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Bradford Brawler (Bradford Bastard 2)

Page 77

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This is my fucking home, my field, and he won’t be walking away unscathed. My team has got my back, and they’ll make sure Colby Jacobs gets his ass handed to him. No college will want him when we’re through. Though, it shouldn’t matter. His ass is going nowhere but the slammer.

Addie has been out of her coma for close to two weeks now, and while she’s doing well and getting stronger every day, she’s still suffering. The cops haven’t done their part in arresting Colby, and I can’t help but wonder if a big part of that is due to Orlando Channing. Because of that, Addie spends her days living in fear. She rarely leaves the house, terrified that Colby will come looking for her, and when she does find the strength to leave, it’s never alone.

Hudson has been hanging out more, and while he’s been playing on this ruse of coming over to see me, he’s been spending every minute of his time with Addie. As much as I want to beat his ass for it, the fucker has been putting a smile on her face and respecting her boundaries. There’s nothing romantic about it. He said he was there to be her friend, someone to lean on while she heals, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. I can’t fault him, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t kick his ass the second I get a chance.

There’s no denying it though, the look in Hudson’s eyes is just as vile as mine. This motherfucker is all in, and the second the final whistle blows, he’ll be right by my side with our boys at our backs. We’ve been waiting for this moment since the second Coach told us we were going up against Hope Falls. Don’t get me wrong, I was hoping Colby would have been arrested and charged by now, but if the fucker is dumb enough to show up on my field, then by all means, he’ll be getting his ass handed to him.

The buzzer sounds, and with an almighty cheer from the crowd, both teams make their way onto the field, more than ready to get this shit over and done with.

“Morgan,” Coach calls after me. I turn back to find his stare locked on mine. “I’m not fucking around with you, head in the game.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Jogging out onto the field, I catch Hudson’s stare as he nods and Logan moves in beside me. “You good, bro?” he questions, glancing across the field to where Colby moves into position, his stare already locked on mine. “I don’t know what Hope Falls is doing. They should have suspended him during the investigation. I bet they’re not even doing an internal investigation.”

“Hope Falls is nothing but a bunch of dirty pricks, you know that,” I comment, stopping as I reach where I need to be. “But Colby is their best player. They’re not giving that up for anything, which is why we need to prove that he’s nothing but shit under my shoe, you feel me?”

Logan moves past me. “I feel you, and then after the game …”

I nod, confirming what he already knows. “After the game.”

Not a moment later, everyone is in position and with the sound of the buzzer, the game starts with Bradford immediately pushing through on the attack. We race ahead, each of my teammates looking sharp as Hope Falls comes in with dirty tackles, only just legal enough to keep them from being penalized.

I’m not going to lie, we’re barely thirty seconds in and the game is already messy.

This is going to be a shitshow.

The ball moves seamlessly from player to player, and I keep my eye on it, doing everything I can to not think about the way Addison screamed for help or the bruises he left on her skin. Even though we're playing by the book, the Hope Falls assholes aren’t easing up on their dirty tackles. My boys are getting screwed over, and all it’s doing is pissing me off.

Jax takes off with the ball, sprinting forward into their defense. He dodges two guys, weaving like a fucking pro, and as Riley moves into position, Jax hands the ball off to him with a perfect pass. He gets another few steps when a big fucker slams into Jax, taking him down with a brutal blow, despite being clear of the ball.

The crowd roars in protest as Jax pushes the asshole off him and the whistle blows. Jax gets to his feet and shoves the guy hard. “What the fuck?” he spits as Logan darts between them and shoulder charges Jax, pushing him back a step. He grabs Jax’s helmet and shoves his right up against it before saying something that has Jax finding control.

The asshole who tackled him gets nothing but a slap on the wrist, and as he turns to get back into position, I notice the name Hargrove written across the back of his jersey.


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