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“Of course,” he replies, his tone cool and professional. “Walk with me.”
We turn and walk down the sideline toward the far end zone, steering clear of the knots of people milling about on the field.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“I just overheard Ryder talking to Jalen about sabotaging Carter,” I tell him. “He wants Jalen and the younger guys to make Carter look bad so you’ll have no choice but to hand the job to him.”
My father chuckles. “Young guys talk shit all the time. You know that.”
“This is different. They’re seriously going to try to undermine him.”
“Like I said, young guys talk shit. That’s what they do. When push comes to shove, nobody is going to hurt the team for the sake of personal advancement. Especially not guys like Jalen who have to fight to even make the roster.”
“They were very serious. At least, Ryder is.”
He stops and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “If something like that is up, I’ll handle it. I doubt those kinds of palace intrigues are going to happen, but I promise I’ll keep an eye out for it.”
“Dad—”
“That’s enough, Cami. I said I’d deal with it. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention, but I’ve got it now. I’ll take care of things on the football side. You just make sure you and your team are keeping my players healthy.”
He offers me a kind smile, but I frown and look away, frustrated because I know he’s not hearing me. This is another of those situations where he’s more concerned with upsetting the ecosystem than he is with nipping a serious problem in the bud.
“Are we good?” he asks.
“Not really.”
“Why are you so concerned about Carter Cole all of a sudden anyway?”
“I just don’t like seeing people get screwed by underhanded bullshit, Dad. What’s your infatuation with Ryder Simmons?”
“He’s the future of the franchise, Cami. And honestly, we haven’t had a winning season here in a while, and I’m afraid if we don’t right the ship quickly, ownership is going to decide it’s time to move on.”
My dad isn’t one who has ever worried about job security—he’s been a winner everywhere he’s gone. But I know he loves it here in the desert. He’s built a home here and hopes to finish out his career with Vegas. Hearing him suddenly sound insecure about his job status is new, and it hurts my heart for him. But that still doesn’t mean I’m willing to accept him turning a blind eye to something so underhanded happening on this team or allowing somebody to cheat to get ahead.
“I think Carter is your best bet to build a winner again,” I tell him. “He’s got the skills and the temperament. Ryder may have the skills, but he doesn’t have the maturity. Not yet.”
“I promise I’ll keep an eye on things,” he says with a gentle smile.
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Good girl. Now, I need to go run some drills.”
He walks off to join his players, leaving me here to stew in my frustration. I reported the situation, and realistically, I know I’ve done all I can do. I’ve got no power or authority to do anything. I hate feeling so helpless. So powerless. But more than anything, I hate that Carter is going to get screwed over by the younger guys and not be able to stop it. It's not fair.
I walk away, silently vowing to find some way to bring Ryder Simmons down. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to expose him for what he is.
7
CARTER
Chewing on an onion ring, I watch the rain fall outside the small diner I’m sitting in.
I’ve always loved the rain and loud, violent storms. Thunder cracks like a cannon going and so much lightning flashes overhead. It’s almost like there’s a cosmic strobe light flashing in the sky. It’s definitely a strong storm rolling. Unfortunately, it hasn’t cooled off much, leaving the air outside humid and sweltering. That’s something I can do without.
“Of all the gin joints in all the world.”
I look up, surprised to see Cami standing beside my table, a smile on her face. I take in the way her breasts strain against her light tracksuit jacket and how the black cotton leggings hug her incredible ass. My cock twitches at the sight.
