Chapter 1.6

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

1.6

Mitchell’s body slammed into the astroturf. Two bodies piled on top instantly. Luckily, he landed on his back still clutching the ball. He heard one of the heavy bodies curse clearly not happy about that outcome.

“That’s right, guys. Try harder next time.” He grunted out.

They got off him when the ref blew his whistle. He jumped to his feet, still holding the ball. The ref made the calls before Mitchell tossed the ball to him.

Stadium light eliminated the field as Mitchell went back to the huddle. He had got them close enough to make a field goal if the QB was daring, but his lead was no idiot. The guy wanted Mitch to make that touchdown. And Mitch had every intention of making that damn touchdown.

Why?

To prove to every homophobic bigot that he could play the game despite or in addition to being gay. To let his team’s owner know that if he blacklisted him because of his sexual orientation, he was a fucking fool, because he was one of the best damn running backs currently in the league.

And to keep Bailey and many of his friends in the league from walking off the field and quitting. Because Bailey had called him that afternoon and vowed, if they benched or traded Mitchell, he’d make some noise that would make the league feel the thunder.

“Touchdown!”

The crowd roared as Mitchell stood in the end-zone and stared up at the sky, smiling. His team crowded around him yelling and patting him on the back.

“One more game until the Super Bowl!”

There was a lot of screaming, shouting, celebrating, but all Mitchell could do was stare up into the night and thank God he made it. Because if he didn’t Dorian would lose his shit.

Cheering, laughing, crying, his team ushered him off the field and to the locker room as the fans continued to party.

“You alright man?” One of his team members asked, clearly concerned as he took his helmet off to look Mitchell in the eyes. Some of his teammates supported him, clearly not caring what Mitch was. But some…weren’t so nice.

“I’m good.” Mitchell nodded sighing. “Glad we won.”

“Because of you.” The guy clapped him on the shoulder before leaning into him. “Now prepare for the reporters.”

Mitchell nodded going to his corner of the locker room. He quickly dressed as many of the reporters filed into the room. Several of them made an instant dash for him, the sports story of the moment.

“Mitchell! Mitchell! That was an incredible game…”

He groaned as he sat down tying his shoes. He didn’t want to face the camera, but Cody threatened his person that he better smile and eat shit for the camera – her actual words. And she was right, if he could make the media love him, he might survive what’s coming.

“We all know you played your heart out in every game, but in this game you were beyond exceptional. Does it have anything to do with the recent reports about you being found in public kissing another man.”

“You mean my fiancé,” Mitchell told them pointedly smiling as charming as he knew how. “Who would be really pissed right now if you got the headlines wrong. I don’t want him trying to kill me because he thinks I’m cheating on him.”

The reporters laughed. But it wasn’t funny to Mitchell who plastered on a fake smile. Dorian was fucking pissed when he saw the sports headlines that morning, until he realized he was the other man. Then again, Mitchell should be pissed at Dorian instead since it was his craziness and his inability to keep his hands to himself that got them into this mess. But Mitchell could never stay angry at the idiot.

“But to answer your question… Yeah, I guess I’m worried about how the fans and my team will treat me.” Mitchell continued. “I mean, I like playing. I don’t want that to change just because I’m gay. If you think about it…there was a time African Americans couldn’t play in the league because of their skin, but now because of my predecessors, I’m here.” He shrugged, really glad that was no longer an issue or he’d really be in the shit. “I just hope they don’t make an issue of my sexuality, so that I can play the game I love.”

“There are already other openly gay players, so do you really think you need to worry about the league ousting you?”

Mitchell laughed, wanting to sneer. If he didn’t need to worry, would he have cameras pointed into his face? “Unfortunately, we’re all worried more than we show it. We just want to play. We’re not here for any other reason. As for those who worry I’ll start wearing rainbow cleats, don’t worry, I hate rainbows…and pink. And nail polish. No offense to people who like those.” He winced. Some of the reporters laughed.

The reporters continued to pepper him with questions until the coach called Mitchell to him. He apologized to them before walking to the office. The guy handed him a beer walking around his desk and taking a seat.

“Coach?” Mitchell asked sitting on one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. Coach didn’t allow drinking on the job, and as long as the media hung around, Mitchell was still on the job.

“Drink.”

“Shit…” Mitchell sat the drink aside on the armrest. “What’s going on?”

“Too much publicity. Mr. Copperstein wants you to back off from the media a bit.”

Mitchell chuckled. Of course the guy did, he wanted to be able to make whatever decision he could get away with, without the media suspecting. Bigot asshole.

“Mitch, I don’t need to vouch for you. Hell, any idiot who saw tonight’s game won’t care that you’re you. And every one of our fans would probably kill for you at this point if they can ride your back to the Super Bowl.”

Mitchell nodded knowing the team’s fans cared most about the wins.

“Just lay low…let this blow over. And hopefully most people will forget you’re whatever.”

“Gay, coach. It’s not a disease you’ll catch if you talk about it,” Mitchel said standing up.

“No, I don’t mean… I just don’t want to offend you. And I come from an older generation that might not say what it politically correct. I’m not sure what to say-“

“Then ask. Questions don’t hurt if they’re not malicious.”

“Right. Gay.”

“I got to go. Before Dorian tries to kill someone,” he said of that nutty soulmate.

“He had real potential. I’m surprised he gave up football just to be an agent,” The coach said.

“Nope, he didn’t do it to be an agent. He did it to be with me.” Mitchell grinned proudly leaving the office. And that’s another reason he could never be mad at the screwball for long. Dorian did nearly everything for Mitchell.

Out in the locker room, the team was chanting, “Super Bowl! Super Bowl!” As Mitchell gathered his things and left. Outside in the stadium corridors, Cody smiled and played nice with the reporters as her assistant stood behind her keeping her steady. The pregnant woman should’ve been at home with her feet up, since she was at risk carrying twins, but the hard headed stubborn beauty refused to let Mitchell down. He knew Cody had a big heart, but he didn’t know how big until the shit hit the proverbial fan.

Cody was ready to go to war for him. Unfortunately, Cody was pregnant and already threatened with bed rest. But she refused to rest while the NFL demonized him.

“I’ve known Mitchell for years. He’s a damn good player and I’m proud to represent him. And if the NFL doesn’t fucking want him and Mr. Copperstein wants to sweep him under the rug, then I hope they all die and roast painfully in hell.”

Mitchell winced at Cody’s language. She had a hard time holding back her swearing when she was passionate. More so now that she was pregnant. Unfortunately, that meant extra work for whoever had to edit out those words.

Mitchell was walking up to her, when he noticed she was holding her lower belly, as if to keep it from falling.

“I’ll have you know, Mitchell is not the kind of guy that will go after any of the men he works for. Firstly, because he’s professional, and secondly because he didn’t want to cause the uproar it has become. He just wants to play football dammit.” When Cody gritted that last part out, Mitchell frowned. Her voice didn’t sound right.

Pushing through the reporters, Mitchell reached his friend. “Cody?”

“I’m not done yet…” She growled before she began cursing.

“Cody?”

The woman bent toward him.

“Shit. Someone get the medical staff and call for an ambulance!” Mitchell roared before sweeping Cody into his arms.

She was heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle as fear gave him an extra boost.

“Fucking hell!” Cody roared in pain.

“Cody, how long have you been feeling the contractions?”

“Is that what this shit is…” She growled. “I thought it was just gas again. Fuck!”

Mitchell would have laughed any other time. When they jogged to the end of the corridor several men in suits met him.

“What’s going on?” One of them asked looking menacing. “Ms. Delarosa?”

“Labor,” Mitch said pushing past them.

Both of them tensed, as Mitchell kept walking until he found the medical team running toward them with a stretcher.

“I’m never having anymore of Bailey’s babies!” Cody shouted in his ear as he lowered her into the wheelchair. “I hate him! I hate the universe. And I hate these shitty brats!”

“Don’t say that, Cody,” Mitchell said taking her hand and running beside the stretcher as they pushed her. “You’ll regret it later.”

“Fuck that. Any being that causes this much pain is pure evil.” She calmed down slowly. The pain must have eased some. She breathed through it, in a rhythmic fashion that Mitchell could only guess she was trained to do.

“How far apart are the contractions?” Someone asked.

“That was her first one that I know of. But it was the biggest one. And it seemed to last more than a couple of minutes. She said she was feeling pain before but only thought it was…gas.” He scrunched up his face to keep from laughing.

“Then the pain was only slight before…and not strong enough to worry about until now. Ms. Delarosa, have you had any unnatural peeing, any need to go-“

“I’m more than a month ahead of schedule, so if you’re asking me if my water broke, I can’t tell you anything other than I pee all the fucking time.”

“More than a month? Any blood or-“

“I better not have complications. I better not be, because otherwise Bailey will never get another chance. I can’t take another round of this…” Cody said even as fear streaked across her face. “I… Damn, this isn’t happening.”

“You’ll be fine, Cody. You have the best health plan in the world. Your boss, Mr. Walthour.” Mitchell grinned as they made it to the ambulance.

Cody tensed. “Mitch, call Bailey. He needs to know…and Matt…and… Gabe…” That last word was weak. She swallowed. “You’re coming with me, right?”

“Of course, I’m not leaving you alone.”

She nodded, breathing in and out. “Good. Thank you.”

They rode to the hospital, as Mitchell made the calls.

“She’s early!” Bailey sounded alarmed. “Send me the location, I’m on the way. Did anyone call Mr. Walthour?”

Walthour? Her investor? Then he remembered how she said Gabe… Was that…Gabriel Walthour? “No. She wanted me to also call Matt, but I don’t have his number.”

“Don’t worry, I’m calling everyone who needs to know now. Stay with her Mitch.”

“Definitely.”

“Thank you.” He sounded relieved.

Getting off the phone he sent a message to Dorian who replied back instantly, [On my way].

Pulling up to the ER, Mitchell cursed when he noticed the crowd of reporters outside.

“What’s going on?” Cody asked.

“Reporters.”

Cody groaned and then groaned louder as she held below her belly. Her body shook as tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Then she yelped a sound that bordered on a scream.

One of the paramedics announced. “She’s hemorrhaging…”