Chapter 32
NATE
Coach Mac’s face was grim. “You’re going to do what?”
“I have a meeting scheduled with management.”
He straightened up in his chair. “About what?”
I met his gaze, knowing he was going to try to convince me to keep my mouth shut. “This is going to be hard for you to hear, but I plan on telling them about my injury. My ex-agent knows, and he’s using it as leverage to get what he wants.”
He squinted his eyes. “What does he want? Money?”
“Yes.”
And I’ve spent far too long sitting back, feeling like my hands were tied. Now I finally had something solid to stop him.
He smacked his palms on the desk. “Then fucking pay him.”
I shook my head, trying to be careful with my tone. “I can’t, Coach.”
His jaw locked tight. His eyes held mine as if he were trying to figure out if I was serious or not.
“So, you’re just going to screw me over?”
There was no easy way to deal with him when his temper was hot, so I concentrated on sticking to the facts.
“The truth is coming out one way or another. Whether it’s from me or him. I didn’t want you blindsided.”
He let out a harsh breath and pushed his chair back so hard it smacked against the wall. “So, what is this? Some type of courtesy visit? You just walk in and drop a bomb like that?”
I exhaled heavily through my nose. “I have to do this.”
Did he think I wanted to be the guy who took down his coach? I hated this—all of it. But there was no clear way out or changing my mind.
This whole situation was already spiraling out of control. It wasn’t just about me anymore or him.
His expression hardened. “Do you realize what will happen if you do? You open this organization to fines, discipline. Draft picks. Hell, worse.”
He was angry, just as I suspected, but there was panic in his tone too. We both knew how this ended for him. With him sitting in front of management and having to explain why he let his star quarterback play injured in not just any game, but the Super Bowl.
I hated that my decision to play wasn’t just mine. But I couldn’t go back and change that. All I could do was try to control what happened next. Even though it was my decision to play, he was going to be the one to pay the highest price.
“I know that. That’s why I’m here to give you a heads-up.”
“This is bullshit.” He curled his fingers along the edge of the desk.
“Do you have any idea what this will do to me? You’re thirty-one, Nate.
There’s a whole world waiting for you out there when this is over.
” He spread his arms out. “I’m pushing sixty.
Where the fuck am I going? It will be all over for me.
You might as well put me in a cardboard box and bury me in the backyard. ”
He was thinking of himself. As much as I didn’t want to be the reason everything he’s built got ripped away from him, the fact of the matter was, the chips were going to fall where they fell.
I couldn’t continue to let this spiral, not if it meant bringing Becca down with me.
“Look, I know you’re pissed, and emotions are running high, but I don’t have any other options at this point. If I talk before Brian, I can control the narrative a bit. Trust me, this is the best-case scenario.”
He dragged a hand over his face and started pacing. “Can’t you just wait until the season’s over?” he asked, trying to find a way to work around this.
I met his gaze. “No.”
He walked around his desk, stopping a few feet in front of me. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We are in the middle of the season. This will be a three-ring circus. Just sit on it a little longer. You’ve waited this long, what’s another month or two?”
“Because the longer I sit on it, the worse it gets.”
“Worse, how?”
“He’s holding something else over my head.” I worked my jaw back and forth. “I don’t want to get into it, but if I stay silent and he talks first, it looks like I’m hiding it. I need to take responsibility for this before he tries to spin it into something it isn’t.”
His expression didn’t change, but the tension in his shoulders dropped slightly. He could tell he wasn’t changing my mind and was running out of arguments.
“If you tell them, I will be done. Dr. Clark will be fired for concealing your injury. So, think about that before you go and hand us over to management in a neat little bow, to save your own ass.”
I held his gaze, choosing more restraint than he realized. “I’m done having this bullshit hanging over my head. I’ll do my best to take as much blame as I can, but the story is coming out, whether you want it to or not.”
His face turned a shade of red I’d never seen before. And trust me, I’ve seen him pissed plenty of times.
“What exactly are you planning to tell them?”
“I made the call to play. I knew the risks. You didn’t force me.”
“How noble of you.”
Silence stretched between us. It was thick and uncomfortable.
“Don’t do this, Nate, I’m begging you. This is a mistake.”
My chest tightened with guilt. In his eyes, this was nothing short of betrayal.
It could potentially damage our relationship with the team.
I was prepared for the negative consequences, but in my mind, it was a small price to pay.
My integrity meant something. My word meant something.
My team counted on me to set a good example.
What kind of role model did that make me if I was comfortable with lying?
“I know it seems like I’m making you take the fall, but I’m just trying to own up to my part. I have to make this right.” I looked him dead in the eye. “You gave me a chance once, and I owe you that much, but I’m done letting people hold shit over my head.”
And with those parting words, I walked out of his office and headed toward management. I was sick of carrying this secret around and letting Brian think he had the upper hand. It was time to let the shit hit the fan.
I was dreading this, but I knew that, with everything I had, it was the right thing to do.
I stepped off the elevator and walked down the long hallway to the conference room. I paused just for a second outside the door, reminding myself to keep it short and straight to the point.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling a bead of sweat on my temple. Once I did this, there was no going back.
I stepped into the room, and conversations paused. The general manager, Gary Holmes, was seated at the head of the table. The VP of Operations, Vance Allyn, leaned against the wall, typing on his phone. VP of Compliance, Jason Merrick, was looking at something on his laptop.
Gary looked up and motioned me over. “Nate, why don’t you take a seat.”
I slid onto one of the metal chairs and gripped the armrest like my life depended on it. “Good afternoon.” I smiled, even though I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation. There was no easing into this. There was nothing comfortable about this whatsoever.
Vance tore his gaze away from his phone. “All right, go ahead and tell us what this meeting is about.”
“Before we start, I’d like to say something.
” I took a deep, calming breath, giving it a second to settle in my chest. “I appreciate the trust and opportunity you’ve given me over the years.
This game means everything to me. There have been many things that I’ve been proud of in my career, and a few things I am not. ”
Gary leaned forward and studied me. “Nate, what’s going on? This sounds like a retirement speech.”
I shook my head. “I assure you that’s not why I’m here. I scheduled this meeting because there are things that are going to come out, and I want you to hear them from me first.”
No one reacted or interrupted me. They simply watched me carefully.
“Last year, after we clinched the AFC championship title against New York, I sustained a grade 2 joint sprain during practice.” My voice sounded way steadier than I felt.
“It wasn’t bad enough to require surgery, but it was clear that if I were to continue playing, I would need some type of pain management treatment. ”
Gary tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “Who knew about this, because it sure as hell wasn’t me.”
I swallowed. “I made the decision to play. It was my decision.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s not what I asked.”
I folded my hands on my lap, hoping to get my leg to stop bouncing. “Coach Mac knew, and Dr. Clark was the one who evaluated me and gave me his professional opinion.”
I hated this. Throwing people under the bus to save my own skin, but if I were going to take accountability, then I needed to be honest.
Every single person at the table stared at me.
“Coach Mac knew?” Vance leaned against the wall, folding his arms. “And Dr. Clark?”
I shifted in my chair. “Dr. Clark evaluated me and explained to me what the risks were, but I told him I could push through it. I really believed that I could. If I had thought for one second that things would have ended the way they did, I never would have stepped foot on that field. I care about my teammates and this organization too much.”
No one could have predicted that I would have gotten sacked late in the second quarter. If I weren’t already injured, it probably wouldn’t have been a big deal.
Gary’s expression turned cold. It was controlled in a way that made it clear he was trying not to lose his temper. “We have team doctors for a reason, Nate.”
I opened my mouth and closed it. “You are correct, but at the end of the day, it’s just their medical opinion. I know my body and my limits better than anyone.”
“Clearly not.” He scoffed. “And going against a doctor’s recommendation is one thing. Concealing an injury is another, especially when it’s the biggest game of the year.”
He had me there, but didn’t every player in the NFL lie about an injury at some point? If you wanted to push through and be in the starting lineup, you needed to slip on a mask and not show any weakness whatsoever.
“You are correct. I was wrong, and I’m sorry, but I wanted to make it clear that no one forced me to play.”
Vance steepled his fingers under his chin and leaned forward. “Why are we hearing about this now?”