Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
West
A ll team facilities have a very specific feel and scent, and this one isn’t any different. There’s nothing like the smell of turf, sweat, and disinfectant spray first thing in the morning.
Sterling and I are barely coherent, groggy from only getting a few hours of sleep before our alarms went off, but Dane came through in the clutch. He awoke to Pandora’s post like the rest of the city did. So, after texting Sterling and I to get the real story, he stopped off to grab a few energy drinks to help us get through today’s workout. Luckily, I already feel it kicking in.
The sun beams through a row of windows near the top of the thirty-foot ceilings as me and my brothers make our way over to the free weights after warming up. A warmup that included fifteen reps of leg swings, ten sets of lunges, two reps of high knees, and a whole hell of a lot more.
It was slow-going at first, especially for Sterling, but he’s starting to pick up the pace now. Apparently, in addition to having a rough night, his morning didn’t get off to a great start, either. As expected, Tiffany was pissed that he left out so late to meet Lexi, but according to Sterling, somewhere in between bouts of yelling and cursing at the top of their lungs, they came to an understanding. One where Tiff finally seems to comprehend that Sterling’s only interactions with Lexi are about Jaxon. Hopefully, this will be the fresh start they both need.
I’m in the middle of a set of bicep curls when more guys from the team stroll in. Some look hyped up and ready to make the workout count, while others would clearly rather be anywhere but here.
It's never easy for any of us to leave our warm beds or our wives to push our way here, but it comes with the territory. We get used to missing important appointments and events. For instance, at this very moment, Blue’s heading out to meet our realtor at the building she found on the south side, and I would’ve loved to have been there with her. But I committed to this life. She and I both did, actually, knowing it would mean sometimes having to miss out on things that are far more important.
Dane pulls his arm across his chest to stretch as he speaks. “Damn, didn’t realize how much I needed this. I even got up and out of bed before my alarm went off.”
Those words perfectly contradict my thoughts, which has me smiling a little.
“Listen to you, getting all sentimental and shit,” I tease, parking my ass on the bench before grabbing the dumbbell again.
“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Just saying, we’ve always had football, so it feels like something’s missing without it.”
“Balance.”
He nods at my answer, so I’m guessing that was the word he was searching for. I know, because I’ve felt it, too. All three of us have, I think. Even with all the bad shit in our past, football has been one of the few constants.
I’m in my own head, thinking about my dad as well as a bunch of other bull that probably shouldn’t be my focus. My thoughts should be clear, locked in on the workout.
Sterling nods toward Finn over on the squat rack. “Look at this guy. His form’s terrible. A hundred bucks says he pulls a muscle before he finishes his set.”
“Should we tell him?” Dane asks, but I’m shaking my head before he gets the last of his question out.
“Up to you, but I’m not wasting my breath.”
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t think twice about giving a teammate advice when he needs to fix his form and decrease the weight. However, these aren’t normal circumstances, because we still haven’t sorted out who’s friend or foe.
“Shit.”
Both my brothers’ heads snap in my direction when that word hisses through my teeth. Then, the dumbbell lowers to the floor with a loud clatter. Their eyes are fixed on my shoulder as I rub it, and more than the pain, I hate the way they’re staring at me. Hate that I know what’s coming next.
“It’s still giving you trouble?” Sterling asks. “Maybe you should take it easy for today.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that now, but?—”
“I’m fine!”
I don’t mean to snap at Dane, but between the pain and being fucking annoyed, there’s no softening it.
Neither of them look away as I pick up the weight again and finish my set. I wish they’d just go back to their workouts and mind their fucking business, but if the tables were turned, I probably wouldn’t let it go so easily either.
These two kept up with my injury and recovery every step of the way, being as supportive as they could from a distance. So, they know what it took to get to this point—the pain, the struggle, the uncertainty—which is why I understand their concern. But they’re worrying for nothing. While I can’t promise that I won’t push myself to the limit, they’ll have to trust that I won’t undo the progress I’ve made.
No one understands how much I have at stake more than I do.
“Morning, boys.”
At the sound of Coach Wells’ voice, it’s like a switch flips. I erase the frustrated look off my face and lower my hand from my shoulder. The last thing I need is him overreacting like my brothers.
“Morning, Coach,” we echo back to him.
Coffee in hand, he smiles as we finish our reps. It’s no secret he’s got a lot riding on this season. All eyes are on him with all the changes he made, shaking up what was already believed to be a solid team. But he saw an opportunity and seized it, bringing the three of us together under his leadership, like he always said he would.
We can’t let him down.
I can’t let him down.
It might be pure adrenaline, but as I think those words, the pain sizzling in my shoulder starts to subside.
“I know this is the first team workout session,” he says, “but I’m thinking we can try something different this morning. West, I won’t force you to do this if you’re not ready.”
He’s being cryptic as hell, but he seems excited.
“I’m in. What is it?” I ask with a smile.
“Well, I’m thinking you should lead today’s workout. It’d be a good way for the guys to get a feel for how you do things. I know some of ‘em are a bit icy right now, but they’ll warm up over time. And, call me crazy, but I think letting them meet the real you is the best way forward. So, what do you say?”
Having worked with him for so long, I can read between the lines of what he’s saying, and I don’t disagree. The disconnect between me, my brothers, and the rest of the team isn’t about getting them to like us. To hell with that. They just need to respect us. While it’d be nice to function as a family, at the end of the day, even if we don’t ever get that part right, it’s all about positioning ourselves to win.
So, with that being said, I can’t argue with Coach’s logic.
“I, um… sure.” Forcing a smile, I lower the dumbbell back to the floor and stand, feeling my brothers’ eyes boring a hole into the back of my head. I know what they’re thinking, that I shouldn’t push myself. But the way I see it, the only way to be at full strength is to push harder .
I make my way to the center of the room, purposely not passing a look toward Dane or Sterling. I haven’t even said a word, and eyes are already shifting this way.
“Alright, listen up,” I call out, gaining the attention of the few who hadn’t yet noticed me.
Their body language is saying so much right now—eye rolls, heavy sighs, heads cocked to the side in annoyance, letting me know my voice is the last thing they want to hear this early. But I expected as much, so it doesn’t affect me.
“I know it’s early, and I know me and my brothers just got here, so most of you are probably asking yourselves ‘ why the fuck is this asshole talking to me right now?’ But the answer to that would be that I’ve watched you boys play. I’ve watched you sweat for this team, and I’ve watched you bleed for this team.”
Their stares aren’t quite as blank as they were a moment ago, so I take that as a sign that they might actually be listening.
“And because I’ve seen you put your hearts out there, I also know that every single person in this room is committed to giving their all to be ready when gameday comes. Am I right about that?”
A few mumbled yeses pipe up from the group, but there’s still resistance.
“As your new captain, Coach suggested that I lead our first workout, and I say we push ourselves. I say we set a standard for the season by going hard. Not just today, but every day.”
It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop as I scan the room, but it isn’t lost on me that the guys look more alert than they did a moment ago.
“So, boys, what’s it gonna be?” My volume climbs as my fists clench. “Are we here to lift a few weights, then take our asses home? Or are we here to go to fucking work?”
“Hell, yeah,” Jett says, startling most of us when his voice booms. He’s on his feet, larger than life, a vein throbbing in the side of his neck.
Chase stands next, and with that mean-ass look on his face it’s hard to tell if he’s with me or against me until he speaks. “Let’s fucking do it!”
He crosses both arms over his chest, and I smile, clapping my hands loudly as I repeat his words. “Let’s fucking do it!”
I’m a little shocked when most of the others rise to their feet, too, putting some pep in their step as they meet me in the center of the room. A few drag their feet, but I don’t focus on them.
“Okay, squat circuits are up first. Give me two sets. We’ll rest for one minute after that, then I want you to give me two more. And you’re not here to impress anyone, so keep the weight manageable. I’ll be looking out for bad form and correcting it.”
The next second, they’re on it, pushing themselves but taking my advice on weight and form into account. We push through the first and second sets together, then break. I take a sip from my water bottle and catch Reed’s eyes on me as I set it down. It seems rude to just look away, but when I give a casual nod just to be polite, he pretends not to notice.
Coach’s words ring inside my head. The ones about some of the guys being icy because they don’t know me, but with Reed, it feels deeper than that, and I’m not sure I believe things will ever change.
“Alright, let’s go. Two more sets. Starting with goblet squats this time.”
The guys follow my lead again while Coach Wells and Assistant Coach Powell watch from the sidelines. I can’t read their minds, but based on the looks on their faces as we finish up the squat circuit and move on to work our upper bodies, I think they’re pleased with how things are going. In the very least, they’re feeling what I’m feeling.
That there’s potential here.
“Okay, give me three sets of pull-ups, then we can move on.”
In my peripheral vision, I catch a glare from Sterling, and as I grip the bar above my head, I know what he’s thinking. That I’m pushing myself too hard. That I’m already in pain, and the last thing I need to be doing is three sets of pull-ups.
My gaze shifts to Coach Wells next, though, and when he points this way, smiling as he speaks, I can feel his energy all the way across the room. It’s hope, it’s expectation, it’s faith.
And it’s enough to quiet the doubts that look from Sterling had just put in my head.
I have to keep going.
I count through the first set in silence, pausing for sixty seconds when I’m done. And contrary to what Sterling seems to think, I’m okay. Even through the second and third sets, confirming my belief that I just have to focus on getting stronger.
We break for water, but only thirty seconds this time, then we’re back at it—planks, burpees, push-ups. It all feels like a blur as we near the end of the session. The guys are all red-faced and drenched, which means I did my job.
“Alright, we’ll close out with sled pushes,” I call out, smiling when most of them drop their heads. “Come on, guys. You know how it works. We put ourselves through hell in here to give them hell out there.”
To my right, the sound of Reed’s voice draws my attention. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’s the one talking, but I guess I got caught up in the moment, thinking we were all getting somewhere, working as a team.
“Something wrong, Lawson?”
I’m not trying to start shit by calling him out, but I’m getting kind of sick of the guy’s passive-aggressive BS. We’re both men, so he should fucking talk to me like a man.
A cocky smirk curves his mouth, and I don’t mean to square my shoulders, but I do out of habit. Just not usually with my own teammates. As the room falls silent, I’m certain Coach’s eyes are on me just like everyone else’s, observing the exchange between me and his former QB1. A second later, I see my brother’s flank me. Again, not because they’re looking for a fight, but we don’t know how to not step up for one another when shit goes sideways.
“I was just thinking,” Reed says. “We’ve done everything you’ve asked us to this morning. Mostly without mumbling and complaining.”
He’s not lying. They did step up.
“Your point?”
He glances around at the other guys, then back at me. “I’m thinking that, instead of everyone closing out on sled pushes, we make a little friendly competition out of it. Just you and me.”
“Not gonna lie, I like that idea a whole hell of a lot better,” Jett teases, perching both hands on his hips, looking completely wiped.
I hate that my gaze naturally drifts toward Dane, but it does. And without saying a word, I know what he’s thinking.
Don’t even fucking think about it, West.
“What’s the matter, King Midas?” Reed says with a smirk. “Don’t think you can hang? I know that California sunshine softened you up a bit, but you’ve still got some CP blood coursing through those veins, don’t you?”
My brow tenses, and I’m trying to stay calm. The last thing Coach needs to see is me letting this asshole get under my skin.
Being discreet, I wind both my shoulders, pretending to stretch them, but I’m really just testing the one . It’s already strained after such an intense workout, but I refuse to let Reed-Fucking-Lawson think I’m scared to face-off with him. Maybe, after this, he’ll finally learn to keep his fucking mouth shut, and the others will start seeing me in the light I’ve been waiting for.
As an equal.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
The guys find their second wind, getting hyped at the thought of a competition between their former captain, and their new one. I take a breath, staring as Remi and Axel step up to load the sleds with equal weight.
Reed glances toward me, stretching his neck to loosen it up, and I can’t wait to wipe that smug-ass grin off his face.
“Alright, ready-up, fellas,” Axel calls out, moving to stand between me and Reed as we get situated, gripping the arms of our sleds.”
The sound of laughter and conversation surround us, but Reed and I are stone-faced, both focused on the win.
“Okay. On your mark, get set… go! ”
Reed and I take off at the same time, down to what feels like the millisecond. Gritting my teeth, I push with everything in me, crossing the turf at lightning speed. Only, it isn’t fast enough. Reed’s keeping up, and the ache that had finally dulled to a quiet whimper is fucking screaming at me now.
I gauge how much further there is to go, knowing it’d be in my best interest to stop now, but there’s no chance of that happening. Reed winning fair and square is one thing, but I’d never hear the end of it if I don’t at least finish the drill. Earning the team’s respect has already been an uphill battle, so I can only imagine how much worse it would get.
Half the cheers at my back are for me, the other half are for Reed. I can’t see my brothers, but I imagine them watching with their arms folded, calling me every damn name in the book for agreeing to this.
But I’m almost there.
In my peripheral vision, I see Reed’s head turn this way as I pull ahead, using every ounce of strength in me to gain the lead. It pays off when I’m able to put even more distance between us, and suddenly the half of the cheers that weren’t for me are just a little bit quieter. I glance toward the coaches, and they’re just as invested, watching with their arms folded across their chests.
Don’t fumble this shit, West.
Just a little further.
Only a couple yards stand between me and victory, but I know Reed won’t give up so easily. So, against my better judgment, I position myself lower, digging deeper as I put more pressure on my shoulder to move the sled just a little bit faster. White-hot pain shoots through every muscle, every tendon, and for the fraction of a second, I convince myself that it’s worth it.
But in an instant, I’m reminded just how untrue that is.
“Fuck!” That word hisses out through gritted teeth, but not loud enough for Reed to hear it. My shoulder is officially spent, but I’m a breath away from finishing this thing on top. My only option is to power through using more leg strength, so that’s what I do, feeling the burn in my quads and hamstrings. I’ll definitely pay for this shit in the morning, but one more big surge of energy, and I’ve done it. I fucking beat this cocky asshole, and I’ve spared myself from having to hear him talk shit for the entire season.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!”
Winded and blinded by pain, I don’t immediately catch the voice of whoever’s just approached me.
His height and dark beard are the first things that ring familiar, then the name Bianca tattooed on his bicep—Chase. Out of everyone, he’s probably been the most welcoming, so I shouldn’t be surprised he made his way over to speak.
“Thanks.”
He nods. “It looked like Lawson was gonna take the lead about halfway through, but you weren’t having that shit.”
I clench my fist to keep from grabbing my shoulder, forcing a smile hearing Chase’s praise. “Yeah, he gave me a run for my money.”
Only then do I glance over to Reed, but he’s already staring, anger flaring in his eyes.
“Give me one sec,” I say to Chase, stepping past him to get to Reed. Looking him square in the eyes, I say what I need to say. “That was a good run. I don’t think I’ve ever had to push myself that hard.”
As a show of good sportsmanship, I offer him my hand, honestly unsure how he’ll respond. But when his eyes flit over my shoulder, right to where Coach is standing, I know his next move is completely insincere.
He shakes my hand, but only because he’s being watched.
“Good run,” he says back, and that’s it. As soon as he’s done speaking, he turns and walks away, rejecting the olive branch I won’t extend too many more times.
A hard slam to my shoulder has me reaching for it, and when I glance over, the one who’s delivered the blow is Sterling. And judging by the look on his face, it was one-hundred-percent intentional, his way of getting me to say with my wincing reaction what I won’t say out loud.
That I’m in pain.
“Was your little pissing match worth it?” he asks.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your fucking shoulder!” he whispers, but he may as well have just yelled that shit.
“You do know that if you keep pretending there isn’t an issue, if you keep pushing and avoiding going back to PT or whatever the hell needs to be done to fix this, it’s not just you who loses, right? It’s the team, it’s the three of us, because we all know this entire city is watching. The whole fucking country, ” he adds, pissing me the hell off because he’s right.
Everyone is watching.
“Figure that shit out,” are his parting words, and I’m left staring at his and Dane’s backs as they walk off without me.
I’m not in the mood to argue, but they couldn’t even begin to understand the pressure I’m under—to unify this team, to show Coach he made the right move, to show this city that I’m more than the person Pandora has them all thinking I am.
Some fuck-up who’s just like his father.
But Sterling’s right about one thing. The weight of this entire acquisition rests on my shoulders.
Literally.
I take a breath as my brother’s griping words linger with me. And when I peer up, I have Reed’s attention, which means he likely saw that whole thing play out. Including the part where I grabbed my shoulder after Sterling slammed into me. There’s this smirk and look of intrigue set on Reed’s face. A dark, menacing look that tells me all I need to know.
That he’s just been made aware of the one thing I hoped to keep off his radar, and thanks to Sterling’s piss-poor timing, this dickhead now smells blood in the water.
Just what I fucking need.