Page 17 of Who's Saving You
And winning.
“He say something to you?”
“No, but we keep track of him. Heard he got a job with a new guy, but no one's giving names.”
Rhett, Dante, and I share a tangled past. It started with money, but somewhere along the way, it turned into a different kind of gamble. I never thought I’d betray my lovefor the game enough to rig its outcome, but at the time, it felt like the only move I could make. I only crossed that line once, yet I kept going with Dante and the business. How could I walk away from someone who had risked everything, too?
Rhett Daniels, though, could be the one to topple it all. So, we keep him close.
“How'd he act? Still afraid?”
Dante downs his drink, places it on the table beside him, and rubs a hand over his jaw. “That’s the thing. Fear’s a currency. Like money, it eventually runs out, ya know? Kind of like, the more you use it or the more it’s in your face, the easier it is to think you can beat it, and that leads you to doing something stupid.”
“What are you getting at?”
“He came in with a different attitude. A little more ballsy than usual.”
I continue to stare into the crowd. Something feels off.
Dante continues, “Could all just be a bluff, though. You and I both know the empty threats that come through this place. There’s always someone out there ready to try to take something from you.”
“Boss?” Jake, one of the security guys, steps forward. I watch as he taps the almost invisible earpiece. “Trouble on the floor.”
Dante stands at full attention. “Tell me.”
Jake steps to the glass window and points. We see two guys crowding three girls. They definitely look like the hipster scum that hangs around this place, flaunting daddy’s money, trying to score a date, but can’t because their personalities are so treacherous and their attitude so arrogant, they can’t get out of their own way. We all watch as the girls try to move away, but they continue to follow.
“Handle it. Assholes like that will give our club a bad name. If girls leave here feeling creeped out by the other guests, we get a bad reputation for being a sleazy joint.”
Jake nods, speaks low into the mic on his shirt, and within ten seconds, two very large bouncers who I didn't even know were there step into the light and forcibly move the two men out the side door. It’s quick, clean, and only the three girls notice that something just went down.
I stare a bit longer at the one girl; she seems familiar. Dante comes to my side and watches quietly. “As long as they’re dropping daddy’s money into our pocket, we’re all good. But a scene like that? Not worth it in the least.”
“Last thing we need is the authorities poking around these walls.” I let out a breath as I grab my hoodie, sliding it back on. “Keep an eye on Rhett, but do it quietly. I want to know who has him on payroll, who he fucks, and who he uses to get high.”
Dante nods. “I’m on it.”
I move toward the door. “Thanks, man. I’ll catch you over the weekend.”
“Win big, Saint.”
I raise a brow at him, and he chuckles. I throw the hood over my head and head out the way I came in, knowing in a few hours, I’ll be back on the field, running drills and signing autographs like tonight never happened.
6
Nik
I roll my shoulders, jump up and down a couple times, shaking the nerves out, and place my helmet on. The room buzzes with adrenaline while the stadium around us shakes with the undeniable noise that comes from a hyped crowd that isn’t our hometown.
Anyone will tell you it shouldn’t matter where you play—a field is a field—but the players know away games are a completely different beast. You’ve got hecklers and people who wish you’ll get injured, all so their team will advance. Then you’ve got your own fans who travel hundreds of miles to see you win, and that pressure to give them a win is heavy.
Make it a televised national game? Insanity. Thursday Night Lights flashing everywhere, playoff pressure is thick in the air, and tonight is a must-win to keep our seed. We’reon target to finish with a winning record, which will push us straight into playoff contention.
I should be locked in.
I’m not.
I’m thinking about my conversation with Dante. I’m thinking about Rhett.
