“I’m not sure what’s going on between you and those three, but I’m not judging,” Ben teases.
“I’m fine. Tell me about how you guys plan to counter their defense. That’s where they’re strongest. It’s the only reason their offense works at all, because the defense doesn’t give up many yards,” I insist.
He talks about the plays they’ve been setting up based on the games they’ve seen and what they remember. Coach Carpenter is determined to bring in something new and apparently, Dimitri has a clear idea of how to ruin the defense, namely by mowing them down since Knox just won’t give up the ball once he has it. It doesn’t leave his hand.
The back and forth feels normal and calms me down. Because I have to prove to myself that I don’t constantly need the guys to stay sane. I can manage it myself.
KNOX
“I should be out there running plays with the other guys. The game is tomorrow and—”
“That can wait, Knox. Your old coach is missing and with the game coming up, I need you to be straight with me,” Carpenter says.
I lean back. I should have seen this coming.
Of course he’d expect this to affect the game.
It’s supposed to. Coach was my mentor for years. He saved me from the shit I was living with. I felt powerful, competent, like I wasn’t just a waste of space and punching bag when I was with him. He fixed things that I couldn’t and showed me that I had a future other than alcohol and cigarettes and fighting every day to get what I needed.
That doesn’t mean he wasn’t a shitbag pretending to be human.
I can’t forget what he did to Hope.
He deserved to die.
“I’ll play fine.”
“Look, being a coach is one thing, but I’veheardplenty about the man. He really… took an interest in his players. He was more than just a coach and if you or the guys—”
“We’ll play,” I say darkly. “It’s what he would want.”
Which hurts as much as it helps.
I can’t separate my emotions. I hate him. I still feel like I owe him. I loved him, saw him as the dad I wanted and the man I wanted to be, and did for years. How can I just… turn that off? Turn off knowing that the man I worshiped was a fucking monster and tried to make me one too?
Killing him should have been easy.
A hell of a lot easier than realizing the truth.
“Knox. Be straight with me. I’m not your counselor. I’m not your friend. Are you going to be able to show your best on the field tomorrow?” Carpenter asks.
I appreciate his lack of bullshit and the fact he doesn’t want to be more than my coach. So I nod. “Yeah. We’ll be good. We all knew Coach Harbaugh, but he’s just missing. He’ll turn up. Until we have answers, nothing changes and we’re going to make sure the team doesn’t suffer.”
Carpenter watches me for a long moment. “And Hope?”
“She’s… dealing,” I answer, not bothering to hide her wavering. She has to be sympathetic. “They were estranged, but it’s still news. And not the good time.”
“Yeah.” He nods once, then rubs his chin. “Anyway, run some plays with the guys. I’ll talk to Jaxon and Dimitri. I don’t want any surprises. We beat the Panthers and we’re guaranteed a shot at playoffs.”
“Loud and clear,” I reply.
It’s only when I’m heading down the hallway and out to the field to run drills that I realize I didn’t call CarpenterCoachonce. The title is ruined. The word still twists my gut with a mix of hope and a bitterness I can’t shake.
There will only be one “Coach” and he built me into the monster I was, the player I am, and until Hope showed who he really was, I believed he was a fucking saint. Now he’s rotting in the ground and it’s not enough… because I’m not the reason he’s dead.
I don’t know if I’ll ever kill that part of me that still wants to believe there was something worth saving in Coach. But I sure as hell won’t let one positive thing cross my lips. No matter who starts the conversation.
No matter what it means for me.
