Safe

-19- A Win

Luke "Coach Mo" Morrison

We are getting our asses kicked.

I watch Ian steal a pass and head down to the other end.

"Get down there!" I shout. "Get down there!"

I throw my hands up exasperated, muttering to myself. This is not a game we can afford to lose.

"Coach Mo?" A timid voice sounds behind me.

I turn, Holt standing from the bench.

"What's up kid?" I ask.

"P-put me in." He says it so quietly I almost miss it as shouting erupts in the stands.

It draws my attention for a minute as I watch Ryan launch himself into the air and knock the ball from the net seconds before the other team almost gets it.

"Your ribs are broke, you're not playing." I tell him.

"Please." He presses. "Please I-I need this."

I lose immediate interest in the game, turning around to look at Holt. He shifts on his feet, dropping his head when our eyes meet.

"Please."

Rhett and Kendra will have my head if I put him in. It goes against everything I'm supposed to do as a coach. He's injured. I'm not supposed to play an injured player.

"What happens if you get hit? They're playing rough out there and the damn ref doesn't even care." I tell him.

"I won't." He says it so sure, so confident of himself I almost agree right there on the spot. "Please."

I shake my head. "I can't Holt."

"They won't touch me, I promise."

Shifting my gaze to the court, I get the pleasure of watching Paramount score on us, more specifically Ian. I smash my teeth together, muscles aching in my jaw before I blow the whistle for a time out.

The ref shouts and I wait with my hands on my hips as my team comes to me.

"Why are we letting Ian run us around like dogs?" I ask them. "This is basketball in case you forgot. You all look like you don't know what sport you're playing."

"He never played like that for us." Ryan mutters.

"That's because he's a self centered prick." Drew huffs, downing some water. "We need Holt. Fucking bastard, beat the shit out of him 'cause he's too afraid to lose."

I glance over my shoulder, Holt still standing there.

I shouldn't do this.

"Get yourself together. Get open. Stop giving them the ball." I bark.  "And don't let Ian get to Holt."

Everyone sounds at once, Drew grabs Holt by his jersey and pulls him into the circle.

"Now listen!" I demand their attention. "They're playing rough. Holt's busted. He gets hit once I'm pulling him so for the love of god start making some baskets out there."

Hands appear stacked on top of one another, they're all shouting as I look to Holt apprehensively. But his focus is on Drew.

Our time out whistle blows and they start back out to the court but not before I hear Drew say "I got your back."

Drew puts his knuckles out for Holt to fist bump and I'm shocked when Holt returns it instantly.

"Thank you Coach." Holt says as he begins to follow the rest of the guys.

I shake my head as I look to the stands where Rhett's on his feet watching us intently, I'm a terrible person.

"Don't thank me yet." I mutter. "Now get out there."

The whistle blows and I watch the ball get checked before Justice receives a pass and goes slipping through opponents like he should have been doing all along. He makes it almost all the way to the basket before a Paramount blocks him and I watch the inhuman blur that is Holt find an open pocket, launching into it as he accepts the ball and sends it straight into the net. If Rhett hadn't shown me his X-rays I wouldn't believe his rips were fractured.

I shout, fist pumping the air. Maybe we will wipe that smug look off Ian's face after all. But my celebration is cut short as commotion starts behind me. I toss a look over my shoulder seeing my assistant coach trying to hold Rhett back and I wave him on. Might as well get it over with.

"What do you think you're doing!?" He shouts at me.

"Hopefully winning in a few."

"By killing my kid? He's got broken ribs and stitches in his head!" He's nearly as red as a tomato as he comes to stand beside me.

"He wanted in." I say.

"And you listened?"

Ian's got the ball, Drew's on him, anticipating his moves as he tries to push closer to the basket. Ian fakes right, Drew falling for it for just a moment but it's all Ian needs as he darts past.

"Come on, come on." I mutter.

And just what I didn't want to have happen happens. Holt jumps in front of Ian, effectively blocking his shot but I'm certain Ian's going to pull something as he smiles at Holt and his mouth starts to move.

"Pull him out!" Rhett yells at me. "Pull him out now!"

It happens so fast I nearly miss it. Ian's toying with Holt, feeling confident as he passes the ball back and forth between his hands. But out of no where, Holt swipes the ball and is gone, flying down the court to Drew who snuck back while none of us were paying attention, Paramount included. Just like they always do in practice only the roles are reversed. The boys erupt in cheers at the sound of the ball swishing through the net.

"Look at him Rhett." I finally say.

Ian's pissed, shouting something at Holt I'm assuming as his teammates try to keep distance between them. If Holt hears him, he doesn't acknowledge it instead he meets Drew on the court. And this time when Drew slings his arm around Holt's shoulders the kid doesn't jump a mile.

"Somethings changed." I comment.

Rhett's silent beside me and when I look over he's watching Holt with a look of pride on his face.

I decide not to pull Holt. I think the kid could use a win.