Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
The Seals created several scoring chances, but the Hounds were there each time, redirecting the ball. It was something they were exceptionally good at. He wondered if the coach had had them work hard at it, anticipating that the Hounds would find themselves in this very situation.
The defender marking his mate was fast and fluid. She made it hard for Casey to have enough space to get off a shot. But she was nowhere near as good a player as his mate. Casey, able to go from a slow walk to a purposeful run in a second, repeatedly left the defender in the dust as she tackled, sprinted, chased, and blocked.
Casey also did a lot of subtle, simple feints that consistently fooled the Seals. As such, she almost scored four times. Sadly for her, the Seals’ goalkeeper was exceptionally good.
When another of Casey’s shots were blocked, Roni spat a vicious curse. “It’s only a matter of time before she scores so long as she keeps piling on the pressure.”
Maybe the Seals had that same thought, or maybe it had been their plan all along to wait until they were midway through the first half of the game before targeting Casey, but many of them turned their attention to her. And since the Seals were easily dominating the game, they could afford to redirect their attention that way.
Sherryl kept her distance from Casey, but the others didn’t. And as he felt a dark fury begin to build within his mate, Eli worried that it wouldn’t be long before she’d retaliate and find herself red-carded. Shit.
Picking herself up off the ground yet again, Casey wiped the grass and dirt from her hands onto her jersey. These bitches needed to burn in the ninth circle of hell.
They’d been making a nuisance of themselves since minute one. At first, they’d been happy to simply hiss little insults at her—bitch, whore, heifer, slut. Like she’d cared. The dirty bitches even spat at her, their bodies always angled in a way that prevented the ref from seeing.
Ignoring them, Casey kept on kicking, passing, heading, dribbling, and shooting. And then the Seals really got down to it. Elbows jabbed into her ribs hard. Fingers subtly pinched sensitive parts of her skin. Feet stomped on her own and grazed her legs with their heels, or “accidentally” tripped her.
Eli must have felt an echo of her pain each time she was fouled, because anger spiked down their bond again and again. That anger fed her own and intensified that of her mink, making it difficult for Casey to ignore the urge to lunge at the little bitches—which was just what the Seals wanted. Instead, she continued to play, even as several parts of her body throbbed, stung, and ached.
The baking heat only served to agitate her more. Her throat was parched, and her skin was hot and damp with sweat. She repeatedly flapped the front of her jersey, trying to cool down. She’d just love some rain right about now, but there still wasn’t a cloud in sight.
The ref would no doubt have pounced on the fouls if the Seals weren’t being so subtle. She didn’t once appeal to him. The Seals might not realize it, but they were playing into her hands. Because the more they got away with their little sneak attacks, the bolder they got—it was only a matter of time before they fucked up and a Seal got themselves sent off the field.
Also, they were paying less and less attention to the ball itself whenever they came at her; more intent on causing her pain than regaining possession of the ball. Determined to take advantage of that, she bided her time, waiting for just the right moment. Sadly, that opportunity didn’t come before the whistle blew to signal the end of the first half of the game.
As she began to walk off the field during half-time, Sherryl shouldered her hard and said quietly, “Oh, the talented Casey Frost fails to score. Then again, ‘failure’ runs in your family, doesn’t it? How is your junkie brother, by the way?”
Balling up her hands, Casey ground her teeth. She’d love to send one of her fists crashing into this heifer’s jaw. “You know, I can’t help but get the feeling that the smartest thing that ever escaped your mouth was a dick.”
Sherryl hissed, and then one of the other Seals slid between them and urged her to calm down.
Leaving them to it, Casey headed into the building. As the Hounds sat in the locker room, Dennis healed people’s wounds while Donahue gave them yet another pep talk—telling them not to lose hope, rallying their spirits, and dishing out her own brand of tough love.
Donahue then looked at Casey. “I noticed the Seals were targeting you and—”
“Taking risks that are going to backfire on them,” Casey finished. Mouth so dry it felt sticky, she gulped down water from her bottle. “Let them keep on thinking they’re being sneaky and clever. They’ll slip up.”