Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I stretched out on the couch, ice on my knee, and absently stared at the television. It was some sports documentary and I was barely paying attention. I was too busy reliving that sex in the closet with Taylor, that hot, dirty fucking sex. We didn’t make love, we fucked, and we both knew it and loved it. It was that sort of understanding that made me feel something else, something extra, for Taylor. She seemed to understand me implicitly, and she even was willing to forgive me for the biggest sin in my life.

  She was impossible to forget. I leaned back and considered sending her a text, but I didn’t want to seem fucking desperate. Besides, I’d see her early the next morning.

  As I relaxed and decided to call it an early night, there was a knock at my door.

  I wasn’t expecting anyone. A few guys from the team lived in the building, including Raylon, so I figured it was one of them.

  “Coming,” I called out and slowly got up. My knee was a bit stiff from the ice, but there was no pain anymore.

  The guy knocked again. “Be fucking patient,” I said loudly. “I’m coming.”

  I pulled open the door.

  Tony grinned in at me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You look surprised to see me.”

  “I am surprised.” I blocked the entrance to my apartment. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Let me in, kid,” he said. “We have to talk.”

  I stared at him for a second and then sighed, stepping aside. He walked into the room as I shut the door and locked it.

  “Nice place,” he said.

  “Glad you like it. Tell me why you’re here.”

  “You know, every time I see you, you’re very rude to me.” He walked into my kitchen and began looking into the cabinets. “You got anything to drink?”

  “Bottom right cabinet. Get two glasses.”

  “That’s my boy.” He found a bottle of whisky, and I watched as he poured two drinks. He slid one across the kitchen table to me as I sat down at one end. He sat down at the other.

  “Salut,” he said. We clinked glasses and drank.

  “You have a habit of showing up unannounced. I don’t like it.”

  “That’s fair. You’re not supposed to like it.”

  “I know what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  He smirked at me, and I hated that stupid fucking smile. I wanted to smash it off his face.

  “You’re trying to set me off balance so I’ll do something stupid.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe that’s it,” he mused, “or maybe I’m just impulsive.” He poured us both another drink. I sipped mine.

  “You people play games. It’s what you do. You’re a bunch of parasites.”

  “I’m just a man trying to make a living, just like you.”

  “Well, I’m not making much of a living.”

  “I saw. Your replacement played pretty good, minus that fumble.”

  “You came here to talk ball?”

  He sighed. “Always trying to get down to business. You know you suck at small talk, right?”

  “I don’t have time to waste on you, Tony. Plus, if anyone sees us together, it could be bad for me.”

  “Fine. I’m here about the money.”

  “What about it?”

  “We’re square now, nice and even. Funny how that works out, right?”

  “Good,” I said. “And I’m done placing bets.”

  “That’s okay,” he said, smiling. “We don’t want you to place bets for us anymore.”

  That surprised me. For as long as I had known Tony and the mob, they were constantly trying to get their claws deeper and deeper into me. I narrowed my eyes at him, watching him carefully, trying to catch some sign of what he was up to. He was looking at me with an easy smile as he sipped his drink.

  “What do you want then?”

  “We want a simple favor, and then you’ll be done.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “I’ll be done?”

  “Sure. We’ll let you go.”

  “Why?”

  “Frankly? Because you’re a fucking pain in the ass. You’re just not useful to us anymore, and I decided to cut you loose. I don’t feel like chasing you down anymore.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “What do you want in exchange for this?”

  He smiled and leaned toward me. “Simple. I want you to recruit Kennings for me.”

  I leaned back and sipped my drink. “Recruit him how?”

  “Get him to bet with us. That’s all.”

  I shook my head. “No way.”

  “Why not? He’s your replacement. You must hate him.”

  “He’s not replacing me. He’s just a backup that had a good game.”

  “Maybe.” Tony shrugged. “Or maybe you’re finished, kid.”

  “Is that it? You’re betting on Kennings to take over my spot and letting me go before I’m all washed up?”

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah. That’s exactly it.”

  “You motherfucker.” I clutched my glass.

  “Isn’t this what you want? You get to go free. Maybe we’re wrong and you end up as the starter again.”

  “Or maybe I’ll be shooting myself in the foot by recruiting Kennings for you. Maybe you guys are more connected than I know.”

  He smiled at me. “Smart kid.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Anyway, that’s the deal. You do that for us, we let you go.” He finished his drink and stood up. “Any questions?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He started walking toward the door.

  “I mean, no, I won’t help you.”

  “Yes, you will,” he said, unlocking the door and opening it. He paused and looked back at me. “Because you’re smart and you know what’s best for you.”

  He left my apartment, shutting the door softly.

  I stared down at the drink in my hand, finished it, and poured another one.

  What the fuck was I supposed to do?

  On the face of it, this was my opportunity to get away from the mafia. I’d been wanting that for as long as I could remember.

  But at what cost? Kennings was a decent guy. I had nothing against him. Could I really trap somebody else in my place?

  There was no real guarantee that they’d leave me alone if I convinced Kennings. The mafia would still have everything on me that they’d had before, and nothing would ever change that.

  Either way, it was a huge risk. I could remain stuck under their thumb, placing bets and getting screwed, or I could throw an innocent guy under the bus and still maybe end up fucked.

  I sat there at the kitchen table, trying to decide what I should do. By the time I decided to head to bed, the bottle was half empty.

  27

  Taylor

  Owen was late to practice, which wasn’t like him.

  I was genuinely worried as I sat in the training room, waiting for him to show up. I went through the whole facility trying to find him, but nobody had seen him. None of the coaches knew he was missing, so I made sure to steer clear of them, because I didn’t want to get him in trouble. But it was weird that he hadn’t shown up yet.

  I had my phone out, debating whether I should text him or not, when he finally appeared in the doorway.

  “Miss me?” he asked.

  I frowned at him. “You’re late.”

  “I know. Rough night.”

  “Did you go out?”

  He laughed. “Not exactly.”

  “What happened?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t tell you here.”

  “Okay. Come on.”

  We headed out of the training room together, back toward the exercise room where we usually did our routine. It would be empty at this point, and nobody would be able to overhear us.

  We got into the room, and I set up the ma
ts while he leaned up against the wall. Once I was finished, he got onto his back and we started the routine.

  “Well?” I asked him.

  “I’m not sure you want to know.”

  “Just tell me, Owen.”

  “Fine.” I stretched him and he grunted. “It’s about the mob.”

  “Did they come after you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Owen.”

  He laughed, grinning at me. “I love teasing you.”

  “This isn’t something to tease me about.”

  “Fine. That guy, Tony, showed up at my place last night, said that we’re square as far as money goes.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

  “I won the bet I placed with them when we won that game, so that negated my loss and we’re even.”

  “That’s good then.”

  “He also offered me a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “It’s a way for me to get out of debt with them. He said they’d let me go.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “What would you have to do?”

  “They want me to recruit Kennings.”

  I paused what I was doing. “Seriously?”

  “They probably think Kennings is going to take over my spot. They’re probably trying to switch over to the winning horse.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “They have more connections than you realize, Taylor. I haven’t exactly been easy to deal with for them. I’m betting they hope Kennings will play along better.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You can’t get Kennings involved.”

  “I agree. There’s no real proof that they’ll even leave me alone. They still have everything on me that they had before.”

  I sighed, shaking my head as I stretched him. “This seems bad.”

  “It is bad. If I go to Kennings and trust them, I could really fuck myself. Who knows if I could even get Kennings involved?”

  “But this could be your chance to finally get away.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Shit, Owen.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “I don’t know what you should do. It’d be wrong to get Kennings involved, but what other choice do you have?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never really had a choice in all this.” He stared at me as I paused our workout. “I told you this for a reason.”

  “What reason?”

  “I trust you. I want you to tell me what to do.”

  I blinked and then shook my head. “I can’t do that, Owen. I don’t know anything about this stuff.”

  “Maybe not, but maybe that’s good. You’re an outsider with a new perspective.”

  “I think you should go to the police.”

  He laughed. “I can’t do that. They own the cops.”

  “Then I don’t know.” I felt frustrated, but oddly flattered.

  I doubted Owen ever went to anyone about anything. He seemed like the kind of man who took care of this own problems and didn’t need anyone’s help or advice. The simple fact that he was asking me about it at all was amazing.

  It said a lot about how he felt about me, and as I resumed our routine, I felt something deepening inside me.

  Once we were done, we both stood up. He rolled his neck and shoulders.

  “Think about it,” he said. “Tell me what to do.”

  “I can’t tell you what to do, but I guess I’ll think about it some more.”

  “Thanks, Taylor.” He grabbed my hand, and I felt a thrill run through my stomach. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah.” I stared after him as he left, not sure how I felt.

  He clearly trusted me. I had known he did, or at least I had thought he did, but this proved it.

  I trusted him too. He was mixed up with some bad people, and he had done some bad things, but that didn’t make him a bad person. I wanted to tell him what to do, and I wished I could solve this problem for him.

  But there was no easy answer. He had found himself in an impossible situation, and I couldn’t help him. I could support him and try as hard as I could, but I knew that in the end Owen was going to have to solve this on his own.

  I finished up some paperwork back at my desk and then headed out to the practice field. I wasn’t in any hurry, since Owen probably wasn’t going to be dressed and practicing today. I walked outside, smiling at the clear blue sky, and took a deep breath.

  And then released it with a shock when I looked out onto the field.

  Owen was practicing. He was wearing his practice uniform, and he was in with his other position players.

  Except instead of practicing in the starting spot, he was practicing as the backup.

  I stared with absolute horror as the practice unfolded. The players were always ranked and placed into positions based on their importance to the team. You could easily see who was a starter and who rode the bench at a glance.

  At a glance, it looked like Owen was the backup and Kennings was the starter.

  Cold dread spread through me as I joined the other trainers. Nobody said anything or looked at me, but I could feel their anxiety.

  Owen was back to work too soon. Worse than that, Coach had him in the backup position, which meant he had been downgraded.

  This was bad, and I could only guess how Owen was feeling about it. I wished I could go out on the field and talk to him.

  Instead, I had to stand on the sidelines, powerless all over again, as he went through practice, living out his worst nightmare.

  28

  Owen

  I hadn’t expected to practice. But when I finally got into the locker room, one of the assistant coaches was there, waiting for me. He told me to get dressed, that I was expected out on the field.

  I didn’t know that I’d been medically cleared, but I was ready. I got my clothes on and headed out, late but not horribly late. I joined up with the running backs and headed to my usual position as the starter.

  “Rack,” the running back coach called out. “You’re number two. Kennings is number one. Got it?”

  I stood still and didn’t respond at first. Finally, I said, “Got it.”

  He nodded, and we got to work.

  I’d been downgraded to the backup. I was furious as we went through our warm-up reps. Nobody was looking at me, but I wasn’t avoiding their stares. I didn’t need their fucking pity or their awkwardness. Kennings, to his credit, wasn’t pretending like I wasn’t around, and we talked like we normally did.

  But I was fucking pissed. Not at Kennings, since he was just playing his game. I was pissed at Coach for bringing me back early only to stick me into the backup position.

  If they didn’t want to play me, why not let me get more rest and heal up? My knee felt good, it was true, but there was still some stiffness. I could have used another day or two off my feet to really get back to one hundred percent.

  Instead, they had decided to fucking humiliate me.

  I didn’t understand what was going on or what Coach was thinking, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t say a single word about it. I didn’t even let my furious anger show on my face. I just went through practice and did as I was told. If anything, I worked harder, pushing past whatever discomfort I was feeling.

  It still felt damn good to be back on the field. I had nearly forgotten how fucking good it felt to get back out here and be physical, pushing through my exhaustion, pushing past my body’s limits. I loved making my body work and finding out what my limits were, but more than that, I loved finding other people’s limits.

  Even in the backup spot, I still felt good as I ran down the turf, my body pumping, lungs pulling air, legs burning. I could feel that wall deep inside me, the one that held me back, but I kept going anyway. I wanted to set every inch of myself on fire, pure and clean burning fire. I’d push hard in pract
ice and come through feeling good, backup or not.

  I kept my head down and worked through practice. I wasn’t about to make a scene or act like I was upset. Soon enough, the other guys got the message and we went through practice like nothing was going on.

  Back in the shower after we were finished, I rinsed off. Kennings and I joked around, and for a second I forgot that we were rivals.

  Until Coach appeared in the doorway to the showers.

  “Rack,” he called out. “My office.”

  I poked my head out of my stall. “Okay, Coach.”

  “Dry the fuck off first.” He left.

  “You should go dripping wet,” Kennings said. “Sit down on his nice chair.”

  “He’d cut me,” I said, laughing.

  “No way. You’re the golden child. You’re up and coming.”

  “He doesn’t care about that. If I disobeyed him and got his chairs wet, he’d cut me.”

  Kennings laughed as I finished my shower and toweled off. I wrapped it around my waist and hurried out to my locker. I got dressed as fast as I could and then headed over to Coach’s office.

  I knocked twice. He called for me to come in. I opened the door and stepped inside.

  It was a nice office. He had a large wooden desk with two nice leather chairs sitting out in front of it. His trophies and accomplishments were lined up in rows on the filing cabinets behind him, and his desk was covered in papers. A small TV sat in the corner and was playing some game from 2003 on mute.

  “Sit,” he said.

  I sat down in front of him. Coach Kelly was a pale man, not in the best shape, but he had intense eyes and was known as a brilliant tactician. He had been a hugely respected coach in college, and now he was in the pros. He ran teams the way he saw fit, and nobody could question him on that.

  “You were number two today,” he said.

  I nodded. “Yes, Coach.”

  “How’d that feel?”

  “Shitty.”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I figured.”

  “But that won’t stop me. I’m just happy to be playing.”

  “Is that true?”

  I paused. “No,” I admitted. “I want to be the fucking starter. I’m the best running back on this team.”

  Coach smiled. “Yeah. You are.”