Devon Drake, Cornerback

by Jean C. Joachim

  Hank ate with gusto, complimenting her on the food and emptying his plate. A sense of satisfaction at having made an exceptional meal flowed through her. When Al was alive and Buddy was young, Verna had enjoyed preparing dinner for them. Living alone had been a big adjustment. She didn’t cook much now, opting instead for frozen foods and sandwiches. But she was pleased her talent still existed.

  The way to his heart is through his stomach? Or maybe through his groin? She suppressed a smile at her private thought. Despite her shyness, Verna Carruthers responded to Hank Montgomery’s charm. It appeared obvious that he liked her. But she’d take control of things, keep them in the slow lane. She believed eventually she’d feel comfortable enough to sleep with him. Her body tingled at the notion.

  Everything about dating Hank Montgomery was good for Verna Carruthers. Ready to take the next step in her life, she’d chance a relationship. She dismissed the tantrum her son, Buddy, had thrown at the idea of her dating Hank. It’s my life. He’ll get over it. Doubt nagged in the back of her mind. He will deal with it, won’t he?

  * * * *

  Devon turned his car onto the highway as he headed toward Bradley International Airport in Windsor Locks, north of Hartford. Stormy’s plane was due in an hour. He sat back and let the speedy vehicle cruise at seventy.

  Her arrival, just three days before the opening game, was a Godsend. He’d been eating the wrong food, cutting out practice, and generally falling apart without her. Simply being with her motivated him to take care of himself and work out.

  A smile curled his lips as he listened to a favorite song on the radio and thought about having Stormy back in his life and his bed. Tonight, she’ll be with me again. Energy flowed back into his veins. With her at his side, he’d whip the hell out of the Sidewinders. He had no doubt.

  Samantha hadn’t spoken about Bullhorn recently. Devon was relieved to see her curiosity about the offensive lineman had faded. When they had been younger, there were times when he had resented the burden of making sure she was safe all the time. But as he’d gotten older, she’d taken care of him in return. She’d introduced him to her girlfriends, providing him with a never-ending pool of eligible women to date.

  When he’d planned to move to Connecticut, she gave up a job she hated to come with him and keep house. Samantha had grown into a responsible woman. She took care of his laundry, cleaned house, and cooked for him. In return, he gave her a place to live and had bought her a car. With their parents gone and their older siblings living in Oregon, Samantha and Devon had grown dependent on each other. When she took a job, he hired a housekeeper.

  Over the years, Devon had monitored Sam’s boyfriends, mostly from a distance. He hadn’t known the men before she’d started dating them, so he had butted out. But Bullhorn Brodsky was a well-known womanizer. He bragged about his exploits in the locker room, earning the admiration of some and the disrespect of others.

  The last thing Devon wanted was for his sister to become a notch on Brodsky’s bedpost. He set his mind to saving her from the clutches of the big man. Since she had given the braggart up, Devon’s mind relaxed. He tooled along, pleased with his life and the women in it.

  Pacing on the sidewalk in front of the arrivals building, he checked his watch again. A familiar bark caught his attention. He turned to see Stormy and Brodie come through the door. She wore a big smile. The pug raced to Devon, jumping up on his leg in an attempt to lick the footballer’s face. Dev bent down to let the canine have his way then folded his girl into his embrace.

  Her soft, warm flesh molded to his. He kissed her, took her luggage, and led them to the car.

  “I see Brodie made it through without a scratch.”

  “He’s not much of a traveler. He got real nervous, but we made it.”

  “That’s it. The end of your traveling days, unless you’re coming on a road trip with me.” Not sure how his pronouncement would be received, he glanced at her, relieved to see her grin at him and nod. A sense of peace, like he had never known before, washed through him. As he pulled out of the parking lot he, sighed. Now my life really begins.

  “Let’s stop at the grocery store,” he suggested, cruising at seventy on the highway.

  “What about Brodie?”

  “I’ll watch him while you shop.”

  “Miss my cooking?”

  “Damn right, I do.”

  “Okay. How’s your weight?”

  They discussed meals and schedules.

  “Sam’s given up Brodsky,” Devon said, a smile gracing his face.

  “Are you sure?”

  “She’s stopped talking about him.”

  “I wouldn’t take that as a sign that she’s given him up. The opposite might be true.”

  “You think she’s seeing him and not telling me?”

  “A distinct possibility. I would, if I were her.”

  “You’d be sneaky?”

  “Since you’re being so difficult, you’ve left her no choice.”

  “Damn.”

  “I love you, Dev, but sometimes, you’re too controlling.”

  He got quiet, focusing his gaze on the road. Am I driving her to him? Is it going to be my fault if she gets her heart broken by that bum?

  “Sam told me how nice and considerate he is,” Stormy put in.

  “Like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. He’s ready to pounce.”

  “I hope not. Maybe you’ve got him all wrong.”

  “If you heard him in the locker room, you’d understand.”

  She turned her gaze to his face. “And what about you in the locker room?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.”

  Brodie barked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The day the Kings played the St. Louis Sidewinders, Devon arrived at the stadium early.

  The bus that brought the Sidewinders from the airport was in the parking lot. The cornerback went into the locker room. He was the first one there, so he dropped down on one knee and said a quiet prayer. Then, he ripped off his T-shirt and began to change into his uniform.

  Fifteen minutes later, most of the players on his team had ambled in.

  “Bastards think they’re gonna win again. They’re wrong,” said Trunk Mahoney.

  “Damn right,” echoed Griff Montgomery.

  Lawson “The Kid” Breaker looked nervous.

  “No penalties, right, Kid?” Bullhorn asked, slapping the younger player on the back.

  Buddy Carruthers came in, his face dark and cloudy. He walked up to Griff. “If your fuckin’ father lays one finger on my mother, I’ll rip his arm off.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Oh? You don’t know? Your dad is circling around my mom, like a goddam buzzard. Tell him to stay away.”

  “I don’t know what he does. He doesn’t report to me. Besides, he’s getting his own place next week.”

  “Shit! Really? God damn! He’s gonna take her there. I swear, Griff, I’ll fuck him up if he tries anything with her.”

  “Easy, Buddy. Calm down. It’s not Griff’s fault his father is buzzin’ around your mom,” Devon said.

  “He’d better tell his dad to go get laid somewhere else.”

  “What makes you think they’re sleeping together?” Griff asked, pulling his cleats from his locker.

  “Oh, he’s definitely not sleeping with her. She’s no slut.”

  “Maybe she likes him. I think he likes her, but he hasn’t said much. And that’s fine with me. I don’t wanna know.”

  Buddy poked his friend in the chest. “She’s not sleeping with him. Not now, not ever. And you’d better tell him that. Tell him to find pussy somewhere else.”

  “Your mother is an adult, Buddy. She can tell him herself.”

  “Guys, can we keep the personal shit out of the locker room and off the field? Please? Come on, Buddy, get dressed. We’ve got a game to win. Bury the hatchet and get your head on straight,” Devon said.

  Buddy mumbled som
ething as he flung his locker door open.

  Coach Bass called the team together. “They got us last time. But we’re better now. We can do this. Beat them. No penalties, right? Top speed, Drake? Good blocking, Brodsky? Mahoney? We’ve worked hard, and today is our payoff. They’ll never even get to the playoffs. We’ll shut ’em down. Right?”

  The men cheered.

  Twenty minutes later, they ran out on the field. Their hometown fans went wild. This time, Griff won the toss. They elected to kick off. The defense took the field. Drake ran out with Mahoney and Tuffer Demson, another linebacker. Anderson Boyer, the Sidewinder’s quarterback, nodded to Devon, as did Norville Lucas. His former teammates didn’t cop a Super Bowl attitude, and the cornerback was grateful.

  Bet West pulls some shit. He’d have to wait for his offense to find out about Jeremiah West.

  After the kick-off, a touchback put the Sidewinders on their own twenty. The two teams lined up. Donovan Willis was also on the field. Determined to be the lead cornerback, Devon knew he had to watch both men. Right after the ball was hiked, he glanced back as he ran downfield. Sure enough, while Boyer’s body seemed turned toward Lucas, his helmet was facing Willis on the opposite side of the field.

  Devon revved his speed up and raced toward Donovan. As he got there, the ball came sailing toward both men. The cornerback pushed off. Airborne, he flew toward Willis, arms reaching. He was only able to get one finger on the ball, but it was enough to tip it up, out of the hands of the wide receiver. The two men landed hard as the ball bounced then rolled out of bounds.

  A huge cheer went up from the King’s side. Devon spied Coach Bass dancing a little jig by the bench. Drake smiled. This is going to be an interesting game. The Kings were pumped. They kept the Sidewinders from getting a first down with a sack by Trunk Mahoney.

  Buddy Carruthers took the field for the punt. He was joined by Caleb Turner, standing in for Marquel Johnson, still on the disabled list. The ball came deep, but Buddy had a bead on it.

  The wide receiver caught the ball on the eighteen yard line. Jeremiah West was barreling down on him from the left, so Buddy took off, veering to the right. Just as West was about to hit him, Bullhorn Brodsky came flying out of nowhere and collided with the defenseman. They both went down, leaving a clear path for Carruthers, who took advantage of it.

  He went scooting up the sideline for a gain of twenty-five yards to their own forty-three. Harley Brennan and Griff Montgomery ran out on the field. Nate Maguire went in for Brodsky. Devon paced as Mac Jenkins snapped the ball. Can Buddy share the field with Brennan?

  Bullhorn grabbed a bottle of water and joined Drake.

  “Nice play,” Devon said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can bang my sister.”

  Coach looked over and gave the cornerback a dirty look.

  “That’s her decision, not yours, Drake.” Bullhorn trained his gaze on the action on the field.

  Devon shifted his weight and watched Jeremiah West make attempt after attempt to sack Griff. Coach Bass had assigned Maguire to shut down West. Though it was an impossible task, the linebacker managed to divert Jeremiah until the quarterback could get rid of the ball.

  A roughing the passer penalty was called on West, who, obviously, couldn’t control his zeal to injure Montgomery. The fifteen yard penalty put the Kings just barely in field goal range.

  Devon glanced at the coach, who was biting a nail. Glad I don’t have to call this play.

  As if reading his mind, Bull spoke, “It’s only third down. He’s got one more before he has to decide whether or not to send in Anthony for the field goal.”

  Devon bristled. “I know.”

  The men stood quietly on the sidelines and watched Griff hand off the ball to Brennan. He managed to squeeze by the defensive line and took off, until West caught up with him. Harley went down hard, but they were in the red zone, close enough to score, and a field goal was almost assured.

  Robbie Anthony took the field. Brennan came off rubbing his shoulder. Coach called him over and had Hank Montgomery take a look.

  “If that fuckin’ monster West took out Brennan…” Drake started.

  “Yeah. Fuckin’ pig. Dickwad. We’ll get him,” Bullhorn said.

  The kick was good, and the Connecticut Kings inched ahead, three to nothing. Bull and Devon ambled onto the field. The kick off hovered and dropped near the twenty. Norville Lucas made the catch and took a knee.

  Drake watched Anderson Boyer, but he didn’t telegraph his intentions again. Devon had to guess who was getting the ball. As he expected, it went to Lucas more than to Willis, but the cornerback had a hard time anticipating. Lucas got by him three times. Devon was grinding his teeth. On the fourth play, Devon was taken out by an offensive linebacker, and Norville scored. They made the extra point sending the score to seven to three, Sidewinder’s favor.

  Devon yanked off his helmet, cursing at himself.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get them next time,” Mahoney said, as they came off the field.

  Devon grabbed a bottle of water and stood next to Trunk as they watched the action. Coach Bass sent Bullhorn Brodsky in, taking out a weaker offensive lineman.

  “The asshole can’t wait to cripple Griff,” the cornerback said.

  “Bull’ll get ’im.”

  Sure enough, when Jeremiah West went for Griff, Bullhorn was right behind Nate Maguire. While West managed to fend off Nate, Bull came around the other side and took out the big defenseman. They went down hard, but no penalty was called. The quarterback got off a solid pass to Harley Brennan, who made fifteen yards.

  West got to his feet, yelling. He was pointing to Brodsky, who kept a straight face and his lip zipped. The Sidewinders gathered around West, calming him down and pulling him away before the ref called a technical foul and levied a penalty.

  Next, the ball went to Buddy. He wound his way around the other defensemen with Brodsky at his side. Nate Maguire managed to get fouled by West, who obviously wasn’t in control of his temper. Fortunately the offensive linebacker wasn’t seriously hurt. Buddy made ten yards, and West’s personal foul for unnecessary roughness gave them another fifteen, landing the Kings in the red zone.

  Coach Bass signaled for their new trick play. Griff snapped the ball. Brodsky and Maguire double-teamed Jeremiah West. Harley Brennan took off at full speed, racing down the left side of the field. Buddy ran to the left also, but stayed in line with Griff.

  Just as Brodsky and Maguire couldn’t hold West anymore, Griff lateraled the ball to Buddy. The wide receiver backed up a couple of steps and fired off a shot to Brennan. Harley was open, as the defense had zeroed in on the wide receiver with the ball. The pass was completed. With West on Griff and the other defensemen going for Buddy, Brennan was in the clear. The new wide receiver ran for a touchdown. Carruthers was taken down, but not hurt. Touchdown, Kings. Robbie Anthony trotted out to make the extra point. Score was now ten to seven, Kings favor.

  The teams broke for halftime. Devon glanced up at the stands and spied Stormy sitting with Emmy and Lauren. She waved at him, and he raised his hand in response. The cornerback loped off the field toward the locker room. Disgust at his poor performance left a metallic taste in his mouth. He knew the Coach was going to give them a pep talk, but he had a hard time listening.

  “All we need to do is keep them from scoring. It’s up to the defense now.” The Coach looked directly at Devon. “You can shut Lucas down, Drake. You did it once. Do it again.”

  Shame turned to determination. His teammates clapped him on the back. They gave their Kings’ cheer and returned to the gridiron.

  The Kings received the ball at the start of the second half. Again, they marched down the field to the red zone, but could only score a field goal. Score—thirteen to seven. The Sidewinders only needed a touchdown and extra point to win the game. The pressure was on.

  Coach called Devon over. “They’re going to be giving the ball to Lucas every chan
ce they’ve got. He’s their best receiver. Let Mahoney handle Willis. He’s not that fast.”

  The cornerback nodded then ran onto the field. The ball was snapped. Devon saw Boyer fake to the left. He bolted for the right, his eyes on Lucas, who was right in front of him. Devon pushed his legs to run faster. They responded. His burst of speed brought him shoulder to shoulder with Norville Lucas. The cornerback glanced back. Boyer hesitated, looking at Lucas, then at Willis.

  Devon glanced for a second to his left and noticed Mahoney covering Willis. Within two seconds, Drake spied the ball headed for him. Lucas launched himself into the air to make the catch, but the cornerback was one step ahead of him. Devon pushed off, extended his arms, and came in contact with the ball first.

  He reached for it, his fingers sliding across slippery pigskin. Closing his hand around the pointed end caused it to pop up and out. With one quick swipe, Devon was able to bat the ball away before he plummeted to the ground. It landed at the feet of a Kings’ defenseman. He fell on the ball, and the play was called dead, an incomplete pass.

  A huge cheer went up from the Kings’ fans. Devon smiled as his gaze connected with Stormy’s. Trunk slapped him on the back. Then, they lined up again. This time, Anderson Boyer handed the ball off to Willis. Trunk was there and took the runner down. The Sidewinder’s gained three yards.

  Fourth down. The punt was received on the Kings’ forty yard line. The offense took the field. The Sidewinders’ defense locked into place and shut the Kings’ down before they made it to the red zone. Robbie Anthony punted.

  Possession of the ball went back and forth with no scoring for the rest of the third quarter and half of the fourth. Willis fielded the Kings’ kick and ran it back to their own forty-five yard line. Devon began to sweat. They’re getting too close.

  Trunk leaned over. “Lucas. I swear.”

  Drake nodded. He’s right. They need Norville now. Only two minutes left to play. Time to pull out the big guns.

  They lined up. Boyer faked to his right, toward Willis. Devon held his breath. What if we’re wrong?