Jeremy just stares at Luke and says, " The only reason you want me to enjoy these ladies and to stay out with you is that I'm the only one who can get you to drink responsibly, and if I don't stay out, you're going to stay out all night and not get an ounce of sleep. You'll show up drunk to the League meetings and might have a repeat of last year from what I have heard. "
Luke grins ear to ear while saying, " Yes, I am, and Yes, You are. " Luke is playing on Jeremy's loyalty to friends, teammates, etc.
Jeremy stares at Luke with a disapproving glare thinking that there is no logical reason to stay out except to help a friend and not embarrass himself. Jeremy rolls his eyes and then replies, " Fine, I'll stay out with you, but we're going to do things my way this time. " Then he thinks to himself, " I have a bad feeling about this. "
The only thing Jeremy remembers is waking up to the five O'Clock alarm and shutting it off, moaning and groaning, feeling exhausted. Shortly after shutting off the alarm, Jeremy hears a slight moan next to him; he quickly looks over and sees a blonde woman looking about her mid-twenties laying on her stomach with a Tattoo right above her butt, saying, " Princess. "
Jeremy mutters, " God Damnit Fucking, Luke. " He looks down and sees a condom still attached to his package. He must have fallen asleep shortly after fooling around with her. "I have never been able to experience sex without not remembering it, thanks to Luke. " Jeremy thought to himself while beating himself up.
He never had a girlfriend or fooled around during high school and College; Jeremy just focused on his grades and sports. He wanted to get settled into the pros before getting a significant other.
Jeremy went to the bathroom and threw the condom in the toilet after looking for holes, as he had always heard horror stories regarding athletes and drunken nights. He jumped in the shower and scrubbed himself down with soap. Being in the shower is so relaxing; Jeremy always thought it sounded like rain and could escape the world along with its pressure.
Jeremy got dressed in very nice dark denim jeans that hugged his thighs and calves as he slightly kept up his athletic form; it made his butt look so juicy. He wore a black compression t-shirt that clung onto his muscular torso and a black button-down dress shirt that was always pretty tight as his biceps were just big enough that every long sleeve seemed to look like it was going to burst by the seams. Jeremy fixed his hair a modern pompadour with somewhat shaved sides and combed his medium rugged beard. Once Jeremy was ready for the League meetings, he went to check on the woman to make sure that she was alright and apologize for having to go to work.
At the League meetings, everything was pretty much uneventful, outside of Luke being amused with himself for his little stunt the night before. The sessions were supposed to be two days long, but it was just a long Saturday ending an hour early at 5 pm. Luke invited the League owners to the MMA fight later that night at 8 pm. Jeremy decided to go to the fights, but he wasn't going to drink tonight because he wasn't going to chance anything with Luke.
Luke was giving Jeremy a hard time during the fights the night before. It wasn't the first time Luke pulled something like that with Jeremy, but Jeremy hoped that last night would be the last time Luke would get one on him.
A few months later, the beginning of the season was just around the corner, and the team was starting their last two tryouts and training camp. Jeremy was sitting at midfield about twenty rows up from the field, watching the tryouts unfold, sipping some bourbon when Coach Lombardi sat beside Jeremy. Lombardi says to Jeremy, " You know it's early to be drinking alcohol, right? by the way, Terrell and I don't like the team name that you went with, the Colorado Cannibals?; you're just asking for trouble, and the Mustangs might just go after the contract money that we gave you if you don't change it. "
Jeremy quickly turned and stared at Lombardi, then kept watching the tryouts and retorted, " The last time I checked, all of the paperwork for the team has only my name on it, so I make the decisions for the team, not anyone else, also the fans voted for the team name and chose the name. I only hired Terrell as a favor for you, so if he doesn't like the team name, he can quit, and I'll find another to coach the team. In regards to my money from the contract that you gave me, the team would look like a fool coming after me now as the Mustangs. You had a press conference with me saying, " You couldn't imagine how the team wouldn't give a local legend the money after what I've done for the community, and it wasn't my fault that I got injured, also the fact that I tried so hard to get back into the field for Mustangs. Remember also, Coach, if you want to come after the money, that our agreement was an under-the-table handshake deal, and if you come after the money, I will sell the team to someone who won't help you. You know I will because I don't want anything to do with football anymore. "
Before Coach Lombardi can reply, a linebacker, who is trying out for the team, lights up the quarterback, then Terrell blows the whistle. While the whistle was blown, Jeremy froze and had a flashback of the hit that ended his career. Jeremy was shaken out of the flashback by Coach Lombardi.
" Come on, we need to get down to the field. " barked Lombardi. As they head down to the field, Coach Terrell Hillis screams, " There are no Women allowed on the field. "
Denver was alive with anticipation. The Cannibals’ playoff run had become the talk of the nation, but inside the Coliseum, the air was thick with more than just excitement. It was the kind of tension that made every laugh a little too loud, every silence a little too long. Championship Week: Wolves in Town The Billings Wolves arrived on Monday, their buses flanked by police escorts and news vans. For the first time, Alicia—once the heart of the Cannibals’ defense—walked into the Coliseum as an opponent. She wore Wolves black and red, her familiar stride now just a bit more guarded, her smile a little more careful. The city buzzed with excitement and nerves. Sports radio hosts debated matchups and legacies. Bars hung “Welcome Wolves” banners next to “Go Cannibals!” signs. At the first league-mandated joint press conference, the air was electric. Reporters peppered Alicia, Alexandra, and Heather with questions not just about the game, but about
The Denver Coliseum was still humming with the echoes of victory. The Cannibals had just punched their ticket to the WWIF OK Corral Championship, outlasting the Omaha Cattlemen in a bruising, brilliant playoff battle. Fans poured into the streets, blue and silver flags waving, horns blaring. Inside, the team celebrated with laughter and tears, the dream of a title on their home field now just two weeks away. But for Jeremy, the glow of triumph was already shadowed by uncertainty. The Warning from Bill Lombardi As the last of the confetti settled and the locker room began to empty, Jeremy ducked into the hallway for a breath of quiet. He didn’t get far. Bill Lombardi, head coach of the Denver Mustangs, was waiting by the exit, arms folded, jaw set. He wasted no time. “JD, a word?” Lombardi’s tone was heavy with authority. Jeremy nodded, bracing himself. Lombardi leaned in, voice low. “
The Cannibals’ regular season ended with a thunder that would echo across Denver for years. Undefeated. Unbreakable. The Denver Coliseum was a fortress of hope, banners snapping in the wind, fans roaring until their voices were hoarse. But for Jeremy and Alexandra, the real victory was quieter, more personal—a battle for truth, closure, and the future.The Truth Comes OutIt started with a single press release:FORENSIC ANALYSIS PROVES VIDEO DOCTORED; SIERRA MADDOX IDENTIFIED AS SOURCE.The news swept through the sports world like wildfire. The forensics team’s report was airtight, exposing every splice and edit in the so-called “proof” against Alexandra. The league and national media ran with it. Sierra Maddox’s name trended for all the wrong reasons. The WWIF issued a statement condemning her actions. Sponsors dropped her. Legal action loomed.At the Cannibals’ facility, Alexandra sat in the film room with Jeremy, Heather, and Jenifer, watching t
The Denver Coliseum was officially Jeremy’s now, but the victory felt hollow. The morning after the rally, Alexandra found a small, nondescript package waiting in her locker. No return address—just her name, typed in bold. She hesitated, heart pounding, then opened it. Inside was a USB drive labeled in block letters: PROOF.She stared at it for a long time before plugging it into her laptop in the empty trainer’s office. The video was slickly edited, spliced together from game footage and sideline interviews. It showed her infamous block against her stepbrother, slowed and zoomed, overlaid with red circles and arrows. A voice—distorted, genderless—narrated: “Notice the angle of attack. The intent. The follow-through. This was no accident.”A second file claimed to be an expert analysis, complete with a fake sports science logo. It concluded, “The evidence strongly suggests malice.”A note popped up on the screen:If Jeremy doesn’t step down and you don
The Omaha conference room was thick with tension, the kind that made every breath feel weighted. Jeremy sat at the long table, Alexandra’s hand clasped tightly in his, knuckles white. Lloyd Wright and Luke Elliot flanked him, silent but resolute. Across the table, Chad Ross and Mack Hollis wore matching scowls, their impatience barely concealed as Commissioner Larry Helton rose to speak.“After careful deliberation,” Helton began, his voice echoing off the sterile walls, “the Colorado Cannibals will remain in the WWIF for the remainder of the season-provisionally. Effective immediately, the team will be subject to league oversight, compliance reviews, and a final evaluation after the playoffs. Any further violations or conduct detrimental to the league will result in immediate expulsion.”A murmur rippled through the room. Chad Ross slammed his fist on the table. “This is a mistake. You’re setting a precedent-”Lloyd cut in, voice cold as ice. “The only pr
The sun rose over Denver in a haze of gold and steel, but Jeremy Davis barely noticed. He stood at the window of his office, staring at the battered roof of the Denver Coliseum, feeling the city’s weight on his shoulders. The stadium looked almost fragile from up here, as if the wrong gust of wind could blow it away. He pressed his palm to the glass, thinking of Alexandra, the Cannibals, and the promise he’d made: “I can’t keep looking over my shoulder, Jeremy. Make it stop.”He’d promised her he would-no matter what it took.He called his accountant, Carl, before the city was fully awake. “Start negotiations with the city. I want to buy the Coliseum. Full ownership. No partners. And Carl-draft a contingency fund. Enough to launch a new league if we need to.”Carl’s voice was low, cautious. “You’re playing hardball, Jeremy.”“They left me no choice,” Jeremy said, watching the first rays of sunlight glint off the stadium. “And Carl-I want you ready
The Denver Coliseum was a fortress under siege. Outside, the air crackled with tension. Protesters and supporters clashed at the barricades, their chants-“Clean up the league!” and “We stand with JD!”-echoing down the block. Police and private security kept the crowds apart, but the energy was volatile. News vans and satellite trucks lined the street, and helicopters hovered overhead, their spotlights sweeping the parking lot.Inside, the Cannibals tried to focus, but the noise seeped through the walls-a relentless drumbeat of doubt and defiance. The Amarillo Outlaws, their rivals for a playoff spot, were already on the field, warming up with a swagger that said they smelled blood.Jeremy paced the locker room, helmet in hand, his mind racing. He could feel the pressure on his chest, every breath a battle. Alexandra sat at her locker, lacing her cleats, her jaw set and eyes locked on the floor. She’d found another note in her locker that morning-You don’t belong he
The Cannibals’ facility was a fortress under siege. TV trucks lined the street, reporters huddled at the gates, and fans in Cannibals jerseys waved homemade signs that read “Stand With JD” and “Let Us Play!” Inside, the tension was electric. The league’s final vote was set for noon, and everyone knew what was at stake: not just Jeremy’s future, but the fate of the entire franchise. Jeremy paced his office, unable to sit still. Alexandra watched him from the couch, her own nerves raw. Jenifer was on the phone with the league’s legal counsel, her voice clipped and businesslike. Lloyd and Luke, both in town for the vote, hovered nearby, their support a rare comfort in the chaos. Every few minutes, Jeremy’s phone buzzed with messages from teammates, friends, and even old coaches. Most were supportive, but a few were worried, asking if the rumors were true, if the Cannibals were really about to be erased from the league. At 11:45, Jenifer hung
Jeremy’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped through Denver’s midnight streets. The city was a blur of neon and shadow, but inside his truck, the tension was suffocating. The anonymous message echoed in his mind: You survived today, JD. But the truth isn’t done with you. Meet me tomorrow, alone, or I go public with everything.Every traffic light felt like a test of patience. Every passing headlight made him glance in the mirror. He kept replaying the league owners’ ultimatum, the threats, and Alexandra’s tearful promise that she’d stand by him no matter what. The Cannibals’ future, his career, and the woman he loved were all hanging by a thread.He texted Alexandra as he pulled onto his street:I’m going to the meet. Lloyd and Luke are on standby. Stay safe. I love you.The porch light was on when he arrived. Inside, Lloyd, Alexandra, Jenifer, and Luke were waiting, their faces drawn with worry. Jenifer stood first, her eyes fierce. “