by Nacole Mills
When the ball was snapped back into Sam Smythe's hands, the defense went into action. Morgan cried out as she saw guys grabbing helmets to drag players down and one of the biggest hulking players ran straight for Smythe. The player practically broke Sam's back in two as he took down the quarterback, only to have the ball sail perfectly across the field into Larson's waiting arms.
"I don’t believe it!" The announcer said in Morgan's ear, "Smythe took a hard hit and he is down!"
"But wait! Larson's got the ball!" the other announcer jumped in.
Morgan stood on her tip toes and watched as Brent's number 93 gold and orange jersey took off down the field like lightening. He ran as though his life depended on it.
But out of nowhere, a blue jersey appeared. Someone from the other team was hunting him down, gunning for blood.
Hands reached out and grabbed at Brent's jersey. He was jerked back and off of his feet, and when Larson hit the ground, the hulking Blue Kraits player landed on top of him with a horrific thud.
And Brent Larson did not stir.
A horrific, chilling scream seemed to form at the base of Morgan's spine. It crept up her body, building momentum as it traveled over her. It echoed in her torso and rattled her heart and brain. When it finally escaped her mouth, the scream seemed to go on forever, until every morsel of breath had gone from her.
Morgan watched in horror as Brent laid still on the beautiful field of green.
Oh god, she thought as she sank to her knees, He's dead.
Chapter Nineteen
The stadium had an eerie quiet fall over it and to Morgan, everything seemed to slow to a crawl. Her eyes remained glued to her love, her sweetheart, but in the corner of her vision she saw medics sprinting to his side. Not too far away, many of the players were arguing and things were getting heated. Sam Smythe was limping back to the sidelines, holding his back where the defensive lineman had plowed into him. A sea of orange and blue brewed angrily. Something was building.
But Morgan only had eyes for Brent. She had not realized that she had tried to run to his side until her security detail, Max, had grabbed her around the waist to keep her from going.
"No! Let me go" she screamed as Mex held her up in the air. Her legs and arms flailed wildly. "Brent!"
"Okay, calm down," Max said, his low baritone voice soothing her, "He will be fine. Let the medics work."
And when Morgan stopped struggling, Max lowered her back to the ground. She watched, breathless, as the medical staff checked Brent out.
When he sat up out of his own volition, tears of joy rushed down Morgan's cheeks. The crowd, from both sides of the stadium, cheered and applauded as Brent climbed to his feet and walked gingerly to the sidelines.
"He's okay," Morgan whispered, wiping her tears away quickly.
"Oh yeah. He's a tough son of a gun. I've seen him take worse hits than that and jump right back up." Max tucked his hands in his pockets as he spoke, watching Brent with a keen eye.
The game kept on, though both Smythe and Larson were sidelined throughout it. The second string quarterback was decent enough, but without Larson there to catch the throws, the Caimans lost the ball to an interception.
The Blue Kraits were up, and when Erik Levitt took the field, his awful eyes found Morgan and he grinned at her. It was a vile gesture, one that told Morgan that he had been thinking of her, and that he had plans with her body. More than anything, he was certain that she would be his.
When the ball was snapped, Levitt was off like a shot. Down the field he jetted and Morgan could not take her eyes away from the man who wanted to win her. He turned, and with the greatest of ease, he caught the ball and began flying down the field.
"No... No... No!" Morgan shouted and the fans around her echoed the statement.
But it was no use. Erik Levitt scored a touchdown, putting the first points on the scoreboard and officially tying him and Larson for most touchdowns earned in a game.
Levitt did not dance or celebrate. He simply looked at Morgan, his eyes steady on her, and he winked. Just that. A simple little wink that made Morgan's teeth sit on edge.
"Don’t you worry now," Max said behind Morgan. She turned to look at the man working to protect her, and she knew by the look on his face that he had seen her trembling. "I've seen the Caimans come back from worse."
But the game kept going worse. The second string team proved to be just a little short, and another conversion gave the Blue Kraits the ball. A second goal was scored, but this time it was scored by the quarterback, who ran the ball in rather than tossing it to Levitt. Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that while the Caimans were losing 14-0, at least the record was still tied.
Levitt looked furious at the turn of events. He ran up to his quarterback and grabbed his helmet. Morgan could hear the screams from the other side of the field. "What the fuck was that? I told you to pass it to ME! Don’t you ever fucking do that again!"
The QB looked stunned, then angry, but Morgan paid him no mind. The teams changed, and she looked up at the clock to see that it was almost halftime. Neither Brent nor Sam had taken the field again, but Sam was up and stretching. For the moment, the record was tied and neither man had won.
But when Morgan peered at the other team on the other side of the field, the smile playing on Levitt’s face told her that he was not so ready to give up. Loud voices from the sidelines broke through the buzzing of the crowds and Morgan looked over. She saw Larson standing there, red-faced and screaming at two of the medics who were trying to calm him down.
"No! I've got to get back out there!" Larson's face looked panicked, and Morgan saw his eyes wide and upset. "You have got to clear me now!"
A big hit pulled Morgan's attention back to the field. She looked over and saw another Caimans player on his back, but this guy was clutching his side. Two defensive players for the Blue Kraits had shouldered him at the same time, possibly breaking some of his ribs.
The buzzer sounded and Morgan had never been so relieved for halftime before in her life. She looked over and saw Brent slamming his helmet down on the ground in frustration before walking off with the rest of the team.
Morgan looked up at Max. "Can I go back with them?"
Max raised an eyebrow at Morgan. "I don’t think so."
"Well, can you ask?"
Max sighed and pulled out his radio. He asked, and soon Morgan heard the words, "Bring her back."
Morgan and her security guard were soon headed down the long, dark tunnel toward the locker room. Morgan had been down here before to do interviews after games, but she did not hear the normal loud, rambunctious cheers coming from the players. Instead, there was a dark murmur that permeated through the air. With every step closer, Morgan felt a little more uneasy.
Max held the door open for Morgan and the two walked in to find the Caimans broken and bruised. The medics rushed between the hurt men, wrapping up cuts and applying ice packs to bandages. Larson was among them, and Morgan gasped when she saw the horrible angry bruise forming on his perfect skin.
"Oh no," she said under her breath.
Coach Boss walked by her angrily, not even noticing her presence. He was on a cell phone, screaming about "crooked refs" and that "anyone with eyes could see how my boys are getting killed out there."
Morgan looked around for a glimmer of hope from anyone and she found none. Even Sam Smythe, the captain of the team who was usually so full of optimism, looked glum off in the corner.
Larson looked up and saw Morgan standing in the doorway. He smiled at her sweetly, then grimaced when he tried to rise from the bench.
"No, you stay," Morgan said, holding up her hands as if to push him back down.
She went over to her boyfriend and she sank down on the bench beside him. Her hand came up and trailed down the side of his face. Brent's eyes avoided looking at Morgan, but she saw only him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice quiet and worried.
Brent nodded. "I'm fin
e. I just need to get back out there."
Morgan pulled Brent's face to hers and she stared deep into his beautiful blue eyes. She could practically feel him melting in her hands as she said, "You can do this. You can go out there and you are going to fight tough and you are going to kick Levitt’s ass. Because who are you?"
Brent scoffed. "Oh, come on baby, not that."
Morgan smiled, refusing to give up. "Because who are you?"
Nothing could stem the little grin that was trying to form on Brent's face. And it was like a ray of hope filled the room when Brent responded softly, "I am Brent Larson."
"And who are we?" Morgan smiled, and Brent's head stayed up all on its own.
"We are the Caimans," Brent said, his enthusiasm lacking.
"Ahwoo!" Morgan pressed her forehead to Brent's and she gave her sweetheart a soft kiss. "You all can do this, but you have to do it together."
Brent took a breath and he seemed to strengthen in front of her. His resolve was growing, and he said, "Yeah. Yeah!" Brent stood and he looked around at his team mates. "Guys," he said, his voice stronger than ever before, "We can do this!" He began walking around the sullen locker room. "I know they are playing dirty, but we play clean. We are faster. We jump higher! WE are better than them! And, my brothers, we are going to go out there and we will be victorious!"
The other players all looked at each other and Morgan could practically feel the energy in the room shift. Everyone's confidence seemed to grow, rising from the ashes as Larson paced around the room. Coach Boss looked on from the side with his arms crossed, nodding his head and looking pleased.
"Are you with me, boys? Are we going to go kick some ass?" Larson screamed, his baritone echoing off the locker room walls.
"Yeah!" the other players cried out, all jumping to their feet. "Let's kick some ass!"
Larson looked around and a grin spread across his face. "Because who are we?" The players all responded in unison, "AWHOO, we are the CAIMANS!"
Coach Boss clapped his hand loudly. "Let's get back out there and win us a football game!"
The rowdy cheers from the players left with them as they ran from the locker room, back out onto the field. Morgan stood as the last few people filed out, and she looked at Larson, who waited behind for her. Max bowed out of the room, standing just outside the door.
Brent walked over to Morgan and he put his hands on either side of her face. "I don’t know what I would do without you."
Morgan smiled up at him and she felt warmth, as though she was sitting in sunshine. "Good thing you'll never have to worry about that."
Morgan stood on her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck. She kissed his lips, softly and gently, letting the moment wash over them. For just that brief period of time, life felt as though it stopped cold and all that there was in the universe was Morgan, Brent, and the feeling of their bodies intertwined.
When their lips broke apart, Morgan whispered, "I love you, Brent Larson."
"I love you, Morgan McMinn."
Morgan grinned up at Larson, and that sudden surge of confidence was back and better than ever. "I think you have a football game to go win, mister!"
Chapter Twenty
The sunlight blinded Morgan as she walked out of the dark tunnel from the locker room back out on to the field. She was flanked on either side by her strong men: Larson on the right, Max on the left. She looked over at Brent and gave him an encouraging smile. The running back nodded before he ran off. Although she wanted to, she dared not kiss him now while millions of people were watching. Instead, she forced herself feel content with that kiss that they had shared together in secret in that empty locker room.
Now, it was time to go win a football game.
***
Morgan and Max moved back over to the press area. Morgan had barely gotten herself settled when the piercing blue eyes of Erik Levitt were on her again. But this time, she stared back with confidence. He could not tear her down, he would not make her afraid. He grinned at her, but she only gave him a stony glare in return.
The whistle from the referees and the cheers from the crowd started the third quarter of the game and the Caimans were on defense.
"Let's go, Caimans!" Morgan shouted as she clapped her hands hard and jumped up and down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max's dark eyes twinkle at her.
The defensive line was on point and they targeted Erik Levitt with every play. The quarterback for the Blue Kraits was desperately trying to deliver the ball to Levitt with every play, but he was short almost every time. Morgan watched as Levitt got more and more aggressive with both his team mates and the Caimans.
"Come on, you bastards!" he roared at the others on his team,
But it seemed that the angrier Levitt grew, the less his team mates wanted to help him. And all the while, the defense for the home team was working strong. Soon, the ball was converted and Levitt, angry and red-faced, ran back to his bench and slammed his helmet to the ground.
Larson, Smythe, and the other first stringers for the Caimans headed out to face that devious, hard-hitting Blue Kraits defense. Larson looked more determined and confident than Morgan had ever seen him. She watched as his eyes narrowed and his body tightened, ready to spring into action at any moment.
Morgan could not stop herself from cheering right along with the crowd. "Go, baby, go!" she screamed, her voice feeling hoarse. But she didn’t care. The anticipation made her body tie itself in knots, and all she wanted was for the play to begin.
At Smythe's call, the ball was snapped and Larson sprang forward. He was off like lightening, sprinting so fast that he looked like a blur as he blew past where Morgan was standing. The ball smoothly left Sam's hands, and as it flew in the air, Morgan held her breath. She watched the ball come sailing down, right into the waiting arms of Brent Larson.
The entire stadium erupted in cheers as Brent caught the ball. "Oh my god, GO! Go, baby!" Morgan screamed. Even Max next to her was cheering him along.
Larson was running as though his life depended on it. He ran hard and fast, looking all around as big, strong defensive linemen were creeping up on him. But Larson was just too quick footed.
"20... 15... 10!... 5!... TOUCHDOWN CAIMANS!" The announcer called out.
Morgan lost her mind and she screamed louder than anyone else there. Larson slammed the ball down and the rest of the Caimans rushed to jump all over him. Morgan could barely hear the announcer, who relayed that Larson had beat the record for touchdowns and was the current record holder above Levitt.
Once Larson was free from his celebrating team mates, he ran back to his bench, pointing a finger at Morgan.
"I LOVE YOU!" he shouted from behind his helmet.
"I love you, baby!" Morgan felt more alive than she ever had before as she watched her boyfriend grab a drink and settle himself down. Coach Boss and the assistant coaches swarmed him to congratulate him, and the defensive line went back out again.
Morgan looked up at the clock to see that the third quarter was only partly over. The clock was running down, but the game was nowhere near over. She looked for Levitt and found him glaring at Larson from across the field. Her heart skipped a beat, and she knew that Levitt would stop at nothing to win the record, the bet, and her.
The Blue Kraits took the ball after the kick-off, and when the ball was handed off to Levitt, he practically ripped the ball from his quarterback's hands. Levitt took off towards his own end-zone, and Morgan was horrified to see him blasting past every defensive player that tried to stop him. "NO!" she screamed, her hands balled up into fists and pounding on her legs.
Finally, Levitt was taken down at the 35-yard line. He hopped up and grabbed the mask of the Caiman player who took him down and he began shouting and cursing at the player. Levitt let him go, pushing him back. It frightened Morgan how quickly Levitt could turn on his anger. She looked him over and she saw every vein in his body pulsing, every muscle tense, and his skin was all dark red f
rom anger.
The teams set up again and when the ball was snapped back to the quarterback, Levitt took off toward the Blue Kraits' end zone. He was waiting for the ball and the quarterback was waiting for his open window.
"GET HIM!" Morgan shouted.
But before the defense could get to him, the quarterback snapped the ball to Levitt. Morgan's mouth dropped and she watched in horror as it sailed perfectly into Levitt’s waiting arms.
"TOUCHDOWN BLUE KRAITS!" The announcer shouted, his voice squeaking.
The crowd began booing and jeering the opposing team as Levitt celebrated. His team looked less than thrilled, and they began going through the motions of switching out. Levitt pointed at Morgan and the gesture turned her stomach.
"I'm coming for you, baby," Levitt said with a laugh and Morgan could taste bile in her mouth.
Morgan looked up at the scoreboard as the Blue Kraits kicked for the extra point. They lead 21-7 as the game entered the fourth quarter and Larson and Levitt were tied again for the record. Her heart fluttered, but she refused to let her confidence come down. She knew that Larson would do everything in his power to ensure a win for both his team and his relationship.
The Caimans went out to play offense and Smythe was setting up the perfect plays. The Blue Kraits had adopted the strategy of blocking Larson with everything that they had, so Smythe turned that strategy against them. He was delivering the ball to other players, even running it himself from time to time.
"What's he doing?" Morgan asked Max.
"It's perfect," Max said, "I mean, think about it. Levitt is too headstrong to want the ball to go to anyone else. Our boy Larson doesn’t mind if someone else gets a touchdown every now and then."
