by Christi Snow
“Surprisingly well, all things considered. Have a seat before you fall down. Shanae went in search of coffee and will be back in a little bit. Have you been in to see Ridge yet?”
Ridge had been upgraded in condition during the night and had been moved to the room next door to Mudflap’s.
“No, I wanted to see you first. Are they letting you out today?”
“Yeah, I’m just waiting on some paperwork. Congratulations. I haven’t heard any of the details about the game, but I heard you all won.”
TC rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, this team is amazing. They’re reeling from everything, but they rallied at the end, not willing to give up on this dream. They’re fighters. They won this game for you, Ridge, and Coach Allred.”
“You have a good team, but you’re a good coach, too. It couldn’t have been easy to get on those buses and leave yesterday, for any of you. But you did it and then you all won. This team has the heart and talent to win the National Championship. You’re so close.”
TC looked overwhelmed with it all, so Mudflap sat up and gingerly swung his legs off the edge of the bed. “Come on. I haven’t gotten to see the kid yet. Think you can act as my spotter to make sure I don’t take a header? We can go tell him the good news if he hasn’t heard about the win yet.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Mudflap’s head still pounded, but the good news was the vertigo wasn’t as bad today as it had been through the night. He was starting to feel like he really could leave the hospital today. They shuffled into the doorway of Ridge’s room where they found a lone nurse.
She glanced up at them as she bustled around the room. “Hello, Coach Davidson. Good game yesterday. Are you here to see Ridge?” At TC’s nod, she said, “He’s gone down for some tests.” She pulled a chair over for Mudflap. “I think it would be fine for you to sit here and wait for him. They should be back soon. He’s gonna be glad to see you. You have an amazing player here, Coach. All he wanted to know when he woke up was how Tech did last night.”
Both men chuckled. It definitely wasn’t a surprise to them that Ridge would have that kind of attitude, even with as much pain as he had to be in from the explosion. He was the kind of player every coach wanted— enthusiastic, positive, and a pure joy to have on the team.
After she left, Mudflap sat down in the chair, moaning as his body protested the rough treatment of the last twenty-four hours.
TC eyed him critically. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s just sore.”
TC glanced back out the window. “Are we doing the right thing here? It was a miracle no one was killed yesterday. How can we continue to play football and put these kids at risk? How can a football game be worth any of their lives?” TC’s voice lowered and broke with emotion. “It’s not. I can’t put them at risk like this anymore.”
“You can’t, Coach.” Ridge’s pained exclamation ripped out of his chest as the nurse rolled his bed into the room. The kid looked fierce with his bruised and swollen face, grimacing. “If you quit, they win. We can’t let the terrorists win. That’s what they want and that’s not what Tech football is about. If you quit, then you give up everything we’ve worked for all year. How can you even consider that? How could you do that to the team?”
“Ridge, you don’t understand.” TC looked to Ridge’s parents, standing beside his bed watching the drama play out. “Someone is trying to hurt us, you kids playing out there on that field. I couldn’t stand it if I had to turn around and tell any kid’s parents they died for a game and in the end, that’s all it is, Ridge. A game.”
“No, it’s not, not to us. To us, it’s about pride and legacy.” The kid swallowed hard as he glanced out the window, trying to gain control of his overwrought emotions.
He turned back to them, his expression calmer. “Tech football is about rooting for the team who usually doesn’t win, but you know what? Our fans stand by us, regardless. How can you even think about abandoning those fans when we finally have the chance to go all the way?”
Ridge closed his eyes for a moment, grimacing in pain. “You keep referring to us as kids, but every player out there is a man. Treat them with the respect they deserve, the respect they’ve earned. Give it to the team. Let them make the adult decision if that helps you sleep at night, but don’t you take this from them. You can’t take this from the team or the fans. And you sure as hell can’t let those crazy-assed terrorists win. That is not what Tech football is about.”
TC’s head dropped to his chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ridge. It just kills me to see you here like this. You didn’t sign up for this kind of thing when you decided to go out and play football every weekend. But the team needs to know exactly what’s going on so they can decide whether to go on or not. I’m not going to put them at risk anymore without them knowing every single thing about what’s involved.”
Ridge’s breath sawed in and out, his eyes glittering with emotion and pain. He gave a sharp nod and then slumped back in bed, shutting his eyes in exhaustion.
TC turned to Ridge’s parents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him and I’m so sorry about what happened to him.”
Ridge’s mother rested a hand on TC’s upper arm. “It’s okay. We don’t blame you for this and you don’t need to blame yourself either. He’s right. You can’t let the terrorists win. Go out there and take this team to win the championship. That will make this,” she waved her hand over the hospital room and her wounded son, “so much easier.”
* * *
Monday morning, Mudflap lay in his bed at home, listening to the radio. He wasn’t cleared to go back to work until Thursday, so this morning he’d sent Shanae and TC off and crawled back into bed. His head still ached so he just laid there, letting the country music and the KLLL morning show flow over him. It was easier than trying to focus and look at anything.
Besides, he was curious to hear how Lubbock viewed the car bombing at the training center over the weekend.
Jeff, the morning show personality, did the lead-in. “And we know you’ve all heard the news by now about the car bomb at the training center while the Texas Tech football team was getting ready to leave for the big game against Texas.”
“It was a miracle that only two people were hurt, but it brings to question. Why in the world would someone want to attack the football team? I know that football is a big deal in Texas, but come on…” Kelli, the other dj, added.
“Agreed. All our thoughts and prayers go out to the player and team assistant that were hurt. We wish them a speedy recovery. But now we want to give you your chance to chime in. What’s your take on the bombing this weekend? Call KLLL and share your thoughts.”
They went to a song and Mudflap began to doze off. Damn, his head hurt. When they began talking again, he roused, working to focus on what they were saying.
“We have a caller on the line who says he has some insider information about the car bombing. Walter, are you there?”
“I’m here.” A gruff voice came across the lines. “These kids think football is all-important. It’s just a distraction. What they don’t realize is that there’s a higher power out there that’s going to rule. Justice will be found for those that deserve it. Liberation is the key. Domination from within is the only way.”
“O…kay.” The radio personality gave a nervous laugh. “Thanks for your input, Walter. That was an interesting take on it.”
“Yeah,” Kelli chimed in, “the weekend took its toll on everyone didn’t it? Wow!”
Mudflap turned off the radio and rubbed at his temples. Something that guy said pinged at him as important. What was it? Something about that phrasing— justice, liberation, domination.
His head hurt too much to think clearly. Maybe after a nap, his brain wouldn’t feel so scrambled and he’d be able to think clearly again.
Shanae
TC started out the Monday practice with a huge team meeting. He let the players know exa
ctly what was going on with the threats, the attacks, the intel. Everything he could, he told them and then he told them a little bit more. Shanae shook her head mentally. She liked TC. He just wanted these kids to be protected, above everything else, even if it got him into trouble.
He’d discussed his plan with Mudflap this morning over breakfast when she’d been there. The two brothers decided to buck the government orders, thinking the more the team knew, the more likely they would be to thwart whoever was messing with them. She’d just pretended to be deaf and blind while they discussed it. She didn’t know anything about what TC planned to tell the team…that was her story and she was sticking to it.
Mudflap…she was worried about him. She knew as a nurse that a headache could linger for days after a concussion, but he was in a lot of pain. She planned to sneak back over to his house during her lunch break to check on him. It didn’t seem right to leave him there all day alone, especially when they seemed no closer to catching whoever was doing all this.
She didn’t think he was in danger, but until they figured this all out, she planned to be on high alert. He’d been shot at before.
Which brought her back to what exactly was going on here. She’d visited the explosion site this morning even though the team was temporarily relocated to one of the high school practice fields this week. The construction crew was working round the clock to ensure the team could be back in their training facility by the end of the week and the final conference game against Kansas State that weekend.
She found the construction foreman and asked him about the coin, knowing the odds of finding it in the rubble were slim. But for once, she lucked out. They had found the coin the evening before and it had been unusual enough that he slid it into a plastic baggie to turn over to the crime scene investigators. She was able to sweet talk him out of it and now had it in her pocket. She planned to compare it to the coin Mudflap had from Grant to see if she could come up with any clues.
Three hours later, she let herself into Mudflap’s house with the key he’d given her. She didn’t want to ring the doorbell in case he was asleep. But when she peeked into his room to check on him, he was sitting on his bed with a shoebox full of paperwork spread out all over his bed. Watching him for a moment, she lingered across the bruises on his gorgeously defined bare chest, but it was the dark circles under his eyes which concerned her. He still had a headache. Whatever he was doing with all that paperwork couldn’t be helping the state of his head.
He must have sensed her or smelled the bag-full of food in her hand, because he suddenly glanced up at her with an alarmed look in his eye. It immediately eased into a slow smile when he saw it was just her.
“Hey, you. I brought some lunch if you feel up to eating a sub sandwich.”
“That sounds great. Let me just put a shirt on.”
She took a moment more to ogle his bare chest as he extracted himself from the paperwork on the bed. Even with the bruises visible there, her mouth went dry as she watched the play of his muscles as they flexed and contracted across his tight stomach. “Don’t put one on for me. I’m good,” like really, really good, “with you just like that.”
He smirked at her and it was nice to see some light in his eyes instead of pain, as he sauntered toward the doorway where she stood. Reaching down, he grabbed her by her waist and pulled her flush up against that hard chest. He kissed her passionately and suddenly she didn’t care at all about eating anymore. Her panties moistened as his tongue invaded her mouth, claiming her. She threaded her fingers around the back of his head.
Yanking away, he hissed.
“Damn, I’m sorry. I forgot all about your head.”
His eyes shut as he leaned his head on top of hers. “It’s okay. You distracted me from the drummers in there for a moment, but now,” he thrust his erection against her pelvis, “I’m throbbing in other places instead. Wanna take care of that for me?” He leered at her.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your doctor tell you to take it easy for a few days?”
“I’d be willing to let you do all the work.” His grin was so boyish and flirtatious.
She couldn’t hold back the giggle. “You are corruption incarnate. Come on, how about I feed you instead?”
He pressed a single finger against his chin. “I just don’t see how that’s going to be as much fun for either of us, but okay, if you insist.”
As they sat down at the table to eat, Mudflap took some more painkillers.
“How’s your headache today?”
“I took a nap this morning and that seemed to help.”
“So what was that spread all over your bed?”
“Darlin’, that was me. Has it truly been that long since we had sex? You don’t even recognize me anymore?”
She rolled her eyes at him. He was in a mood today. “All the paperwork and the box.”
“Oh, that. It’s actually Grant’s stuff. We were doing some research on his dad when we had downtime at the fire station. When I cleaned out my locker, the paperwork had been shoved into my stuff, so I brought it home. I heard something on the radio this morning that made me think about it.”
“Grant’s dad… I seem to remember something about him from his files. He thought his death should have been investigated, right?”
Mudflap watched her strangely for a moment. “How much did you know about me before we started dating?”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “Um, quite a bit before we actually started dating. But when we met in the hospital corridor, I didn’t know anything except I wanted you.”
“Good.” He gave her a hard, quick kiss. “Hang on and let me go get the stuff so you can see what I’m talking about.”
When he came back into the dining room, he had his hands full of various papers and books which he spread over the table. A lot of them were journals and newspaper clippings.
“Grant’s dad was a conspiracy theorist. He was always sure that there was a big brother entity standing by out there to get us and constantly researched various things in the news he thought were suspicious.”
“Is that why Grant doesn’t think his dad’s death was an accident?”
“Yes, that and the fact his dad used to be a dirt track racer. They said he lost control of his car in the rain that night. This was a guy who raced in mud and water for over ten years. He knew how to drive in slick conditions. Add that to the fact that his truck blew up on impact, it just doesn’t add up. I agree with Grant. I don’t think it was an accident.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with what’s going on right now?”
“There was a caller on the radio station spewing crazy talk about the football team and the explosion, but something about the way he phrased it struck me as familiar. I couldn’t figure it out at first, but when I woke up from my nap, I remembered… It was just like some of the notes Grant had from his dad.”
He opened a journal filled with newspaper clippings. There were certain phrases highlighted from quotes within the articles. All the quotes came from eye-witness accounts from crimes— shootings, bombings, bank robberies. Over and over again, three words showed up: justice, liberation, domination.
The oddest thing about it though is that when those words were used, they were in almost nonsense comments. One you could brush off, but these articles covered years of incidences. For it to occur this many times…Grant’s father had definitely been onto something.
“The guy on the radio used all these words when he talked about the car bombing over the weekend. And honestly, listening to him, the phrasing and the way he said it was wrong. It didn’t even sound right. It means something. I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, let me call Daniel so he can get the transcript from the radio station. Maybe we can also track down who the caller was.” As she pulled her cell phone out, she looked back over the papers. “Grant’s dad found the pattern. Have you been able to figure it out? Was he able to piece together who did this?”
&nbs
p; “No, but I did find this.” He opened a notebook and within it was a drawing of the five-point Celtic star coin identical to the one Grant had found at the cotton gin fire. He placed the notebook open on the table and placed the matching coin on top of it. “He also has the numbers five, three, one, written in the journals several times.”
Seeing that, she dug in her pocket for the baggie the site manager had given her. “They found this at the training center.” The second coin was an identical match. “It definitely all ties together. Now we just have to figure out what it means and who’s responsible. If Grant’s father died for this, the odds are good that the answers are here in his papers somewhere.”
Mudflap rubbed at his temples, while Shanae made the call into Daniel. When she finished with him on the phone, she turned back to Mudflap. “Daniel would like for us to come in with all the information Grant’s father gathered. He’s sending someone over the get the transcript from the radio station and he’d like for us to work with Quirk, LiFT’s techno geek, on this. He’s sending someone in to cover for me at the stadium. Are you feeling up to it?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just let me shower and get dressed.”
She examined his eyes. They already looked much duller than they’d been when she’d arrived home. If she were to guess, his headache was pounding at him with a vengeance.
“I know you’re hurting. Let me help.”
He stared at her for a moment before he bowed his head against his chest and agreed. “Okay.”
And that right there proved to her just how much pain he was really feeling.
Mudflap
Two hours later, Mudflap was pretty sure his brain was about to start oozing out of his ears, his head hurt so much. With Grant still in a nursing home, recovering from his long coma, he couldn’t help, so it was up to Mudflap to explain all the ins and outs of Grant’s dad’s journals.
Quirk was pretty nonchalant about it all as he input the information into his computer, until they got to the coins. He gasped when he saw them and yanked them out of Shanae’s grasp. He whirled around to place one under a microscope mumbling while he examined them. “I’ve heard about these, but never thought I’d see one.”