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“Trust, but verify,” the first man with the Braves Cap said as he rose from the bench. “If you try anything, or if anyone shows up unannounced, he’s going to blow your brains out all over this pretty white snow. So I’ll ask you again: are you here alone?”
“It’s just me.”
Braves Cap must have believed me, because he approached and patted me down. He took my phone, checked to make sure no apps were running, and then powered it off. He sat on the bench next to me. After a moment, I sat back down, too.
“Your note said you had a deal for us,” Braves Cap said. “We’re the ones who give orders. Not you.”
“You’re going to want to hear this one, I promise,” I replied. “And you must be curious, since you came.”
He stared at me for a long time. I wished I could see his face. Even just his eyes. As it was, it felt like I was being examined by a faceless shadow.Or the grim reaper.
“Talk,” he finally said.
“Seriously?” Raspy Voice said behind me. “What about sticking to—”
“Shut up. I want to hear what he has to say.”
I took a moment to collect myself, then I launched into the spiel I had been rehearsing for weeks. “You guys are betting on the football games. Right? That’s why you’re trying to affect the outcome without actually killing me? Because you only tried to break my arm in the parking garage, and you’ve given me lots of threats. If you wanted to actually kill me, you would have done it.”
Braves Cap stared at me without answering. So I went on.
“Your last note wasveryspecific.Don’t make any catches in the Super Bowl. Which means you’re probably making a prop bet. Wagering not on the outcome itself, but on my specific performance. Or maybe both, I don’t know. I looked up the odds online. If I play in the game and make fewer than five catches, a gambler can double their money. If I make fewer thanthreecatches, triple their money.” I paused for emphasis. “And if I makezerocatches? Well, that’s 10-to-1 odds. An easy way to make money, if you can strong-arm a player into it.”
Once again, neither of them said a word. The only sound was the wind whistling through the bushes.
“I’ll gladly do it,” I told them. “I’ll play in the Super Bowl and not make a single catch. I’ll drop every pass that comes to me if it means you won’t hurt my family, or Cazzie.”
“Then why the fuck are we here right now?” Raspy Voice barked.
“Because I have a better offer.”
“I doubt it,” Braves Cap said.
“Right now, I’m the golden boy of the offense. I’m Dallas’s first look on every single play. If I want the ball, I get it.”
“So fucking what?”
“Instead of betting on me doing poorly,” I said, “you can bet on me tosucceed. How many passes do you want me to get? How many touchdowns? There are hundreds of prop bets involving specific yardage. You can get 100-to-1 odds for betting on the exact yardage range I’ll get. Give me a target, like 90 to 95 yards, and I’ll get exactly that and stop. I’ll fake a leg cramp or something to ensure your bet wins. Bet ten grand on that, and you win a million bucks. That’s the best way to turn this to your advantage. And it means I still get to play and help my team win. Everyone wins.”
“Holy shit. He’s right,” Raspy Voice said behind me. “We can make a lot more money that way. Mortgage the house. A hundred grand turns into ten mil. I’d be set for life.”
I could hear the eagerness in his voice. It was a good plan, and it meant I could keep my family safeandhelp the Stallions win their third straight Super Bowl. All I had to do was sacrifice a little bit of my integrity. It was an easy trade compared to the alternative.
But Braves Cap shook his head. “No deal.”
“What?” I blurted out right as Raspy Voice said, “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Think about it,” Raspy Voice insisted. “We can be millionaires. We can retire. If we try his plan…”
“It’s not about the fucking money!” Braves Cap snapped.
“Then what is it about?” Raspy Voice asked, incredulous.
“Because of the goddamn National Championship game!” Braves Cap trembled so violently that I felt it through the bench we shared. “My son was the outside linebacker for Alabama. He wasn’t a great player. He’d never get drafted. That was the last game he would ever get to play in. Penn State was favored by three points. So I put a huge bet on the Nittany Lions to cover the spread and win by three. Took out a second mortgage on my house to do it.”
Raspy Voice grunted. “You bet against your own son?”
