chapter 14

Meanwhile, on the other side of the field, Harry was still cooking up a plot with his boys. They huddled together, eyes darting as they whispered among themselves. Harry's voice cut through the hushed tones, cold. Sharp. Direct.

"Never entrust a man's job to a little boy. David clearly isn't up to the task, boys, so numero uno will handle it from here," he said, locking eyes on one of the players.

David shifted uncomfortably, arms folded tight across his chest as his heart raced uncontrollably. "It wasn't just me man, come on , it's a team game, man," he muttered. "The whole team messed up, not just me."

Harry smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Guilty conscience i see," he said. "Excuses are for the weak, for those not good enough to find a solution. And tell me , when did I say it was just you? But if one look from me makes you fold like a lawn chair, then maybe you're not built for this. Too sensitive. Too soft. We're a group of men here, not little boys."

He stepped forward slightly.

"I don't have time to babysit or hold your hand, David. You should've known that before you even touched the field. So if that's what you're looking for, this group? Definitely not for you. You're just a deer in the headlights. A boy lost at sea with a bunch of sharks, struggling to stay afloat. We're a bunch of Apex predators, not the prey. You don't have the makeup to be on my team if you're just a little cub."

He paused, then added with a smirk, "But don't worry. You'll get your chance to prove me wrong… maybe."

The player's face turned red with anger. "But—"

"But nothing," Harry cut in, brushing past him like he wasn't even there. "You had your chance. You weren't up to the task, You couldn't get the job done. So sit back, take out your notepad and pen and watch how the master gets it done."

The whistle blew, and play resumed. Marcus took the ball and passed it off cleanly to Gabriel who held the ball tightly to his chest before springing into motion. He darted between defenders, left , right , hurdling , spinning , sharp and fluid, feet pounding the turf like a rhythm only he could hear. Nobody could lay a finger on him, he was putting on a show for the ages , all his team could do is stand there and watch in awe of what he was doing, he was setting the pitch a blaze.

Then he saw him. Harry.

Jai-Lee's words echoed in his mind like an alarm clock with no snooze button. Gabriel exhaled deeply, already knowing how this would end.

Great… of course it would be him. The football gods wouldn't have it any other way now, would they? He's never going to let me live this down.

Still, he pushed forward.

Harry locked in, eyes fixed like a predator spotting its prey. He picked up speed, charging full tilt , faster than Gabriel expected. The field narrowed in Gabriel's vision. Before he could even think of dodging—

BAM!

Harry slammed into him like a freight train.

"Huhhh!" Gabriel's breath exploded out of him. "Rrghhh!"

His back hit the turf hard, the world spinning around him. The crowd of players let out a collective oof as the lent slightly back, squinting at how hard Harry had hit Gabriel.

The whistle blew once. Then again. And again.

Coach Kemp's eyes widened as he sprinted across the field, blowing it a fourth time as he neared. Players backed away.

Gabriel lay there, flat on his back, staring up at the grey sky.

Arghhh… I'm going to feel that for weeks.

His ribs screamed. His legs tingled. He blinked twice, groaning.

Harry leaned over him, hands on his knees, a cocky grin stretched across his face. "Welcome to the big leagues, little man."

Gabriel winced, lifting one shaky arm and giving a slow thumbs up.

Coach Kemp knelt beside him. "You alright, Gabriel?"

Gabriel nodded faintly, thumb still raised.

Coach sighed and stood. "Alright. That's enough for today, boys. I'll let the two trialists know who made it on Monday. Everyone head in and get changed. Gabriel relax , shake off the cobwebs and get your head together before you try and get up."

As the players walked off, some whispered and others glanced back. Harry strutted toward the changing rooms, laughing with his crew as they patted him on the back.

"That's how you do it, boys. Never send someone to do a job only the final boss can finish," he said, slapping palms and soaking up the praise.

Inside the changing room, as players toweled off and got dressed, Harry pulled David aside. His smile disappeared.

"You want in?" he asked.

David looked up, desperate. "More than anything, man."

Harry didn't blink. "Then what are you gonna do about Gabriel? You gonna let him show us up like that?"

David hesitated. "Us?"

Harry's expression went cold. "You were one of us when you took that field. Over and over again, he juked you , made you look like you never played a day of football in your life , you couldn't lay a finger on him. You carried my name… and you embarrassed me. Matter of fact , you embarrassed all the boys."

He leaned in.

"Your dad's gone. The only man in your house is you. That makes you the man. So start acting like it. Stand on business… or turn around and never come back."

David dropped his gaze, shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry. You're right."

"Words mean nothing," Harry said. "It's what you do that counts." He patted David on the shoulder and walked off.

David sat for a moment, jaw clenched. Then he snapped.

"ARRGHHH!" he roared, slamming his fist into the locker.

He jumped to his feet, eyes burning with rage, and stormed out of the changing room.

Gabriel, just around the corner, was walking slowly, still rubbing his ribs. His smile was faint until he saw David charging straight toward him.

His stomach dropped.

David's face was twisted in fury. His fists were clenched tight, knuckles white, breath heavy and sharp.

Gabriel took a step back, letting go of his side. The pain from the tackle vanished in an instant. His body snapped into focus, every hair on edge.

"Gabriel!" David shouted, his voice echoing down the corridor.