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She wanted respect.
She wanted dignity.
She wanted courtesy.
And I wanted her to have whatever she wanted.
My feet started moving before my brain connected with what our plan was. There really wasn't even a plan, I was moving on instinct. I couldn’t confront Richard at that moment, but I could take care of sixty-seven easily.
When I passed by Charleigh, she saw in my eyes that I was in fighter mode. She didn't even try to stop me, just watched me pass by and out onto the field. Everyone watched on, wondering what I was doing. Because they were all lost to what had happened, no one even tried stopping me. If I knew my players as well as I thought I did, they wouldn't try stopping me even if they did know. In fact, they would be lined up helping me.
“Sixty-seven,” I yelled when I was in the middle of the field. I saw his name on his back, but I refused to use it.
He turned around and looked confused–everyone was confused. What was the head coach doing on the field in the middle of the game? He smiled at me like I was going to ask for his autograph but instead, I grabbed onto the face mask of his helmet and pulled his face to mine.
“Don't you ever touch or speak to her again. Do you understand me?”
He looked confused at first but then figured out who I was talking about. His eyes got wide as flags started flying from the other referees. I knew I would be ejected from the game for approaching a player with the intent to kick his ass, but it’s like I told Charleigh at half time–I couldn't do it anymore.
Without letting him respond, and before I got pulled off of him, I yanked his mask again with my left hand pulling his helmet off. Then I swung my fist on my right, landing a blow directly in his jaw.
By then, there were people everywhere, pulling him from me and pushing me away from him. I had hoped to get more than one punch in but his team took him further and further away as mine did the same.
The head referee predictably ejected me from the game and I walked straight to the sideline to get my headset. I didn't bother placing it on my ears, just spoke into the microphone to the coaches in the booth.
“Get Richard to my office as soon as possible.”
I threw the headset down and walked to my office, waiting for Richard. If he thought he was coming to do damage control, he would be sadly mistaken.
There was nothing to control.
Nothing to even talk about.
There was just one thing on my mind.
Richard was my next victim.
Chapter41
Charleigh
Levi couldn't hold his anger in anymore.
I watched as he took sixty-seven’s helmet off and punched him in the jaw. He would have gotten in more than one if the players and coaches weren’t separating them. Martin was throwing flags everywhere but looked completely confused and taken aback by Coach Peyton’s actions.
He glanced at me, silently asking if I knew how it all started. I nodded because I did know, but it wasn’t going to be the answer Martin thought he was going to hear.
Once Levi walked from the field and toward the corridor, Martin approached me and I forced myself to shake off the shell shock.
“What the hell was that about?” Martin asked. I am sure he expected me to say something about sideline tension, or sixty-seven pushing or talking shit. But Levi was living in the moment with his true feelings on his shoulders and I wanted to do the same.
“It was me,” I confessed. “Sixty-seven passed by me and told me that my pussy belonged in a cheerleading skirt.”
“What?” Martin yelled, starting to look around for Chicago’s villain. “Where the fuck is he?”
“I’m sure he’s in the tent.” I was referencing the medical tent the teams had on the sidelines to check out players quickly. “I don't know what to do.”
Martin looked back at me and winced. “Coach Peyton heard him?”
