I’ll be honest with you—I’m no saint. Sure, I turned down my 9.6-million-dollar football contract to join the Teams but I’ll never tell you the real reason why. The media has anointed me a selfless, patriotic American hero. But it isn’t that deep—I just want some action.
A one-night stand with a San Diego coed. I picked her out of a steamy nightclub—sexy blonde hair, full breasts, nice ass. I savored her warm touch, the scent of her perfume, and the sound of her laughter. After she rode me all night, I took in the ocean view from my condo, thankful for the blissful memories she gave me to get me through my long deployment.
I cross paths with Miss San Diego again halfway across the world in Afghanistan. Turns out she is a professional cheerleader on a patriotic tour sent to entertain my Team.
I gaze into her beautiful blue eyes and give her my word that she’s safe with me. And my word is my bond.
Then she is kidnapped.
Whoever took her, took the wrong girl. Because I will tear this country apart to find her.
I’ll never win MVP, never get a championship ring, but some heroes don’t play games.