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Authors: Samantha Kane

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BOOK: Broken Play
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Chapter 7

Cass took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was pacing in the back of the conference room. They were five minutes away from a conference call with Danny Smith. The coaching staff had had to jump through hoops to get this much out of the asshole. Cass shook his head. Not asshole. Player. He was just a player having issues. Cass ran his hands through his hair and wished he could keep his cowboy hat on inside. He felt damn near naked without it. He rubbed the top of his head. And he might be losing his hair. Too many years in a football helmet. And when had he turned into some vain man-candy kind of guy?

He glanced over at Beau, who was sitting on the couch in the corner flipping through last year's
Sports Illustrated
NFL Preview. The Rebels had earned two paragraphs.
Two.
He took another deep breath. Marian didn't understand what this meant to him. He had a huge stake in the Rebels' success. He'd walked away from a nice fat contract with the Raiders to come to Birmingham based on promises of a high-level front-office position when he retired in a few years. He was aiming for general manager eventually. It was on his advice they'd signed Smith. If he didn't show, Cass's future with the Rebels was at stake.

He stole a look at the table. Head coach Shannon Ludwig was scrolling through something on his tablet, a frown on his face. Who the hell knew what he'd found on there. Marian was sitting on his left, leafing through a file. God knew what she had in there. Hopefully they'd both found some dirt on Smith to blackmail him into coming.

Marian had been avoiding him since yesterday morning. Beau kept sneaking glances at her over the top of his
Sports Illustrated,
but she was avoiding him, too. Which was making Beau sad, which made Cass feel even worse for taking his anger at Smith out on Marian. She was probably one of the few people on earth who would yell back at him when he was mad. She looked up and caught him smiling at her and she frowned back before looking away.

Mike Richards hustled in. “Okay, everyone ready? Marian, make the call.”

“I'll dial. Shannon, you talk,” she said. “I don't think he wants to speak to assistant coaches.” She stared at the phone while she said it, as if it were a crystal ball and would reveal the future. Cass looked over at Beau. She was acting very strange.

“Smith here.” Cass rolled his eyes at the way he answered the phone. He even sounded like a dickhead.

“Danny, how are you? Shannon Ludwig from the Rebels here.”

“Shannon.” Smith didn't say anything else. He just sat there mouth breathing into the phone.

“I've got Cass Zielinski here, too, Danny,” Shannon said. “I thought you might like to talk to one of the players, get a feel for the team from him.”

“So talk.”

Cass clenched his hands into fists and took another deep breath before speaking. “Hey, Danny. How are you?”

“Thinking about retirement. And so should you. You're older than I am, man.”

That did it. “Look, Smith. I'm going to cut to the chase.” Mike was frantically slicing his hand across his throat, and Cass knew he wanted him to play nice. Fuck that. “We both know why you were traded to the Rebels. You might be a future Hall of Fame player, but you're probably the most hated guy in football. Not just by the fans, but by the players and the coaches. No one wants to play with you. You are notoriously hard to work with. Fights with team members, fines, suspensions. This is your last chance.”

“What the fuck?” Smith yelled into the phone. “Fuck you, man. I don't need this shit.”

“Don't hang up,” Cass ordered him. “This is your last chance. It's my last chance. Hell, every guy on this team has one last chance, and it's here in Birmingham. No one else wants us. This is our last stop before the NFL kicks our asses to the curb. Hell, the whole world knows it. No one wants any of us, Danny. Just the Rebels. This is the last-chance saloon for every damn man on this team. If we don't make it here, we don't make it anywhere. And I'm ready to throw that in their faces. Aren't you? I want to show them we're not going quietly. We can make something happen here, Danny. We can build this franchise into a contender. You know it and I know it, and goddammit, I want the NFL to know it. I'm not going to lie, Danny. We need you. I need you to help me make this team work.” By the time he was done talking he was leaning on the table talking directly into the speaker like he was whispering in Danny Smith's ear. “Don't let me down, man.”

—

Marian listened to Cass's impassioned speech. When he called the Rebels the last-chance saloon, Beau rolled his eyes and the others grinned, but it rang true for Marian. She knew the team now, knew what each player was going through and why they were here. And Cass was right. For so many of them, this was it, their last chance to live the dream, to play the game they loved. It was her last chance, too. She was irrationally touched by his silly nickname for the team.

“Do you think I give a shit about anyone on that team?” Danny said over the phone with an audible sneer. “You're a bunch of losers, you said it yourself. Why would I want to tie myself to a Rebels car wreck?” He laughed and it sounded harsh and bitter. Marian flinched. This wasn't the Danny she knew. Did anyone know that Danny now except her? “Go ahead and fine me. Do what you gotta do,” Danny went on. “I'm not coming there for mini-camp, or the season. I'm cutting my losses and I'm out of here.”

“Don't think we won't fine you, Smith,” Shannon said, and Marian had never heard the head coach sound so cold and angry. “You have legal obligations and you'll either fulfill them or you'll pay the price. Your call. I'm only going to say this once. Like Cass said, this is your last chance, with me and with this team. We'd like you here. We'd like to play some ball with you. I think you'd be a great addition to this team, a team that has potential, that's coming together at last. We're building something great here and you could be an integral part of it. All that's happened and all that's been said would be put behind us and we can go forward from here. Think carefully before you answer.”

“I don't have to think carefully. Every fool knows that Birmingham is the end of the road. You get sent there to die. The end. Career over. Why put myself through that? I can end it right here, without the humiliation of a losing season in the asshole of the NFL.”

“Fuck you,” Cass snarled at the phone. “I tried to play nice, but fuck that. We don't need you here and we don't want you. So do us all a favor and stay away. Shit, I'll pay your fucking fine just to keep you away.”

“Cass,” Marian said, shock forcing his name from her in a knee-jerk reaction. She looked over at Beau, who had tossed aside his
Sports Illustrated
and was carefully following the conversation. He met her gaze and just shook his head with a frown. What did that mean? He wasn't going to interfere?

“Who is that?” Danny demanded over the phone. Beau's gaze drilled into her, and Marian turned away, only to meet a searching look from Cass, and she could tell he knew then. He knew something was up.

“No one,” Cass answered quickly. “Or rather, someone you don't even need to know because you, asshole, are never going to be down here playing ball.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” Danny said sarcastically. “Building something down there, my ass. You're building a big fat pile of nothing. Word is you've got a limited amount of time to make that franchise work, and you're sinking fast. Don't expect me to come down there and pull your sorry asses out of the water. I'm too fucking good to play with a bunch of losers for an unproven, questionable coach on a team that has zero chance of making the play-offs for the foreseeable future.”

Marian was horrified. This whole conversation had gone south so fast she hadn't even had time to come up with a plan to break it to Danny she was down here. She'd been hoping he'd come around on this phone call and then later, privately, she could call him and tell him. But he was digging himself a hole here with the Rebels that he'd never be able to crawl out of if he kept it up. And she could see the anger and hatred on Cass's face, and Shannon's and Mike's. They didn't know him, they didn't know Danny like she did. If they did, they'd never talk to him like this.

Danny's anger over the phone shocked her. He never spoke to her like that. His bitterness was practically melting the speaker. Why? This whole business wasn't like him. He'd changed after he saved her. Her father had silenced him, too, and threatened his career. But Danny's silence had a heavy price. He'd lost respect for himself and the men he played with. She'd hoped time would heal his wounds, as it mostly had hers, but it obviously hadn't. Birmingham was his last chance to let go of his hatred and guilt and play the game he loved. Danny didn't know it yet, but the Rebels were going to heal him. Hating what she heard in his voice, and the anger and resentment toward a man she loved that was growing in her new Rebels family, she swallowed, took a deep breath, and said, “Hello, Danny. It's Marian.” “Marian?” Smith said, sounding shocked and confused and angry. “What the hell are you doing there?”

Cass jerked his gaze up to Marian but she wouldn't meet his eyes again. The entire room was suddenly, ominously quiet. What the fuck? How did she know Danny Smith? And why hadn't she said anything before?

“I'm the new assistant offensive coach for the Rebels,” Marian said matter-of-factly. “I didn't want to influence your decision, so I didn't tell you.”

“Bullshit.” Smith sounded good and pissed. But he wasn't nearly as pissed as Cass. “You didn't tell me because you knew I wouldn't let you go.”

Marian looked only mildly annoyed at his proprietary tone. “You couldn't have stopped me. You know that. This is where I want to be.”

“Damn right, he couldn't have stopped you,” Cass said angrily. Mike reached over and gripped his arm hard, trying to shut him up. But it was Marian's next words that did the trick.

“I want to see you, Danny,” she said softly. “Come to Birmingham.”

“I'm on the next plane,” Smith said, and Cass's heart sank.

Chapter 8

“Care to enlighten us?” Shannon asked Marian. Beau was still reeling from finding out Marian knew Danny Smith. Intimately, it would seem. He was torn between demanding answers from Marian and pinning Cass down before he went ballistic.

“Danny and I were close friends in college,” Marian said, a little too casually—as if she'd rehearsed it. “We've kept in touch, that's all. Like I told him, I didn't want to influence his decision by telling him I was here.” She met the eyes of each man in the room, but when she looked at Beau and Cass she sort of skimmed past them quickly. She looked guilty. “I didn't want you to try and make me influence him, either.”

“I hope you know that we would never ask you to use your personal associations in any way that would make you uncomfortable,” Shannon told her stiffly. “But a heads-up before the phone conversation would have been nice.”

Marian sighed and sat down next to Shannon. She looked pretty dejected. “I'm sorry, Shannon. I've known people in football who have the ethics of an alley cat. I'm sorry I painted you with the same brush. You're right, I do know better.”

Shannon leaned over and put his hand on her arm. “Hey, it's forgotten. But now I'm going to use your knowledge of Danny Smith. Based on what you know of him, is he coming down here to play football, or to rescue you from this big, fat pile of nothing?”

Marian barely cracked a smile at the echo of Smith's words. “A little of both, probably,” she admitted. “He's coming to my rescue because it's a knee-jerk reaction. He's had to do that in the past.” She looked away, off into the corner, and she looked so bleak that Beau was uneasy. What the hell had Danny Smith had to rescue her from? She turned back to Shannon. “But once he gets here, he'll play football. You guys were right. Getting him to Birmingham was the biggest challenge.”

Shannon nodded and stood up. “All right, then. Judging from the conversation, he'll be here by tomorrow. So we've got some planning to do. Marian, because of your friendship, I'll put you in charge of finding him someplace to stay. With one of the other players, preferably. The sooner he gets pulled into the Rebels circle the better. Come on, Mike. I want to make a couple of changes to the playbook.”

Mike looked from Marian, to Cass, to Beau. Beau nodded at him, hoping he understood that Beau would keep things under control, because anyone could see that Cass was hopping mad.

As soon as the door closed, Cass attacked. “You know Danny Smith?” he asked. “More than just know him, apparently.” Marian frowned down at the table, but still didn't look at Cass. “You have the power to silence one of the meanest assholes in the NFL and have him on a plane with little more than a hello. And you didn't say a word, not to me or Beau or anyone else.” Marian didn't answer. She just shuffled her papers into a neat pile with jerky hand motions and then shoved them into the folder.

“Cass, don't,” Beau warned him. “This isn't the time or the place.”

Cass didn't take the advice. “Were you two lovers? Are you still? Is that why the hands-off rule? If not, is Smith hoping to rekindle that?” Cass laughed harshly. “Hell, are you hoping to rekindle that? Is that why he changed his tune and was suddenly so eager to come to Birmingham? I want to see you,” he said mockingly. “Come to Birmingham.”

Marian looked up then and glared at Cass. “I think you've said enough,” she told him angrily. “My personal life is none of your business. Past lovers, old friends, new acquaintances—none of it is any of your business.” She stalked over to the door and stopped in front of Beau. He hadn't realized he was blocking the door until she glared up at him.

“I'm making it my business,” Cass told her as he angrily followed her. Without a word, Beau took a step to the side so Marian could pass. He caught Cass's arm and jerked him back away from her. For just one brief moment she looked broken, her eyes glistening with tears as she watched them. Then she looked away and stormed through the door.

Cass tried to follow, but Beau slammed him back against the wall, which earned him a growl and a punch to the shoulder. “Stop it,” he barked at Cass. “You're acting like a jealous asshole.”

“I am a jealous asshole,” Cass told him, pushing him away. “I want to know what's going on with her and Smith.”

“We have no claim on her, man,” Beau told him, the truth of it hitting him hard. “We're just friends, remember? Let me go see her. I'll talk to her and make sure she's okay. She was pretty upset when she tore out of here.”

Beau hoped Cass would accept his offer with good grace. He could see the disaster ahead if he let Cass confront Marian again. Cass was not good with words, and he definitely sucked at “I'm sorry.” A few weeks ago, Beau might have let him go, and encouraged the implosion of the thing happening between them. But he knew how much Cass cared for her already. He didn't have the right to come between them, despite his feelings for Cass and his growing feelings for Marian. He loved Cass too much to watch him drive her away just because he couldn't turn off his demanding, controlling nature. Marian didn't realize yet that Cass's rough demeanor hid a heart of gold, a man who wouldn't just give you the shirt off his back, but the back beneath it and the heart it protected, if that was what you needed. And it was becoming clearer every day that Marian needed so much. Even Beau could see that. She tugged at him, too, which still surprised him. He hadn't wanted anyone but Cass for so long he'd forgotten how good it felt.

Cass ran his hands through his hair in obvious frustration. “I know that's the smart thing to do, but it's damn hard to stay away when I want to demand answers right now.” He let his arms drop with an impatient, blown-out breath. “You know I'm no good at this shit.”

“No shit,” Beau said with a smile. “That's why God made me.”

—

Marian had her elbows on her desk, her forehead resting on her hands. There was no one to see, she was alone in her office, so she let her despair show. Danny would be here soon, and he was pissed. He would not be discreet. Chances were he would go charging through the building threatening every man in sight if they so much as looked cross-eyed at her. That would go over well with Cass.
Not.

But even worse, he'd tell. He'd tell them all what happened, and she'd have to go through it again. He wouldn't mean to do it, to ruin everything for her. He'd think he was doing it for her own good, that he was protecting her. But she'd look weak and broken to the team. Or they'd think she was a slut who asked for it. She got that a lot in the first few months after it happened, especially from her father.

She sat back, slumped in her expensive office chair. She might as well have been sitting on nails for all the comfort she found there.

There was no chance with Cass and Beau now. She'd lied to them. Cass had been worried sick over the whole Danny thing and she'd kept her mouth closed. He'd see it as a betrayal. Who wouldn't? And Beau would follow Cass, not because he couldn't make his own decisions, but because he loved Cass. Everyone but Cass knew it. She knew it. So why was she even thinking about getting involved with them? Which she wasn't. It wasn't even an option now. But it would have been nice if it was an option. Not that she'd go there again.

She'd always wanted more than one man. It had made her feel guilty, dirty, even messed up in the head over the years. She'd ignored her desires and pretended to be satisfied with a long string of boyfriends. But it was never enough. When she'd started dating Darren in college, she thought she'd found someone who shared her desires, who would give her what she wanted because he wanted it, too. But he didn't want what she wanted; he didn't want a third in their relationship. He wanted a slutty piece of ass who would fuck all his friends when they were drunk and horny. When she hadn't complied, it had turned ugly. She could feel a cold sweat bathe her back and trickle between her breasts as she remembered that night in the college locker room almost ten years ago. She was proud of the fact that it took four of them to hold her down, and a solid punch to the jaw to shut her up. She hadn't given in or given up. And Danny had come. He'd heard her shouts and he'd come and he'd made them let her go. She would love him forever for that. Because of him, she hadn't been horrifically violated. But she'd been frightened and betrayed and used, and it took a long time to get over that.

Was she ready to risk herself like that again with Cass and Beau? In her heart, she knew they weren't like Darren at all. But there was still that frightened girl inside her, frantically shaking her head and backing away from them.

There was a knock on her office door. She sighed. Life and work went on. “Come in,” she called out. When Beau walked in, she was surprised. She knew it wasn't Cass. He wouldn't have knocked. But Beau was just as unexpected for different reasons.

“Can I come in?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded, forcing a fake smile. Words suddenly seemed impossible. She bit her lip and blinked away tears. Beau looked so damn sweet and contrite. And gorgeous. He could have been hers. For a little while, anyway. He came in and closed the door behind him. Then he leaned against it and opened his arms.

She wasn't sure how he knew she needed a hug, and she didn't care. Her emotions were dangerously close to the surface. She pushed back her office chair and just walked across to him and right into his embrace.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Beau said quietly, rubbing her back gently. He couldn't have been sweeter or more understanding. His hold on her was comforting, rather than amorous. He wasn't taking advantage, or using the opportunity to grope her. He was being a friend.

She didn't want a friend.

She shook her head and looked up at him. His brown eyes, full of light-gold flecks, held nothing but concern. But as she slid her hand up his chest and wrapped her arm around his neck, she could see understanding dawn in those pretty eyes. He blinked slowly, his long lashes fanning across his sharp cheekbones, and when his eyes were unveiled again there was a heat there that lit a fire inside her.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his gaze straying to her lips. She licked them, a knee-jerk reaction that made him suck in an unsteady breath.

“Yes, I'm sure,” she whispered, and in that moment she was. As crazy as it was, she was sure she needed Beau's mouth on hers more than anything else. He was the anchor she sought as her world spun out of control again.

BOOK: Broken Play
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