When he got home, he’d lock Kayla in her room. Find her a chastity belt and throw away the key. She was only nineteen for goodness’ sake! If he could save her from making the same mistakes he’d made…
“You just had to let him provoke you.” Justin’s hulk of a frame expanded beneath the black security uniform as he led them through the hallway and up to the manager’s office.
Throwing punches at the first provocation wasn’t supposed to be who he was anymore. Letting acute emotions sweep him away and dictate his actions may have been his old calling card, but he’d changed. Someone had changed him. And he had Justin to thank for leading him to that Someone.
A deep breath exhaled from his lungs. And now whatever witness he’d tried to be to his teammates had been wiped away with a single right hook and possible broken nose.
But…Kayla’s honor…
Justin scratched at the temple of his salt-and-pepper hair, the corner of his lips tipping a fraction. “I have to say, when you do something, you do it in full measure.”
Seth let his chin fall to his chest. “I know.”
The sound of their footfalls echoed around them. Hard to imagine the roar of the crowd earlier in the day when all was now quiet. Too quiet.
“Well?” Seth asked.
“Well what?”
“I’m waiting.”
“For?”
“For the sermon or bible verse or whatever reminding me to be slow to anger. That my quick temper isn’t going to convince any of those guys back in the locker room that there’s been any transformation in my life and that I’m better for it.”
Justin slowed and looked at Seth from the corner of his eye. “Sounds like you’re already preaching to yourself, son.”
Seth gritted his teeth. Accepting Jesus into his hearthadchanged him, but he still struggled. Still wrestled against the temptations that were constantly flaunted in his face. The old man that he’d been, the one that had lived for ease and pleasure of the moment, disgusted his new self but was also hard to deny at times.
Justin paused in front of the manager’s office, but he didn’t knock on the door. Instead, he turned to face Seth. “Look, no one’s perfect. Even the apostle Paul struggled and did things he didn’t want to or didn’t do things he should have. Cut yourself some slack.”
Seth opened his mouth to respond, but the office door ripped open. The team’s manager, Leon McCallister, thundered on the other side. “What is this I hear about a pub brawl in the locker room, Marshall?” He pushed off the door handle and stormed behind a massive desk to his chair, leaving Seth to follow in his wake.
Seth quietly closed the door behind him and strode across the expansive office. Trophies lined floating shelves along one wall, and framed retired jerseys of hall-of-famers hung along the other.
“Not saying Davie didn’t deserve it, but I would have lost money on the connecting knuckles belonging to you.”
Seth dipped his head. “Yes, sir.”
“This will mean a fine, as you know.”
“Yes, sir.”
Leon steepled his fingers in front of him on the desk. “Okay. Glad we got that cleared up. This incident does give me pause for what I wanted to discuss next, but I’m going to plow ahead anyway. Rumor mill spins the tale that the team is planning a trip to Las Vegas.” His eyes narrowed as he waited for Seth to confirm or deny.
“I have heard that as well, sir.”
“But you’re not planning to join them?”
“No, sir. I’ve already arranged to volunteer with refugee children in Germany. I spoke to you about my plans last month, if you recall.”
Leon’s mouth pulled to the side. “Didn’t know you were serious about that business. Rightio. Sorry to change plans on you, but I need you in Vegas with the crew. Keep them in line. Make sure none of them do anything so illegal it’ll blacken the club’s reputation and make international headlines.”
“You want me to chaperone?”
Leon swiped the glasses from his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This current situation aside, you’re the only one to show a lick of common sense among that lot.”
“They’re grown men, sir. Most of them, anyway. They can be responsible for their own actions.”
