Dream Runner Read Free Page A

The pace had a distinctive rhythm, one foot slightly lagging. A hard-breathing man from the sound of it, probably his on-again, off-again house guest. He turned to see who it was. Sure enough, Dench Traylor slugged along, steadily pickin’ ’em up and puttin’ ’em down. Struggling, the man pulled even with AJ when the bigger man slowed to accommodate him. Puffing, he put out a hand, entreating.
    AJ was surprised. Dench had always hated running and he had never made any secret of his dislike for recreational running—not even during their days of scholarship-enforced athletics. Traylor, now a Miami assistant special-team coach, wasn’t in bad shape, just not NFL prime. “You running today?”
    “Tryin’,” Dench puffed.
    The player slowed, then stopped. “You might as well know it now, Rissa’s not out here with me,” he teased. Marissa Yarborough was about the only person in the world that Dench would willingly run behind.
    “This is not about your sister, man.”
    AJ grinned when Dench stopped and sucked wind. AJ circled him, letting his cooling muscles wind themselves down. Dench Traylor shook his lowered head and held out a white envelope. “Whatcha got?” AJ grinned, slitting the envelope’s flap with a long thick finger.
    “Read it.”
    Pulling the typewritten sheet from the envelope, AJ was confused by the stiff formal paper. Didn’t that make whatever was written official? The letterhead sheet featured his team logo, and for a blank half second, he wondered why anyone from the Miami-based team would be sending him mail. Baffled, he shook the letter completely open and read it. He had to read it twice to make sure of the contents. “They’re letting me go? Just like that?” He read it again. “Just like that?”
    “Dude,” Dench said.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” AJ was hard pressed to know whether it was a comment or a criticism. He crushed the letter in his meaty hand and glared at the assistant coach.
    Finally able to breathe, Dench stood straighter and stared at the ground. “I thought you ought to know,” he said.
    Ought to know that his career was over? Know that his numbers were as high as they were ever going to go? That he would never earn a Super Bowl ring to call his own?
    Eyes on the sky, it took AJ long seconds to reply. “Yeah, but I thought that when it got to be this time…” What? They would throw me some kind of special big hints? An “over the hill” party? What? That last play of his last game unwound itself in his head again. The memory was so vivid, he almost felt the searing rip hack its way through his knee when he went down. He could hear the muted voices, as if they thought he couldn’t hear…
    He’s had a long run…
    Could be career ending…
    More than a setback…
    What if this time…
    What could anybody say that would make it any easier? He could go back to his agent, get her to find another team. That was the beauty of hiring your kid sister as your agent. She could ask for some kind of waiver that would give him… a Super Bowl ring? That rushing record I’ve run my whole life for? Or maybe I should just shut my eyes on the game, the only thing in life that has truly given me pleasure, and move on. Suck it up.
    “I didn’t want this to come as any more of a shock than it already is. They won’t make the announcement for another couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be ready when it came out.” Dench watched AJ circle him, and knew the thoughts that must be running through his mind. He had come so close over the years. Been traded twice, always up, but traded all the same. Every team promised but none fully delivered. AJ was always left hungry.
    “I always knew this wouldn’t last forever…” Even as he said it, AJ couldn’t stop himself. A lot of what he thought tended to spill from his lips. It was a bad habit, talking to himself, but it was one he had never been quite able to shake.
    Dench crossed his arms over his solid barrel of