It didn’t help that the Seattle Badgers had ruined the other team’s chances at the playoffs last year. Rockwell was out for blood.
Janus heard the whistle blow. He heard the crowd cheer. Touchdown! Apparently, the wide receiver had crossed the line, but Janus didn’t see it. All he could see was the two hundred and fifty pound man heading straight for him.
He ran backwards, trying to get out of the way, but the guy kept coming. More whistles. Out of the corner of his eye, Janus caught the flash of yellow that indicated that the referees had caught the foul. The referees were racing towards them. But momentum was on Rockwell’s side. Several of his teammates noticed what was happening, but they couldn’t move fast enough to help.
Everything happened within seconds, and yet, it felt as if the world was moving in slow motion.
Rockwell plowed into Janus, crushing him to the ground. Again, there was the sound of bones snapping and pain ripped through Janus. Normally, when he was tackled during a game, Janus knew how to twist his body to minimize body contact. In this case, the guy was out for blood! This time, Janus felt the pain slicing up his leg, the pain so deep, so intense, he couldn’t even scream. Yes, this…this tackle was different. The pain in his body was so intense, he couldn’t move.
Something was seriously wrong.
Suddenly, the crowd realized that two Seattle players were down. Coaches rushed onto the field, the team’s doctor right behind them. His teammates knelt as they realized how bad things were.
Coach Dean took one look at Janus and Tommy and called for paramedics. Because there was always an ambulance stationed outside of the stadium in case of spectator issues, the paramedics were nearby. They didn’t even hesitate as the ambulance drove out onto the field.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Janus tried to answer his coach’s questions, but the pain was overwhelming. Finally, the paramedics put him on a board and lifted him onto the gurney, his neck in a brace and…that was all he remembered. Blacking out from the pain, Janus accepted the oblivion that his body gave him.
“Stevie,” Janus groaned, drifting through the pain towards consciousness.
“You’re going to be okay,” a soft voice said. But it wasn’t Stevie’s voice. This voice told him to calm down. To hold still.
Janus didn’t want to hold still. He wanted to yell and roar with fury. That last play replayed behind his eyes. He forced his eyes open and found he was in a hospital room. There were machines beeping. White room. White walls, white ceiling, white everything. Was he in hell? Janus looked around, seeing the lights overhead and several doctors were in the corner, talking with Coach Dean.
“What’s going on?” Janus didn’t recognize his voice. It was scratchy, as if he’d chain-smoked two packs of cigarettes for the past twenty years.
Everyone from the corner turned to stare at him. Finally, it was Coach Dean who took the lead. Coming closer, the man’s eyes looked sad.
“What do you remember?” Dean asked.
Janus thought back. “I remember that ass Rockwell grabbing Tommy’s face mask. Is he okay?”
Coach Dean shook his head. “No. Tommy has a broken shoulder and two herniated disks in his neck. He’s out for…well, we don’t know how long.”
“What happened to Rockwell?”
Dean’s lips pressed together. “He was ejected from the game. The NFL will determine his eligibility to play, but if it was up to me, the guy wouldn’t ever be allowed in a stadium again, even if he bought a ticket.”
Janus nodded, relieved that he could move his neck. “What’s wrong with me?”
Dean turned, nodding to the doctor as if giving him permission to speak. Immediately, the doctor stepped forward, pulling a chart out from under his arm. “You were very lucky,” he began. “You have a broken leg, but it was a clean break and will heal without issue. You also have three broken ribs and one side of your body is badly bruised. The ribs were a concern as one of them almost punctured your lung, but the surgery went well. We were able to reposition the bones so that they will heal correctly.” He smiled, nodding as if he’d just said something amazing. “It’s going to take a while for your body to heal, but you’ll get there.”
Janus nodded, but he didn’t feel lucky. In fact, he was in a great deal of pain and wanted to pound Rockwell into sand.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Coach Dean said, chuckling softly. The doctor looked at the coach. “The team took care of Rockwell. He’ll be walking funny for a long time.”
Janus tried to shift, but the pain in his ribs was too intense so he stopped. “I’m surprised that his team didn’t protect him.”
Dean made a disgusted sound. “His teammates pretty much chucked him to the wolves. They are furious with Rockwell. From what I heard, he wasn’t even allowed on the plane back home. The head coach suggested that Rockwell find a commercial flight to get back to Miami.”
“Good. The ass deserves it.”
“I agree. I’m guessing he’ll be issued a massive fine by the league management. But after that, he’ll be discharged from the team. I doubt any other team will want him.” He shook his head in disgust. “That’s IF the league even allows him the option to become a free agent.”
“So…did we win?”
There was a stunned silence for a moment, and Coach Dean laughed. “Yeah, we won,” Dean grinned broadly. “That pass you threw was a beauty! An eighty-two yard pass right to Koontz, who waited for it on the five yard line, then he ran right into the end zone. I know that Plunket threw a ninety-nine yard pass back in eighty-three,” Coach continued with a laugh and an astounded shake of his head. “But you threw an eighty-two yard pass and it will definitely end up in the record books as one of the prettiest in NFL history.”
Janus smiled, but he didn’t feel like celebrating. He wanted all of these people to get the hell out of here and for a certain dark haired beauty with gorgeous brown eyes to walk in and kiss him until he felt better. Where was Stevie? Surely she’d heard about the game by now. It was probably all over the news. So even if she didn’t watch the games live, she would have heard about it and that two of the Seahawk players were out for the rest of the season.
“Is my phone around here somewhere?” he asked, scanning the room.
Coach Dean grabbed a bag that had been set on a chair. “Your stuff from Sunday is all in here. But if there’s anything else that you need, just let me know. The team is going to assign a personal assistant to help you through this time.” He pulled Janus’ phone out of a pocket, and handed it to him. “Here you go.”
Janus flipped through the apps until he came to the phone. No calls. No text messages. Nothing. Not a word from Stevie.
He had about five hundred texts and phone calls from others, but nothing from the one person he really wanted to talk to.
Why hadn’t she called him? Or texted? He’d thought that Stevie was different. Had he been so wrong about her? Had he completely misinterpreted her reactions?
Chapter 6
“Retiring?” A stunned reporter yelped, obviously horrified at even speaking the word. “But…you’re just at the peak of your career!”