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“It was the best of both worlds,” Braves Cap said. “If my son won, then I would be over the moon with happiness. He would get to live the rest of his life knowing he won a college championship. If they lost, then at least I would have a huge payday to soften the blow. I could use the money to buy him a house, start his life off right.”
He stabbed a gloved finger in my direction. “Butyouhad to fuck it all up! Rather than take the touchdown at the end of the game, you knelt on the one-yard line. Penn State only won by a single point, which means they didn’t cover the spread. My son lost the game,andI lost my bet. Now he works at Home Depot for sixteen bucks an hour, and I havenothing. It’s all your fault, Luke August. You took everything from me!”
Everything suddenly made sense. That’s why he was targeting me rather than one of the other players. It was about gambling on the games… but it was personal, too.
“Outside linebacker… Brock Schulz?” He didn’t say anything, but his flinch told me I was right. “He broke through our line and tackled me in the third quarter. We swapped jerseys after the game.”
“A slap in the face after what you did!” Braves Cap hissed. “My son wouldn’t have done that if he had known what youtookfrom me!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Taking a knee rather than a touchdown was the smart football play. I cared more about winning than padding my stats, and taking a knee guaranteed that we would win.”
“And it guaranteed my ruin!” He gestured at me in disgust. “You were the All-American wide receiver. You were going to be drafted in the first round no matter what happened. Your life was only beginning. But that game was all I had. It meant everything to myfamily.”
Family. I thought about the reason I was here, how I would do anything for my family. Even terrible things, like rigging the Super Bowl. Would I threaten someone if it meant protecting Alex, or Blair? Would I blackmail someone if it meant Cazzie was safe? I wasn’t sure, but I knew one thing: I sympathized with this man. It was only for a second, a flicker of mutual understanding, but it was enough.
“You can get it all back,” Raspy Voice said. “If we take him up on his offer, your son…”
“I don’t want his money,” Braves Cap snapped. “What I want is hisfailure. I want him humiliated for what he did, humiliated in the biggest game of his life. Only then will he know what it’s like!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said gently. “I have no idea what you and your family have gone through. There are other ways to go about this, though…”
“We’re done talking. I’m giving the orders here, and you have yours. Play in the Super Bowl. Drop every single pass. Demand more passes, and keep dropping them. That’s the only way we can be even. That’s the only way to keep everyone you love safe.”
I flinched at the command. My gut recoiled against the idea of intentionally playing poorly, especially on the biggest stage there was. This might be the only time I ever made it to the Super Bowl, and to drop every single pass…
But my priorities were clear. I knew what mattered to me, and one football game paled in comparison to keeping my family safe. I would do anything to protect the women I loved.
Including Cazzie, I thought.Especially Cazzie.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“No, you won’t,” Raspy Voice said.
“I will. You have my word. I’ll play in the game and drop every single pass. As long as you promise never to hurt my family, then I’ll do whatever you want.”
“No, you won’t.” The bushes rustled and Raspy Voice came around to the path. He raised the gun, and I instinctively put my hands up.
But he wasn’t aiming it at me.
“He’s not going to drop every pass,” Raspy Voice told his partner, “because we’re going withhisplan.”
Braves Cap sneered. “You’re not the one in charge here.”
“But I’m the one doing all the work!” Raspy Voice insisted. “I tried breaking his arm in the parking garage. I set the fire to lure his bodyguard away, then threatened him in his apartment. All you’ve done is give orders and sent letters.”
“You wouldn’t be a part of all this if I didn’t bring you in,” Braves Cap retorted.
“When you brought me in, you said it was for money. You didn’t say nothing about getting revenge. I don’t give a shit about your personal vendetta. I’m here to get paid.” He turned to me. “Catch between 80 and 85 yards. I don’t care how many touchdowns you get—I’m putting everything on that 100-to-1 yardage bet. After that, we’re done. You can go back to—”
Braves Cap leaped from the bench and tackled his partner. They fell to the snow-covered path, jostling for position. Before I could figure out what to do, Braves Cap had the gun and was on his feet. He stepped back and positioned himself where he could aim at both of us at the same time.
“No deal,” he said.
He swung the gun at his partner, and fired.
The sound was a punch to my eardrums, and the flash momentarily blinded part of my vision. Raspy Voice barely moved. For a second I thought the shot had missed, but then he touched his belly. His gloved hands came away red, so dark that it almost looked black in the moonlight. With a grunt, he crumpled to the ground.
Shock fell into place like a blurry curtain on my brain. I had never seen someone get shot before. The white snow soaked up the blood as Raspy Voice rolled over and groaned.
