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Plunge (Alpha Athletes 1)

Page 43

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world stage was in our own fucking backyard. It didn’t make any damn sense. All this talent. All this skill. Millions in paychecks and endorsements. The most famous players and we’d never clinched the big ones.

I strutted into the dressing room. I needed a bottle of water and a few aspirins to nurse the end of the hangover. I doubted I could get a pint delivered before practice started. I licked my lips, thinking how that would taste in the heat.

My T-shirt was stuck to the front of my chest. I pulled it away from my skin as I looked for my locker.

We shared these lockers with teams from the other countries in our assigned group. I didn’t expect to see my name engraved over the bench, but I expected more than what I had. I was an international name. I had my own cologne. My own sports clothing line. I had sponsorships for beverages and watches, and I had recently signed a contract for my own football video game with a US company. It was going to be the full Lachlan Kenzie experience. They were developing the smart phone app for the game as well. I had more corporate star power than anyone else in this room.

I stared at the empty locker. Where were my damn boots? Where was the practice kit? There wasn’t even water in this fucking place.

The rest of the guys started hollering at the equipment handlers. I wasn’t the only one who complained about this cock up.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. This was shit. Nothing but total shit.

“What the fuck?” I roared.

My temple throbbed with sharp pain. My fingers tingled. I drew back and knocked the side of the box where my equipment should be.

“Lach, calm the fuck down.”

I shook out my palm. Blood trickled from my knuckles. I had split the skin in a jagged line.

I stormed past the other players.

“Where are you going?” Conley tried to jump in front of me, but I shoved him out of the way. I’d had enough of his bullshit for the day.

“Lach, come on!”

I didn’t answer. I kept walking. I emerged through the tunnel onto the pitch. It was being lined on one side with white chalk. They weren’t ready for us. I grabbed a ball from the rack and kicked it halfway across the stadium. It curved in mid-air. I didn’t bother to see where it landed or if it hit anyone as it rocketed off my foot.

I strutted over the grass, leaving the stadium behind.


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