|Power and Finesse
Author: Kitty Roar PM
SERIOUSLY. DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME. THIS STORY IS ON INDEFINITE HIATUS. DON'T EXPECT AN UPDATE.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 33 - Words: 27,348 - Reviews: 301 - Favs: 119 - Follows: 120 - Updated: 03-12-11 - Published: 01-22-10 - id: 2767211
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: This story is currently undergoing revision. That is why pieces are missing. I have left a part of each chapter up in order to preserve reviews. Hopefully you can all be understanding about this and I won't be forced to take it down, because if it does go down, it won't be coming back up. Thanks so much for all the support!
Chapter Thirty-Three: Strong Enough
Parker was talking, explaining how everyone was going to be shifted around to accommodate losing Avalon, but Rowan wasn't really listening. All he could think about was Avalon and wonder if Dane was taking good care of him, absently gazing off in the direction that the ambulance had disappeared. The game he still had to finish playing was just about the farthest thing from his mind until Parker put a hand on his shoulder and addressed him gruffly. "Son, are you listening to me?" he demanded. The blank look on Rowan's face made the answer pretty clear. As if losing Avalon wasn't bad enough, if Rowan didn't get it together and bring his A-game, they might be in trouble. "Rowan, I need you to focus on the game."
"The game?" Rowan shrieked, his agitation evident by his shrill tone of voice, "Who gives a fuck about the game? Avalon is going t—"
He was interrupted by a slap upside the head from Parker. "Stop being an idiot. Avalon has a broken leg; he's not dead. You think he wants you to be sitting here wringing your hands like a useless fool? Of course not, son. He wants you to go out there, take names, and kick ass. Those pricks out there hurt him! Are you going to sit here and cry like a baby, or are you going to do something about it?"
Rowan turned his stare from Parker to glare at the opposing team's bench. Coach was right. Those assholes. Who did they think they were, breaking Avalon's leg like that? Yes, that definitely called for revenge. Painful revenge. Rowan was going to tear them apart. He was going to break every single one of their legs, and also score 93834 goals in the process. Disregarding anything else that Parker might have had to say, Rowan stalked out to his position on the field. Seeing him, the rest of the team broke huddle as well and lined up in their spots. Parker started to say that he wasn't done talking yet, but decided that he'd already gone over the important stuff anyway, so if they were ready, they could take the field.
"Good job, Dad," he heard Layla say sarcastically from where she stood beside him. "I hope you're prepared for about fifteen more broken legs." She did not approve of what her father had just done. This already ugly game was guaranteed to get even nastier now. Someone was about to be thrown into the snake pit, and Layla wasn't quite sure just who it was yet. Rowan would be out for blood. He would find a way to get his revenge, because when he was motivated, there was no stopping him. However, it was quite possible that he might get dragged down along with his victims seeing as how they were all bigger than him. As if the team wasn't in enough trouble now that Avalon was out; they would be hurting if they lost a second starting player. What was her stupid dad thinking, lighting Rowan's fire like that?
"As long as they're fifteen of the other team's broken legs, I don't care what he does," Parker replied.
"Of course you don't," Layla muttered to herself, storming away from her father's side to go busy herself with something as she went on ranting. "Why would you care about anything other than winning your stupid soccer games? Why would you care if Rowan gets hurt? Why would you care if any of them get hurt? As long as you get your fucking win, why would it matter?"
She thought she was talking quietly to herself. But Parker heard her. The first part, at least. He thought back to earlier in the week when he had spoken to Rowan in the bathroom, told him that he was like a son. It was true. Parker never would have gone through the absolute agony of a sentimental moment if it hadn't been true. The problem was that it was almost too true. That group out there, the core of his team, they were all very dear to him. So much that Parker felt like he had to be biased against them so that it wouldn't show that he definitely had favorites on the team. Perhaps he had taken it too far. Maybe he was actually starting to believe that he didn't care about any of them, that they were just statistics on paper.
"Rowan!" Parker suddenly shouted, waving him over before the game resumed.
With a small roll of his eyes at having to jog all the way back over to the bench, Rowan answered Parker's call. "What?"
"Run up the score on these bastards. Rip their pride to shreds," he told Rowan with a grin. A simple way to redirect Rowan's focus. Hopefully, instead of concentrating on causing physical injuries, he would be concentrating on playing the game. Of course, Parker didn't know how effective his strategy would be with Rowan hell-bent on getting his revenge. All he could do was hope that Rowan had a little sense in him. Stupid thing to hope for, especially for someone who had known Rowan as long as Parker had.