Chapter 4
He was sweaty and sore, and he could taste blood. He’d been tackled hard from behind, taken down by three of what he thought were the heaviest guys on the team. It was overkill. They had piled on him, and he heard something in his back c***k as he moved his now stiffening shoulder. He knew he needed a rubdown to work all the kinks out. The blood in his mouth must have come from the last of the four poundings he’d taken—even though this was just practice and he’d had his mouthguard firmly in place. Evidently, this was his “welcome to the team” initiation. Or maybe payback for the last game he’d played against them with the Seahawks.
“Good practice, Wilde. Way to hold your own out there.” Dorcel, the quarterback, caught up to him on the way to the locker room. His jet-black hair
