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And I had no plans on telling him what was really wrong.
“This job is tearing away at you,” he suggested. Which was true, so I let him keep thinking that was all it was.
“The pressure never ends. I thought being a player was hard.”
He opened the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. “Even after proving you can win, they still want to bring you down, huh?”
“The world won't be happy until I win without Cam Nichols at quarterback.”
“That’s just stupid, since Cam has repeatedly hyped you for being the reason his game has been on point.”
I just shrugged and headed to the locker room to shower and change. My little brother had no idea the number of words that were said just to be politically correct. Was that what Cam did? I had no idea. I definitely felt like I contributed to the entire team being cohesive and conditioned, but what did I know? I was the idiot that stalked into Charleigh Wright’s private locker room, held her by the throat, threatened her, and got hard while doing it. So, I wasn't much for good judgment at that moment.
Once I was showered and changed, I met Rhys in the lobby of the gym and started to suggest dinner but was stopped by the owner of the gym, Albert Conner.
“Coach? Can I have a word?” Al asked.
I nodded and motioned to my brother to give me one more second before I joined Al in his office. “What’s up?”
“I don't see you for months and you come in here like Rambo, going through my guys like a running back against a weak defense. What gives?”
I laughed at Al, and also regretted being away from the gym for so long. I had started working out at the complex because that’s where I always was but being back in the old gym with guys that weren't involved in the NFL was nice.
“Damn, Al, can a guy get a workout in?”
“Yeah, but damn kid, you’re scaring everyone out of the ring.”
“A lot of stress, what can I say?”
“Well, I’m gonna have to outsource your opponents if you don't chill a little. I spoke with my friend Bobby, he might have a few you can spar with but I’m not sure who’s in your weight and age class. They may make you cry, Coach.”
I instantly perked up at the idea of someone bigger and younger than me wanting to go head-to-head. Fighting was a rush and even though I knew I needed to let it go, it was the only thing that kept my mind off Charleigh.
“You bring whoever you need to over, Al. I need all the punches I can get to make it through this season.”
“Your funeral. When you want it?”
“Next Monday, when I get back to town.”
“Ok, but it may need to be at their place, and it's in a rougher neighborhood. No fancy pants penthouses down there.”
I rolled my eyes.
Once upon a time, I didn't have a penthouse either. I had a two-bedroom house in downtown Oakland. A hard neighborhood with a mom that worked her ass off to make sure we didn't end up on the streets after my dad split on us.
Being able to play sports saved our lives. Not just mine and my brother’s but hers as well. We both went to college on sports scholarships and the day we went pro, we made sure mom was taken care of. I was the oldest, and the first to see the dollars hit my account, so I bought her a new house in a safer part of town.
By the time Rhys had his first paycheck dropped into his account, he made sure she had everything else she could ever want. She still worked and stayed active in the community, though. Even taking kids under her wing that needed a safe place to turn to.
The bottom line was, I wasn't some pretty boy that was too scared to cross over to the wrong side of the tracks–especially for a good fight.
“Just leave my name out of it and I’ll go wherever,” I told Al. I didn't need everyone down there knowing the head coach of the Jets was looking for a fight.
“I’ll text you when I know something,” Al agreed.
I left his office and nudged my brother who was looking down at his phone. “Let's go.”
We walked the few blocks back to my apartment building that sat near Centennial Park in downtown Atlanta. When I signed on to coach the Jets, I bought the entire top floor penthouse. It wasn't as extravagant and ritzy as some penthouses, but it was secluded and quiet. It gave me a safe place to escape to when the media just wanted to hound me.
