Broken Play Read Online Free Page A

little ornery today?”
    “A little,” Beau said. “Take advantage. Ask me anything.”
    Litchfield waved a hand at the cameraman, who aimed his lens at Beau, the green light on. “Last year the Rebels had a less than stellar season. Can you diagnose the issues last year, and give us an idea of what the Rebels are doing this year to fix the team, particularly the offensive weakness on the outside and the lack of solid defense in the secondary?”
    Bam. Litchfield was putting him on the spot, and he thought Beau would fail. Fuck him. “Sure, Stan. We sucked last year in the running game. Truth. So we’ve picked up some great running backs in Danny Smith and Tom Kelly, a rookie out of Nebraska that everyone else was too busy kissing ass to notice. As for the secondary, I’ve never seen Michael Swan running as fast as he is this year. Rasheed Davis moved into the strong safety position and his leadership on the secondary is obvious, even this early in the game. They are going to be a force this season.”
    Marian was beaming as if he’d taken his first steps under her watchful eye. Beau grinned at her. Litchfield looked a lot less bored.
    “We all know Swan can run,” Litchfield agreed. “Let’s get back to Danny Smith. He’s not here. Why?”
    “You want the party line?” Beau asked. Marian frowned again, and may even have gnashed her teeth a little. He ignored her.
    Litchfield grinned. “Nope. I want the truth.”
    “The truth is, I don’t know.” Beau paused and Litchfield looked unhappy. “But he better get his ass down here.” Marian threw her hands in the air in disbelief behind the reporter. “I know from experience that you don’t want to fuck up your team’s confidence in you,” he went on, glad to finally be speaking his mind. “You don’t come back from that. And the longer Smith delays, the more the team questions his dedication here. We don’t need players who are going through the motions to earn endorsement deals. We need guys who are ready to play, who are passionate about the game, who want to be here, and who want to win. I don’t give a fuck how great a player he is. If he doesn’t stop acting like a fucking prima donna, he can kiss the Rebels goodbye, because we don’t want him.”
    Around him, most of the other players and reporters had gone silent. Cass had walked over to stand slightly off to his side, as if to protect him, but he didn’t need protection. He was over that.
    “I see,” Litchfield said. He glanced around. “Do you speak for the team?”
    Beau grinned. “Hell, no. Do you think they’d give me that kind of power? But I do speak for myself, and a few others here. This is the Rebels, Stan. Let’s not dance around it. This is the last stop, the last-chance saloon, as Cass calls it.” He glanced at Cass, who was grinning. “If we don’t make it here, we don’t make it anywhere. We’re the redheaded stepchild of the NFL. The place trouble goes to either fade away or break out. I’m sick of fading away. I think this is the year we break out.” Around him there was a chorus of cheers from the other players. “So, how about this for a sound bite?” He turned to the camera and pointed at it. “You better watch out, cause the Rebels are bringing trouble right to your fucking door.” He saluted and turned away to face Marian. She was just staring at him in shock. “Sorry,” he mouthed, giving her a half smile. He took a deep breath and walked through the crowd, done for the day. A few of the players slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a fist bump. He wasn’t sure if he’d just made his career in Birmingham, or ended it.
    —
    “Get. In. Here.” Marian spoke in that one-word-sentence staccato that had become so popular on television and that she’d sworn she’d never imitate. Now she knew it wasn’t a choice. She was simply so mad she couldn’t get more than one word out at a time. Beau didn’t argue. He simply slid sideways in through her