.
But he doesn’t.
He just grabs his duffle, yanks his hoodie over his head, and storms toward the door.
I catch his arm before he can leave, leaning in just enough to lower my voice. “Jax. Breathe, man. Don’t do something stupid.”
He shakes me off, not even looking back as he shoves his phone into his pocket and stalks out of the locker room.
And everyone else?
They know better than to say a damn word.
The door slams behind Jaxon, and the silence he leaves behind is thick.
The wide receiver he lit up sits frozen on the bench, staring down at his hands.
And everyone else?
They just…stare.
At the floor. At the lockers. At me.
I run a hand over my face, letting out a sharp breath before stepping into the middle of the room.
“Y’all think that shit’s funny?” I say, my voice calm but carrying.
A few heads snap up.
I let my eyes sweep the room, from one guy to the next, until they all meet my stare.
“Because it’s not. You don’t talk about a teammate’s girl. You don’t talk about his family. You don’t talk about anything that isn’t your business. Ever.”
No one says a word.
I take another step forward, my tone hardening.
“You want to know what a team is? It’s having each other’s backs. On the field and off. It’s shutting your damn mouth when you don’t know what you’re talking about. And it’s knowing that what you say in here reflects on all of us out there. You disrespect one of us, you disrespect all of us.”
I glance at the kid who started it, and he nods quickly, looking like he wants to crawl into the floor.
“Good,” I say simply, my voice dropping back down.
Then I shake my head, turning back toward my locker.
Behind me, the air stays quiet, heavier now.
And just as I’m about to sit back down and strip off my pads, a voice cuts through the silence.
“Hayes.”
I look up.
Coach Harding stands in the doorway of his office, arms folded, expression unreadable.
“Step in here a minute,” he says.
Oh fuck.
