It Had to Be You (47 page)

Dan’s face came on the screen, and she made up her mind. She wasn’t going to lose him or the Stars without a fight. Her mind raced. She would only have one chance, and she had to pick her moment.

5:07
. . .
5:06
. . .
5:05
. . .

Hardesty bent forward, racked by another of his hacking coughs. She planted her feet and shoved hard against the floor. The chair flew forward.

He spun awkwardly as he heard the wheels squeak. With a harsh exclamation, he lifted his fist to strike her. She drew up her legs and rammed her heel into his groin.

He gave a scream of pain and doubled forward. She shot up, drawing her arms over the back of the chair, her wrists still tied behind her. She stumbled for the door. Twisting the knob behind her back, she popped the lock and rushed out into the hallway.

She ran awkwardly in the direction of the elevator while she continued to tug at her wrists. But although the ropes were looser, she still couldn’t slip free. She heard a groan from behind her and glanced back to see Hardesty staggering through the doorway.

She lurched toward a gray metal door marked “Stairs” and stumbled, barely righting herself before she fell. Once again precious seconds ticked by as she turned her back to pull on the door handle. A loop of rope slipped down over her fingers making the process even more difficult. Hardesty, still doubled over, moved forward.

“You bitch. . . .” he gasped.

Terror shot through her as he fumbled for the gun on his hip. The door into the stairwell swung open. She pushed herself inside, then screamed and hunched her shoulders as bits of concrete exploded from the wall in front of her, showering her with stinging debris.

She gave a choked cry. Before he could fire at her again, she began struggling up the stairs, frantically tugging at the tangled ropes that were making her movements so awkward. She had almost reached the landing when one of the loops finally slipped loose. She freed herself from the rest just as she heard that awful wheeze coming from below her, the sound amplified in the hollow stairwell.

“Bitch!”

She spun and saw him at the bottom of the stairwell, where his face was purple and he was gasping for air as if he were strangling. Paralyzed, she stared at the gun that was pointed directly at her.

“I’m not . . .” He sagged against the wall, clutching his heaving chest. “I’m not . . . going to let you . . .”

The gun wavered, releasing her from her paralysis. She raced around the bend of the landing. Another shot rang out, hitting the wall behind her. She didn’t dare stop to see if he was following as she flew up the remaining stairs. When she reached the door, she heard a cry of pain that was almost inhuman. She pulled on the handle just as the thud of a heavy weight hitting the floor echoed in the stairwell.

She dashed out into the hallway, trying desperately to orient herself. She heard the noise of the crowd and realized that she had stumbled into the far end of the corridor that led to the Stars’ locker room. Wasting no time, she headed toward the field tunnel, throwing off her sequined blue jacket with its bloodstained cuffs as she ran.

A security guard stood at the mouth of the tunnel. He whipped around when he heard the clatter of her shoes. As she ran toward him, he gaped at her rumpled hair, torn stockings, and bloody wrists.

“One of the guards is lying at the bottom of the stairwell by the locker room!” She fought for breath. “I think he’s had a heart attack. Be careful. He’s crazy and he has a gun.”

The man stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Before he could question her, she ran past him toward the field. The guard stationed at the fence recognized her and jumped back from the gate. The Sabers’ offense was on the field. She looked at the scoreboard.

2:58
. . .

And then, all she saw was the back of Dan’s head.

The problems between them evaporated as she ran toward the bench. Players were blocking her way, and she shoved at their jerseys.

“Let me through! Let me by!”

One by one they stepped aside, clearly astonished to see her. Bobby Tom and Jim Biederot caught sight of her and began to rush forward.

“Dan!”

He whirled around as she called out his name. His face contorted with a depth of emotion she had never seen, and she leapt into his arms.

“Phoebe! Thank God! Oh, thank God, Phoebe . . .” Over and over he muttered her name as he held her tight against his chest.

The sideline minicam zeroed in on them, while in the owner’s skybox, Ron shot to his feet and ran for the door. Meanwhile in the broadcasting booth, the announcers were stumbling all over each other trying to explain why the Stars’ owner was embracing the coach who had spent the past two quarters of the game cold-bloodedly leading her team into disaster.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He returned the kiss and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“Can you still win?” she whispered.

“As long as you’re safe, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.” His voice was gruff with emotion, and she drew back far enough to see that his eyes were filled with tears. “I thought I’d lost you,” he said. “I love you so much. Oh, God, I love you.”

She locked the words away like a treasure to be drawn out later. For now, she could only think of him and what he’d done for her.

“I want you to win. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s not important”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” She realized she was crying.

He hugged her hard. “Don’t cry, honey. Let’s just be happy you’re alive.”

She realized he thought she wanted this for herself. “You don’t understand. I don’t want you to win for me! I want you to do it for yourself!”

“We’re behind by ten, honey. There are less than three minutes on the clock.”

“Then you’d better get to work.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face, and his eyes were so full of love that all the doubts she’d had about his feelings evaporated.

“We’d have to score two touchdowns to win, and right now the men hate my guts.”

“I’ll talk to them.”

“Phoebe . . .”

She cupped his cheek. “I love you, Coach. Now get to work. That’s an order.”

Leaving his arms took all her willpower, but she pulled away while he still looked dazed from her declaration. She’d barely taken two steps before Bobby Tom and Jim were at her side.

“Are you all right?” Bobby Tom’s face was pale with concern. “Damn, Phoebe, you had us so scared.”

“I’m fine.” She grabbed their arms. “I want to win this game. I want Dan to be able to win it.”

“If we had more time—”

Phoebe cut Jim off. “I don’t care about that. I can’t let this happen to him. Not to any of you.”

She turned away and raced toward Darnell. Somehow she had to restore the players’ faith in their coach, but she had so little time. He looked alarmed as he saw the state she was in, and he took a quick step forward.

“Phoebe, what happened to you?”

As quickly as possible, she explained. Attempting to catch her breath at the end, she said, “Dan was only trying to protect me. Tell the other linemen that. We’re going to win this game.”

Before he could question her, the players who were not on the field began to surround her, and she repeated her story. As they pelted her with questions, the Sabers punted.

Dan had his headset back on and was shouting instructions. Jim slapped his shoulder and dashed onto the field with the offense.

The two-minute warning sounded.

Dan hunched forward, his hands splayed on his thighs. The Stars were playing without a huddle. Phoebe dug her fingernails into her palms as the action on the field began to unfold.

Jim drilled a pass to his tight end for a completion. On the next play he just missed the tailback on a screen pass. And then on third down, he threw incomplete.

The Stars’ trainer appeared at her side and began to wrap her wrists in gauze. Word of what had happened had spread through the team, and Webster Greer came up next to her like a bodyguard.

Jim connected for a first down at the thirty-eight yard line, and the dome reverberated with cheers.

The Sabers’ defense was slow to adjust to the no-huddle passing attack. Dry-mouthed, Phoebe watched her team move to the seventeen.

1:10

Biederot connected with Collier Davis. Phoebe screamed as Davis took it in for the touchdown.

The fans went wild.

On the sideline Dan was huddled with the kickoff team and special teams’ coordinator.

The Stars made the extra point.
Sabers 27, Stars 24.

0:58

As the Stars’ kickoff team lined up, the crowd anticipated the onside kick, knowing the Stars had to regain possession of the ball. The onside kick was a maneuver Dan had forced the players to practice hundreds of times during the season, until they could perform it flawlessly. But this wasn’t a practice, and the other team knew that short, potentially lethal kick was coming.

Phoebe glanced over at Dan. He looked fierce and wonderful.

The ball rotated with a crazy spin as it came off the side of the kicker’s foot. It barely traveled the required ten yards before it hit the hands of a Sabers’ halfback. He tried to hold onto it, but couldn’t. Elvis Crenshaw blasted him.

It was anybody’s ball, and twenty-two men dived for it. Helmets cracked and the men’s snarls were audible on the sidelines even through the screams of the crowd.

The whistle blew and the refs began pulling off players. Phoebe dug her fingers into Webster’s arm.

One by one the men got up—Stars, Sabers—until there were only two players left on the ground, one in a sky blue jersey and one wearing crimson.

Dan gave a jubilant yell.

The Sabers’ player staggered up, leaving only Darnell Pruitt clasping the football.

The crowd noise was deafening. Darnell jumped up and threw his arms in the air. The Stars had recovered the ball on their own forty-eight yard line.

0:44

Dan slapped Biederot on the back as he ran onto the field. On the first play, Jim completed a pass to the forty-two.

0:38

The Sabers’ defense, anticipating that the passing attack would continue, set up deep to protect against the bomb. Instead, they were suckered in by one of the sweetest running plays Dan had ever called. First and ten on the twenty-two.

0:25

The Stars’ next two passes were incomplete, and Phoebe tried to prepare herself for defeat.

0:14

Biederot called for their remaining time-out and raced over to Dan on the sideline. They engaged in a furious dialogue. Jim ran back out.

The atmosphere in the dome was electric. As the teams lined up, Phoebe looked at the scoreboard. It was third down and they were twenty-two yards away.

Jim threw another incomplete pass.

0:08

Dan signaled wildly as the players rushed back into formation. But instead of the field goal that could bring them a tie and put them into sudden death, the Stars were going for a touchdown. Fourth down and twenty-two yards away.

Jim took the long snap from shotgun formation and searched for his favorite target, Phoebe’s sweet-footed, nimble-fingered $8-million wide-out from Telarosa, Texas.

Bobby Tom made a sharp cut at the seven to lose his man. The ball spiraled toward him. He leapt up and snatched it out of the air in a gesture so graceful it was almost feminine.

Defenders lunged for him.

He spun toward the goal line. He stumbled. Just as he righted himself, he got hit from the side. Once more he spun free.

But Brewer Gates, the Sabers’ star safety, was barreling toward him.

Bobby Tom knew he was going to get hit, but he left his body unprotected as he stretched the ball out in front of him and threw himself at the goal line.

With bared teeth and a bone crusher’s roar, Gates lunged to meet him at the two yard line.

And was blasted straight into the air by Darnell Pruitt.

Bobby Tom hit the ground hard, every muscle in his lean runner’s body extended. His head was ringing and he tried to clear his vision.

0:01

Through his face mask, he followed the line of his arms to his hands. They cradled the ball directly on top of the goal line.

The ref’s arms shot up in the air, signaling the touchdown. The screams of the crowd shook the curved walls of the dome.

Phoebe was laughing and crying. Webster hugged her, then Elvis Crenshaw. Pandemonium broke out on the field and in the stands as the final gun sounded.

She tried to get to Dan, but she couldn’t move through the sea of blue jerseys that surrounded her. She scrambled up onto the bench and spotted him pushing through the men to reach her. His face was split by a huge grin and their eyes locked. She threw one arm up into the air and laughed. Behind him, she saw several of the players approaching with an enormous green plastic container held high. She laughed harder as they emptied it over his head.

A shower of Gatorade and ice sloshed over him. He hunched his shoulders and yelled as he received the victory baptism.

Some members of the crowd booed. They had no knowledge of the drama that had taken place behind the scenes, and they still wanted Dan’s blood for forcing the game into such a desperate finish.

He shook his head, sending droplets flying everywhere as he cleared his eyes enough so that he could see Phoebe again.

Bobby Tom threw his arm around Dan’s shoulder and shoved the game ball at him. “This one’s for you, pardner.”

The men hugged. Dan clutched the ball to his chest and once again turned toward Phoebe.

He swiped at his face with one dry cuff and saw that she was still standing on the bench. She looked like a goddess rising above the sea of swirling blue jerseys, her blond hair glittering in the lights. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he loved her with all his heart. The strength of his feelings no longer frightened him. Having come so close to losing her, he would not take that risk again.