Keeping Score

Prologue

I sat forward. I glanced down at the sheet twisted at my feet. My chest was covered in a cold sweat. A droplet slid along my abs. I wiped my brow. What the hell happened?

I wasn’t sure what time it was. The drapes were drawn together in the loft. I checked my phone. It wasn’t even six.

I grabbed the glass of water next to the bed and gulped until I could see the bottom of the cup, while my pulse raced. Even a deep exhale didn’t stop it from thumping loudly in my ear. I tried to simultaneously forget and remember the nightmare. It wasn’t as if it was the first time it happened.

I was going to be haunted by my past the rest of my life. At least that’s what I believed. The recurring nightmares proved it. Not that I was going to tell anyway or see a shrink to get rid of them. I fought through them the way I thought a man was supposed to. I knew it was fucking stupid. But I wasn’t the kind of man who shared his feelings. I wasn’t the kind of man who asked for help.

That’s not what leaders did.

I pushed off my bed and walked to the bathroom. My beard was starting to grow in. I ran my palm over the rough stubble.

It was game day. I had to forget the dream and get focused. I needed my head to be clear before I took the field.

If I was going to lock that nightmare away I needed to Kane Hawkins today. The Kane Hawkins. The man who was going to take the Sharks all the way to the championship.

I splashed my face with water, and reached for the expensive shaving cream, letting it foam rich and creamy in my hands. I picked up the razor and began to smooth away the five o’clock shadow.

One

Kane

It was seventeen to thirteen and we had the ball. Bottom of the fourth quarter, with less than a minute left on the clock and zero time outs remaining.

That was my moment. The moment I lived for. The moment I always played for.

Coach called for a screenplay and we lined left. The lineman across from me lifted his head and pointed directly at me. Mistake. I knew he was coming for me.

I glanced at Aaron on my right and then Joe on my left. They both nodded, letting me know they had my back. No one would get through them. They guarded the pocket as if their lives depended on it. Hell, in our world that was true. Every time we took the field we risked everything. We gave up the best of what we had to offer.

“Down set. Hut one. Hut two. Hike,” I called.

I caught the ball as the center spiked it backwards between his legs. I took a step back and tapped the ball searching, the field for an open player. I scanned from one side to the other.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

No one was open.

Some people panicked in moments like that, but not me.

The adrenaline pumped through my veins and I saw the field with perfect clarity. Every one of my teammates was covered. Two guys barreled down on me fast from the right as my head jerked the opposite way. That’s when my focus was the sharpest. When I could see what no one else could. The tiniest opening just to my left and ahead about three yards.

I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t afford to second-guess my gut. Ever.

My feet kicked into gear, racing against time. Against the defense. Against the clock. I squeezed through the sliver of space and then swerved to the right, avoiding the arms of a grizzly linebacker. I could see the end zone ahead. The goal post beckoning me like a lover’s arms. I didn’t care that she was a fickle lover.

Ten yards to go.

Five.

Two.

I crossed the chalk line, hurling my body forward. The stadium erupted. I was pretty damn sure they chanted my name after that touchdown.

The team rushed the field and somewhere one of the guys poured a jug of Gatorade over the coach’s head in fun. I’m clapped on the shoulder and smacked on the ass so many times I lost count as we made our way to the locker room.

We were one game closer to playoffs.

“Hell of a game, Hawkins. Hell of a game.”

I nodded at Coach as he veered off toward the administrative offices. I ducked into the locker room, knowing it would be a fucking circus inside.

This was where the real party began.

It was already out of control. Beer cans cracked open. The music blasted.

I was in fucking heaven.

“You going out with us?” Joe asked, slapping a towel toward me.

“Yeah, Kane. You going?”