Red Zone (Rock City Renegades #4)

Prologue

SYDNEY

“Morning, Winnie,” I say to my father’s receptionist as I step off the elevator, a small food container clutched in one hand. “I brought some goodies for Pluto.”

She sits forward in her chair, her gray bun barely sticking up over the top of the tall desk.

I can definitely relate, because at five foot one, I’m always the shortest adult in the room.

My older sister, Livvy, only has about two inches on me, although every player on our dad’s football team is still terrified of her.

It’s one of the few things we have in common.

“Oh, lovely!” she replies. “He gobbled the sweet potato cookies you made last week right up! I almost lost a finger!”

I chuckle, sliding the container across the desk.

She stands up and pops the top, a bright smile blooming across her face when she sees the heart-shaped pumpkin and peanut butter treats I whipped up last night.

I made a big batch for the dogs at the animal shelter where I volunteer, setting some aside for Winnie’s adorable Papillon, like always, because I just couldn’t help myself.

“Your father and sister are waiting for you in his office,” she tells me, pushing her black-framed cat-eye glasses up her nose. “Lots of commotion going on in there this afternoon, but I guess that’s normal with a brand-new season right around the corner.”

“Thanks, Win,” I say, leaving her to take care of business as I head down the hallway.

I have a million questions about why my presence was requested during this particular meeting, all of which I’m sure will be answered soon.

It’s not abnormal for my dad to rope me into dropping by the Renegades’ administrative building for a visit, but today, he was insistent that I be here at two o’clock sharp. And he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

I can hear them talking before I even step inside, Livvy speaking what sounds like a completely different language, since I know fuck-all about football.

They both look up when I enter the room, continuing their conversation as I immediately plop my ass into one of the plush accent chairs in the corner.

“He’s been a problem for the Rage,” she says.

“I’m not denying that. But the league’s investigation couldn’t prove that he’s done anything illegal.

I even did a little digging of my own, and I wasn’t able to find any dirt on him, either.

Just a couple speeding tickets and some warnings for being rowdy in public. ”

Livvy was set to be the heir apparent to the Rock City Renegades when our dad bought the franchise, but after falling in love with our quarterback almost two years ago, she realized that being a team owner wasn’t something she wanted.

She’s currently on the coaching staff at Kent State University, but still helps with team business from time to time.

She knows the game better than anyone else, which means that when she talks, my dad listens… usually.

“Olivia,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Our guys are meshing really well right now, both personally and professionally. Do you really want to risk that by adding a cancer like Steele Harlow to the locker room?”

She shakes her head, her blonde ponytail swishing across her back.

“That’s the thing, though. He’s been with Miami since he was drafted, and not a single one of his teammates has ever said a bad word about him.

Sure, he’s a pain in the ass to his opponents, and the media seems to have it out for him, but if we can get him to stop acting out, this could work.

Plus, we can sign him for next to nothing, which means we’ll have cap space left for emergencies.

With Rhodes getting hurt at camp, I don’t think we can afford to say no. ”

My father sits back, the leather of his chair groaning beneath him as he considers each of her points thoughtfully.

Since I have absolutely nothing useful to add to the exchange, I stay quiet, my eyes bouncing back and forth between them.

I fidget, toying with a rogue thread on my jeans as I wait for the moment he gives in, just like he always does with her.

This is exactly how her now-boyfriend, Maddox Dane, ended up in Cleveland during our inaugural season.

He blows out a breath, his posture relaxing slightly.

“Let’s say we do sign him. Less than a year ago, he stepped onto our field and flipped off an entire stadium full of people while they collectively booed him.

The media certainly won’t do us any favors once he’s here, so how do you suggest we get the fans to soften to the idea of him as a Renegade? ”

She smiles coyly, lifting an open palm in my direction. “That’s where Sydney comes in.”

“Me?” I scoff, my brows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t know the difference between a jockstrap and a first down. How the fuck am I supposed to help you decide whether or not to sign this guy?”

She levels me with a petulant stare—one that I’ve been on the receiving end of at least once a day for the last twenty-five years. “You’re not. We just need you to work your magic and turn him into America’s sweetheart.”

My head rears back as though I’ve been slapped. What the hell is she even talking about? What magic? They just made this guy out to be Satan reincarnate, and she thinks I have the power—or the desire—to change that?

Hard no. I’m all set.

Obviously, I’m wearing my inner thoughts right on my face, because I don’t even have to say anything as she elaborates.

“You know everything there is to know about social media, Syd. Not to mention, the entire team is already kind of terrified of you. We’ll let him know he has one chance to prove himself, and that his only option is to let you help him clean up his public image.

You can set up some community outreach opportunities and post photos to his accounts, so the city of Cleveland can see that he’s ready to turn over a new leaf. His gameplay will do the rest.”

They both train their stares on me as I let my sister’s words settle in.

She’s not wrong. I have a very expensive bachelor’s degree that proves I’m well-versed in social media management.

Up until now, all it’s done is collect dust on my shelf, but this could be my chance to put it to good use—and show my family that I’m more than just the wild card they’ve come to know and love.

Will it be easy? Probably not. But I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, and I’m sure as hell not about to start now.

“Alright,” I relent on a forced exhale. “Sign him.”