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3
Luke
I hardly slept the next two days. The first night was because my body was raw from adrenaline, both from the football game and the attack. The second night was because every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that parking garage, being grabbed by a masked stranger. An intense feeling of danger washed over me whenever I glanced at a dark corner where an attacker might be hiding.
What if they live in my apartment building? What if they’re sneaking in right now? Why did they want to break my arm?
The attack was on Thursday night, and my family was flying back on Saturday. When it came time to meet them at their hotel to say goodbye, I walked through the lobby of my apartment and called an Uber rather than taking my own car.
“I hope you’re not still worried about what happened the other night,” Mom said.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I lied.
My other mom, who my sisters and I called Momma, took her turn hugging me. “This city is still safer than Philly!” She reached up and pinched my cheek. “Do what I did back in the seventies. Carry around a can of mace.”
“I’ve got a taser!” my middle sister, Blair, said cheerfully. “Haven’t had to use it, but I like knowing it’s in my purse.”
Theresa, the eldest sister, laughed. “Five women in this family, and of course it’s the oneboywho gets mugged. Now that’s ironic.”
“You’ll be okay,” whispered Blair, my other middle sister. “I’ll text you when we get home.”
The airport shuttle arrived, and the five of them watched as I loaded all their suitcases into the back. A few more hugs and goodbyes, and then they were gone.
I took an Uber back to my apartment. As soon as the door closed behind me, I realized just how alone I felt. Having my own apartment all to myself felt like freedom when I first moved in, but now I realized how much I missed having other people around. It was too quiet.
I don’t feel safe.
I grabbed my workout bag and decided to head to football practice, even though it didn’t start for another hour. Out of stubbornness, I made myself go to my car in the parking garage—though I waited until I heard one of my neighbors walking to their car, so I wouldn’t be alone. A few other players were already at the Stallions practice facility, and I put some headphones on and lightly jogged around the perimeter of the field to work up a sweat. Having a few other players and team employees around was comforting in a way I didn’t expect.
My other teammates slowly trickled onto the field. I joined them and chatted for a bit while we performed our warm-up stretches. None of them brought up the attack at my apartment complex, even though it had been all over the news. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about that, or unnerved that nobody seemed to care.
“Keep your head up, partner,” Brody said, clapping me on the shoulder in passing. “I’ve lived here a whole bunch of years and I’ve never been mugged. The odds of it happening twice are pretty low. But if you need a posse, give me a holler. We’ll roll deep wherever you go.”
I thanked him, but brushed aside the offer. Asking a teammate to hang out with me just so I could feel safe? That wasn’t something I could do without feeling like a loser.
We started with some simple passing drills with Dallas Lockett and two of the practice quarterbacks. I dropped the first two passes thrown to me, but soon I fell into a groove. Muscle memory took over and soon I had forgotten all about my problems. There was only me, the turf underneath my shoes, and the ball in the air. Run, jump, catch, repeat.
After passing drills, we broke off into groups and spent an hour reviewing game footage from the previous game. The coaches and assistants had specific things for us to work on. I took notes on my phone. After that were individual workouts that the physical trainers had assigned each player. I had half an hour on the exercise bike, then a series of weight lifting exercises. I fell into another groove while alternating bench presses with Kincaid and two of the other members of the receiver corps.
Halfway through the last exercise, one of the assistants flagged me down. “Hey, Luke. The GM wants to see you in his office after your next set. He says it’ll be quick.”
I had only spoken to the General Manager twice. The first time was on draft night, when the Stallions called to let me know they were selecting me in the first round. The second time was on the first day of training camp two months ago. He was a small, wiry guy with glasses, who looked more like a computer nerd than someone who belonged on a football field. As soon as I walked into his office, he got up from his desk and came around to shake my hand.
“Thanks for making some time for me,” he said.
“Sure, uh, boss,” I said. I was used to calling everyone around mecoach, but that wasn’t really his title. “What’s up? Am I doing something wrong?”
He quickly waved a hand. “No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to talk about what happened to you the other night. The attack.”
I felt myself stiffen. I tried to make myself relax as I said, “Oh, yeah. What about it?”
“You said it wasn’t a mugging?”
I shook my head. “Guy never tried to rob me. He made a comment about me not being able to play, I don’t remember the exact words, and then he tried to break my arm. I told all this to the cops, but they still insist it was a mugging gone wrong.”
The GM crossed his arms and nodded. “That’s what I heard. I know you’re probably rattled by all of this, and we want to make sure you feel safe here with the Stallions family. So, we’ve reached out to a security agency, and they’re going to be assigning a personal security detail to you.”
I blinked. “A bodyguard?”
