Traded

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He hated red. The color unsettled him. It was one of those things he hadn’t given much thought to until it was shoved right in his face, firing him up much like a red blanket did a feisty bull. Everywhere he looked, there it was, that deep blood-red color. Red jerseys, red shorts, the banners, the seats…even the cheerleaders’ pompoms were red. Added to that was the Arizona heat, a dry climate far different from the one he was used to. He never thought he’d say it in a million years, but he missed the rain, the clouds, the green, the ocean. He was homesick for Seattle even though he’d grown up in rural Idaho, with deep snow and long, cold winters, mountains all around them. Seattle had been his home, the first one of his adult life, since getting drafted as a first-round pick for the Seahawks. He’d been the favorite then, but oh, how things changed.

His gym bag tossed over his shoulder, Jake watched the team, the Cardinals, training on the field from the sidelines. He chewed a piece of gum as he took in the players running and tackling, then the whistle blowing and the coaching staff yelling. He spotted Jeger, a wide receiver, running a pass. The man was fast and had been with the team a long time, but the play he had called out at the line last year, when he’d fumbled the ball and cost them the season, would forever be his legacy. It was the type of screwup every player prayed would never happen.

“So you made it.” Bucky Phillips rested a hand on his shoulder. Jake had forgotten how tall the man was, this man he had never understood. He was in good shape and stood eye to eye with Jake, and he wore dark glasses and his trademark Cardinals cap, his sandy hair sticking out at the sides. He wore blue jeans, his arms tanned in his white golf shirt. His smile revealed white teeth, but Jake knew all too well that with men like Bucky, a smile only hid what they were really thinking.

“Arrived last night.” It had been after nine when he checked in to the Westin, alone, his home away from home until he found a new place to live, and as the hours ticked by and he’d been forced to board the plane alone, he had felt the distance from the girl he loved, who wouldn’t return his calls.

“Great to hear, great to hear. Heard you checked in with Danny.” The man didn’t say anything else, only pulling his hand away and letting it fall to his side. Jake wondered, when the coach said nothing else, whether the doctor had told him something he should be worried about.

“Yeah, I’m anxious to get out there.”

The smile Bucky wore widened, and he slapped Jake on the shoulders again. “Glad to hear you’re ready to go. Love the last of the season’s training.”

Jake wanted to let out a sigh of relief, feeling the dampness under his arms and down his back. Even though it was warm out, he wasn’t sweating from the heat, so he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, holding it together. The last thing he wanted was to appear weak.

He felt he should say something, but what? He just couldn’t get his tongue to connect with his brain. “Jeger looks good.”

“Jeger looks like s**t. He’s become cautious. You can see he hesitates now, ever since he busted his ribs. I don’t know. Some guys bounce back from an injury, but a few never shake it off. He’s lost it. Maybe he’ll never get it back. That’s when you’ve got to know yourself. When your career’s done, son, it’s best you figure it out yourself without anyone telling you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. It was a career burner, what Jeger had done, especially when he appeared to be on a downward slide. But then again, Jeger was one of the old guys, at thirty-two. He had been with the Cardinals for nine years, and when his contract was up, it wasn’t likely to be renewed. A nightmare for any pro ball player.

“Last good year was two years ago, when he ran seven hundred and twenty-six yards on forty-six catches. You need to be quick, think fast, have agility—be smart, quick minded. Jeger’s lost his edge. No, that position takes a different kind of mental sharpness, being fearless to race across the middle of the field on a third and ten and stretch out for a crossing route when you know you’re going to get hammered, get hit hard by some guy who has thirty to forty pounds on you. And that’s what you got, Jake Wilde.”

Huh? That sure in the hell wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d never thought of himself as fearless. No, that was his brother Logan. There were still times when life scared the ever-living s**t out of him and he found himself picking up the phone to call his brother. Jake just did things, especially in the game, without thinking about someone coming at him or who was coming up behind him. He caught the ball and ran, moved, and he could spin on a dime when the other team tried to take him out. So why, then, wouldn’t Jill call him back? He gave his head a shake and pulled in a breath. He needed her out of his head so he could focus on the game.

He forced himself to remember every time he got hit… It had been hard, coming out of nowhere and taking him out, knocking the wind out of him. He had never seen it coming. It had done something to him, but Jake knew that was when he had to push himself hard to be better, faster. That was why he’d torn his ACL, pushing through a minor injury, not listening to his body when it was screaming to stop. He was thickheaded and persistent, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t be like other guys and let things go. Jill still hadn’t called. Damn, her image just wouldn’t leave him be and get the hell out of his head. He fisted his hands.

“You don’t say much, do you?” Bucky said.

This time, Jake faced him. This man, for the next three years in his contract, was the one person who would stand between him being benched and having the chance to show his stuff on the field. “I talk when I have something to say. So do you want me out there?”

The team doctor had cleared him. He was in great shape, having spent time every day in the gym, keeping every other part of his body primed and ready to go.

Bucky slid off his shades, and his deep hazel eyes took in Jake as if trying to figure him out. Good luck on that. Jake knew he was as open as he was going to be right now, still feeling burned and betrayed by the coach who’d meant everything to him, and then there was Jill.

“You got your stuff?” Bucky said, gesturing with his chin to the bag looped over Jake’s shoulder. “Go get changed and get out there.” He slapped Jake on the back and then walked away to where the Cardinals were training on the field.

This was his team, his new team. Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it. He took a breath and blew it out, then headed to the locker room to change. He would step out onto the field and train with a team that, to him, still wasn’t his family.