Defend Me

Prologue

Blake's Point of View
Another hit to the chest, caused me to fall over. I groaned in pain. Anger radiated off of me as I got up. I stared back at my offensive line. They were not doing their job. They were supposed to be protecting me from these hits, not allowing them to happen!

"What the hell is going on!" I shouted. My team stared back at me as I pulled my helmet off. "I am done with this."

"Tyler! Get your ass back on the field." My coach screamed. His rage beat mine, making me change my mind about leaving. I grunted before shoving my head back into the blue and white helmet. "Now, run that play again and protect your damn quarterback!"

Everyone retook their positions. I crouched behind the snapper, feeling my rage start to accumulate. I wanted to get out of here. I needed a drink. I called for the ball, feeling it placed into my hands. Taking a step back, I looked for an open receiver. I spotted Carlos. I swung my hand back, only never being able to throw the ball.

I was smacked down to the floor again. I growled. The pain increasing as I laid there. I let out a growl before getting up. I ripped my helmet off and marched off the field. All eyes were on me as I exited the field. But I really didn't care, I was done with this practice. I wasn't going to make an effort if they weren't going to protect me. It was useless.

Walking down the hallway, I found my best friend waiting for me. I only narrowed my eyes at him, daring him to say a word. He let out a sigh, letting me continue my journey. He knew better than to argue with me when I was angry.

I pushed open the door to the locker room, making my way to my locker. I threw my helmet and shoulder pads in, pulling on a hoodie and jeans. I slipped my Nikes on and then grabbed my black duffel bag of dirty practice clothes and turned around, bumping into Asher.

"Blake." Asher said in a warning tone. I glared at him, feeling like tearing his face apart. All I wanted was to go to some club and drink unlimited amounts of liquor. I didn't want to be told what to do. I never have and I never will. "Listen to me. You can't do that."

"I can do whatever the fuck I want." I told him. I hiked the bag up my shoulder and exited the locker room. Asher was hot on my tail. He was not going to let me leave his sight.

"Blake! If you get caught one more time, you will be sent to jail. I'm warning you. Coach will not be happy to lose his starting quarterback because of one stupid mistake." Asher reminded me. I wanted to punch that knowing ass face but I couldn't. He was my agent and my best friend. Besides, he was dating my twin sister. They were bound to be getting married soon. I couldn't hurt him. Sophie would kill me.

"Ash, I got this. Just let me relax, please." I pleaded my best friend. Asher sighed, giving me a disappointed look. I smirked, knowing I changed his mind. Walking out of the building, I quickly found my silver Range Rover and turned the key in the ignition. Roaring to life, I pulled out of my spot and drove home. I needed to shower if I was going to go out and drink. After all, girls do not like smelly boys.

-

I took another shot, not feeling the burn as it slid down my throat. I slammed the glass on the table before sticking my tongue down some girl's throat. Enjoying the way it felt, I grabbed her ass. She moaned in my hold. I was ready to continue it, only stopping when I felt my phone vibrating.

With an annoyed sigh, I took the phone out of my pocket and saw that it was already three in the morning. Suddenly feeling tired, I ignored the call and said bye to the girls I was with. They pouted and tried to get me to stay, but I knew if I did, I would not make it to practice in the morning. I couldn't risk angering Coach more than he already was. I quickly found my valet ticket in my pocket and exited the club. Handing the ticket to the valet guy, my car was driven up next to me. I hopped in and sped off. I revved my engine, not caring about the speed I was going. 

All I knew was that I wanted to get home, into bed. Today took a toll on me and I hated it. I hated that my coach expected so much from me and didn't give me what I deserved. The New York Giants would be nothing without me. All I want is for some recognition to occur. Maybe then, I wouldn't be so angry at my failing offensive line. Who knows, we may even win a Super Bowl.

I was quickly blinded by red and blue flashing lights in my rearview mirror. I groaned before speeding up. Maybe I could lose them. I could not afford to get pulled over. Coach would definitely find out then.

Turning a corner, I saw the cops still on my tail. I hit my steering wheel in frustration, letting out a groan, before pulling over into a parking lot. Parking my car, I let out another frustrated groaned. I hadn't done anything wrong. So what if I was speeding, it was only like ten miles over the limit. I wasn't a hazard to anyone. No one was even on this street. Didn't the cop have better people to pull over?

I saw the cop get our of his white Tahoe. He looked angry. I bet he was mad that I wouldn't pull over at first, but come on, I didn't do anything wrong! I watched as he placed his hand over his gun as if he was taking precaution. He's got to be kidding.

"Sir, I am going to ask you to exit the vehicle." I heard the cop say outside my window. His mouth was formed into a frown. His eyes watching me frantically. I rolled my eyes before opening the door. The cop stepped back and inspected me. His hand continued over his gun holster. I opened my door stumbled out of the car, not knowing what just happened. I wasn't drunk. I only had a few drinks. Why did I lose my footing? "Sir, have you been drinking tonight?"

"I only had a few before I decided I needed to go home." I told him honestly. There was nothing wrong with having some fun. Everyone does it.

"Can you walk in a straight line for me?" The police asked. I restricted myself from rolling my eyes and did as I was told. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. I stepped one foot in front of the other, walking in what I thought was a straight line. The cop only narrowed his eyes at me.

"May I go now?" I asked frustrated. My coach was going to kill him if he found out I was pulled over. We had practice in just a couple of hours. Just that thought made my head begin to pound.

"Can you please blow into this device?" The cop said shoving the breathalyzer into my face. I narrowed me eyes at the cop before taking the device from him. With a new found anger, I blew into it. The police than took it from me, inspecting the reading. "Sir, you will have to come with me."

"Why? I'm not drunk. Just let me go home." I argued, but I knew what this meant. The cop quickly took my wrists, snapping handcuffs onto me. I was now livid at myself and life. Asher was going to kill me if Coach doesn't do it first. This was my third DUI in less than a year and I knew that there was nothing that I could do to get out of it. All I could do was hope and pray Asher could get me out of this one.