Trying to beat the allegations.
We know Zane not about to date a Nubian queen.Cam a little bitch boy. Someone need to knock his ass out.
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Captain Canada
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This ain't a Soapy production brudda.
First I can't beat the allegations and now my protagonist can't either? Cold world we live in
My boy needs a coming to Jesus moment.
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Soapy
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getting marked out by Brice is a tough look for Cam
time for him to head to Michigan and reunited with Zane...Central Michigan that is
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8018
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(2-3, 0-2 ACC) 
@
(2-3, 1-0 ACC)
@(2-3, 1-0 ACC)Stout run game, continued red-hot start from Jones has Orange over Cavaliers
‣ Running back Yasin Willis had the Cavaliers' defense in a bind with his smooth running while powering Syracuse to a conference victory.
‣ Running back Yasin Willis had the Cavaliers' defense in a bind with his smooth running while powering Syracuse to a conference victory.
Score
| FINAL | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | T |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Syracuse | 7 | 7 | 7 | 10 | 31 |
| Virginia | 0 | 7 | 0 | 7 | 14 |
Scoring Summary
1st Quarter
(6:31) Zane Jones, 58-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 7 - 0 UVA]2nd Quarter
(10:28) Ajani Sheppard, 37-yard run (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 14 - 0 UVA]
(3:13) M.J. Morris, 2-yard run (Wade Foster kick) [CUSE 14 - 7 UVA]3rd Quarter
(7:19) Yasin Willis, 1-yard run (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 21 - 7 UVA]4th Quarter
(8:49) Suderian Harrison, 45-yard pass from M.J. Morris (Wade Foster kick) [CUSE 21 - 14 UVA] (5:02) Jaydn Oh, 34-yard field goal [CUSE 24 - 14 UVA] (2:34) Yasin Willis, 1-yard run (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 31 - 14 UVA]Team Statistics
QB Ajani Sheppard: 25-36, 269 passing yards, touchdown, 9 carries, 30 rushing yards, touchdown QB M.J. Morris: 15-39, 195 passing yards, touchdown, interception, rushing touchdown HB Yasin Willis: 21 carries, 86 rushing yards, 2 touchdowns HB Malachi James: 6 carries, 16 rushing yards HB Chuck McGee: 9 carries, 46 rushing yards HB Camerun Knox: 7 carries, 18 rushing yards WR Zane Jones: 9 catches, 147 receiving yards, touchdown WR Jaedn Skeete: 8 catches, 83 receiving yards WR Darien Williams: 2 catches, 22 receiving yards WR Johntay Cook II: 1 catch, 8 receiving yards WR Suderian Harrison: 5 catches, 88 receiving yards, touchdown TE Thomas Jewett: 8 catches, 84 receiving yards WR Brady Kluse: 1 catch, 12 receiving yards CB Demetres Samuel Jr: 6 tackles, interception CB Greg Delaine: 7 tackles, pass breakup DT Rashard Perry: 3 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, 2 sacks EDGE David Omopariola: 4 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, sack MIKE Kam Robinson: 17 tackles, 5 tackles for loss, sack, pass breakup CB Ja'Maric Morris: 8 tackles, tackle for loss, pass breakup EDGE Dawann Terrell: 3 tackles, tackle for loss, sack DT Jason Hammond: 5 tackles, tackle for loss, 0.5 sack, pass breakup
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Captain Canada
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Glad the QB actually found me this time
He ain't walking through them doors this time
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8018
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Season V | Chapter XIII - Element
Rasheed sat in one of the stiff visitor’s chairs flanking Mariah’s hospital bed, his large frame seeming almost too heavy for the cheap plastic beneath him. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale coffee, the steady beeping of monitors filling the quiet gaps between conversation.
It was his first time visiting since Mariah had woken up and told him she wanted to help him find Tom herself instead of going through the police.
She looked better.
Not healthy exactly, but better.
The meek corpse-like woman he had glimpsed weeks ago after sneaking into the hospital to meet Heather was beginning to disappear. Solid food had started filling her frame back out. Color had slowly begun returning to her skin. There was more life in her eyes now, even if fear still lingered behind them constantly like a shadow she couldn’t shake.
Before entering the room, Heather had quietly warned him in the hallway that Mariah still suffered from night terrors and that her energy drained quickly.
Rasheed had nodded in understanding.
Now, sitting across from her, he could see exactly what Heather meant.
Mariah had perked up immediately when he entered the room earlier, her posture straightening slightly the moment she saw him. It was almost as if his presence reminded her that this situation had become real in a way the police never fully represented.
Serious. Dangerous. Permanent.
The room had settled into silence for a few moments before Mariah finally spoke again.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Again. For dragging this onto you.”
Rasheed shook his head slowly. A few long dreads had slipped loose from the hair tie behind his head, swaying slightly in front of his face as he moved.
“What I gotta do and what you went through ain’t connected except for that man,” he said evenly.
Mariah nodded faintly.
Rasheed leaned further back into the chair, clasping his hands together over his stomach before asking the question that had clearly been sitting in his mind since arriving.
“Why not just trust the feds?”
Heather looked over at him curiously.
Rasheed continued before either woman could answer. “If you know where he at,” he said, “it ain’t much chance they don’t catch him eventually.”
Mariah’s expression changed immediately. Her eyes shut tightly, like she could physically see the memories replaying in real time behind her eyelids.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded smaller.
“When I left Tom the last time…” she began slowly, “it wasn’t the first time he hurt me.”
The room grew still. “He was ex-military,” she continued. “After his last tour, he came home different.”
Her breathing became shallower as she spoke. “He went from abrasive to controlling. From aggressive to violent.”
Heather quietly reached over and took hold of her daughter’s hand.
Mariah swallowed hard.
“I used to fight back,” she admitted. “I used to tell him off. Stand up for myself.”
A humorless laugh escaped her throat. “That got stupid pretty fast.”
Rasheed remained motionless, listening carefully.
“I left him before,” she said. “A couple times. I even moved back in with my mom for a while.”
Heather’s face tightened painfully at the memory.
“But he always knew exactly what to say,” Mariah whispered. “He’d apologize. Cry. Promise he changed. Promise he was getting help.”
She stared blankly toward the hospital window now. “And every time… I believed him.”
The silence afterward felt heavy. Then her voice cracked.
“He put me in the hospital once before.”
Rasheed’s jaw tightened subtly.
“Cracked orbital bone. Concussion. Looked at the aftermath of a one-sided UFC cage match”
Heather closed her eyes.
“The police arrested him.”
Mariah’s hands slowly curled into fists atop the blanket covering her lap. The whites of her knuckles became visible instantly.
“He got out after a few days,” she said bitterly. “I still don’t even understand how.”
Rasheed breathed quietly through his nose.
“One day,” she continued shakily, “I came home and found my cat dead.”
Heather looked away immediately.
“Butchered.” The word hung horribly in the room.
“My office started getting threatening messages from unknown numbers,” Mariah continued. “Eventually they fired me just to wash their hands of the whole thing.”
Her chest rose and fell unevenly now. Finally, she looked directly at Rasheed. There were tears in her eyes.
Real fear. Not panic. Not hysteria. The cold certainty of someone who understood exactly what kind of monster they were dealing with.
Heather squeezed her daughter’s shoulder gently, trying to steady her. Mariah’s voice trembled.
“He’ll never stop.” Tears slipped down her cheeks now freely.
“He’s going to kill me. I’m still shocked he didn’t get it done this time.”
Rasheed closed his eyes. His clasped hands tightened together slowly, almost like a silent prayer. Or maybe restraint.
The room remained completely still around him.
Then he opened his eyes again. His gaze rose to meet hers.
“Where is he?”
Zane had an extra pep in his step as he walked through campus on his way back to his condo from his World Politics class. Syracuse had managed to pull out a much-needed ACC victory against Virginia over the weekend, and the win had lightened something inside him, even if only temporarily.
The trip to Charlottesville had been short but sweet.
For once, the offense had looked synchronized. Sharp. Alive.
Tempers had started boiling over during the last few weeks, especially after the brutal beatdown Pittsburgh had handed them. Zane had felt it in every practice rep afterward. Guys snapping at each other. Coaches screaming themselves hoarse. Frustration lingering in the locker room like humidity.
And honestly? He understood it.
He could feel the restlessness settling into his own bones too. He was tired of losing.
Coach Brown constantly preached about building a culture that hated losing, but lately it felt like he was screaming into a void. Some guys were still half-assing drills in practice. Still showing up late to meetings. Still mentally resigned to the idea that Syracuse would never actually become a legitimate College Football Playoff contender.
It felt like Coach Brown was talking to players who had already put their headphones back in.
Still, beating Virginia had eased the pressure somewhat. For now.
Fall had settled over Syracuse fully now. The leaves coating campus had begun changing from vibrant green into bursts of orange, yellow, and deep crimson. The air carried a sharp bite that lingered against Zane’s skin every time the wind swept through the quad. It wasn’t freezing yet, but it was coming.
Zane walked past the cafe near campus and slowed slightly. He contemplated continuing home. Then shrugged to himself and ducked inside.
The cafe was surprisingly quiet. He must have caught it between rushes because only a handful of students occupied the scattered tables, most of them buried beneath laptops and notebooks while soft music played overhead.
Zane glanced toward the register area and spotted her immediately.
Marie stood behind the counter cleaning up a spilled coffee with focused diligence. Her long black braids were tied back loosely today, framing her soft but striking features perfectly.
She looked up. Recognition flickered instantly across her face.
Then came the smile.
“You look like a lost puppy, meandering on in here,” she said.
Zane smirked immediately, shrugging deeply.
“I was just minding my business,” he replied. “Making my way home. Thought maybe I’d pick up a nice coffee before I disappear into my condo for the rest of the day.”
Marie nodded dramatically, pretending to completely buy the explanation.
“Mhm,” she hummed. Her light brown eyes locked onto him intensely.
She leaned forward onto the counter, elbows planted against the surface.
“What are you really doing here?”
Zane breathed deeply for a moment. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising slightly toward his ears as nerves suddenly crept up his spine.
Then he asked quietly: “When’s your shift done?”
Marie’s eyebrows rose instantly. She glanced sideways toward the iPad screen sitting beside the register before looking back at him.
“About seven minutes.”
Zane smiled softly.
“Would you wanna go for a walk with me?” he asked. “Get to know each other a little?”
Marie straightened immediately, pressing one manicured hand dramatically against her chest.
“Are you asking me out, sir?” she asked in an exaggerated Southern accent.
Zane looked upward toward the ceiling, laughing under his breath before meeting her eyes again.
“I sure am, Miss, ” he confirmed, matching her accent with an attempt of his own.
Marie’s smile turned genuine then. She nodded emphatically before turning toward the back room.
“Well,” she called over her shoulder, “go take a seat while I punch out.”
Zane watched her disappear through the back doorway before finally exhaling the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
His heart hammered violently against his chest as he walked toward an empty table nearby and sat down to wait.
…
Zane peered over at Marie as they walked side by side through the dimly lit Syracuse campus, really taking her in for the first time now that they weren’t separated by a counter or awkward first impressions.
She had a tall, slender frame, though she was still noticeably shorter than him. Light blue jeans hugged her legs, disappearing into a pair of soft brown moccasin boots that crunched lightly against the scattered fall leaves beneath their feet. Over her work uniform, she had thrown on an oversized black hoodie that swallowed her frame almost completely, the sleeves hanging past her wrists.
She smelled sweet. Not overpowering. Just enough perfume to somehow survive an entire shift of steaming milk and brewing espresso. It lingered every time the wind shifted between them.
Marie had spent the first few minutes of their walk explaining that she was in her second year of her undergraduate degree, studying Law. She told him she had picked up the cafe job during the second semester of her freshman year after realizing her academic scholarship only stretched so far.
“Turns out books and groceries don’t really care if you got honors grades,” she had joked.
Zane nodded in understanding.
He knew enough about struggling for money to recognize it immediately in other people, even when they joked about it.
“So what kinda law you tryna get into?” he asked.
Marie answered almost immediately.
“Criminal, for sure. I want to be a defense attorney.”
There wasn’t hesitation in her voice either. It caught his attention.
She shoved her hands into the pocket of her hoodie as they walked.
“I wanna help the little guy,” she explained. “Get people outta sticky situations.”
Zane nodded slowly. He couldn’t help think of his own situation back home for a moment before pushing those thoughts back down.
“That’s solid.”
Marie tilted her head slightly.
“I’m still kinda on the fence about it though,” she admitted. “But I remember watching-”
She stopped abruptly. Zane glanced sideways at her.
“What?”
Marie shook her head immediately.
“Nope.”
“What?”
She groaned softly. “I can’t expose how much of a nerd I am this early.”
Zane physically stopped walking.
Marie took another step before noticing and turning back toward him.
He stared at her expectantly. Waiting.
Marie sighed dramatically, a sheepish smile already burned onto her face.
“I wanted to be like Matt Murdock,” she admitted.
Zane blinked once. Then twice.
“Like… Daredevil Matt Murdock?” he asked. “From Marvel?”
Marie nodded slowly now, nervous amusement written all over her face.
Zane burst out laughing immediately. A real laugh. Loud enough that a couple passing students glanced over briefly.
Marie groaned and punched him lightly in the chest. “You’re supposed to create a safe space for me,” she complained.
Zane kept laughing.
“So lemme get this straight,” he said between chuckles. “You based your entire career path on wanting to be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”
Marie shook her head stubbornly, refusing to answer now.
That only made Zane laugh harder.
“If I see you standing on the corner of a rooftop,” he said, wiping at his eye dramatically, “I’m calling the cops.”
Marie rolled her eyes and kept walking, laughing despite herself.
Zane hurried after her.
The tension that usually lived in his chest lately felt lighter around her somehow. Easy.
Marie glanced up at him after a moment.
“So do you play for the football team or something?”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
Marie shrugged casually.
“Two outta the three times I’ve seen you, you were wearing Syracuse football stuff,” she explained. “So either you on the team or you just an extremely dedicated fan.”
Zane snorted quietly. He made a mental note that maybe he needed to go clothes shopping.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m on the team.”
Marie nodded slowly.
“You any good?”
Zane smiled to himself before tilting his head upward behind her.
“You could say that.”
Marie frowned slightly before turning around to follow his eyeline. Mounted against the side of one of the campus buildings behind them was a massive Syracuse football poster.
And right in the center of it was Zane himself midair, fully extended while hauling in a highlight catch beneath bright stadium lights.
Marie turned back toward him slowly.
A smile spread across her face instantly.
“Oh,” she said softly. “I see.”
The frustration on Zane’s face wasn’t even attempted to be hidden as the roars continued burrowing down onto the Syracuse sideline from Kenan Memorial Stadium. The North Carolina Tar Heels were hanging on to a narrow 24-20 lead.
Sweat lined Zane’s brow line as he stalked the chalked sideline, watching the defense trying to give the team one more possession before time ran out in the fourth quarter. The other members of the sideline had grown to know not to do anything to him when he had gotten into one of these moods. Coaches would pat him on the shoulder pads, but he was steaming angry.
“Four fucking interceptions,” he muttered to himself, his hands on his hips as he gazed behind him to the benches where Ajani was surrounded by coaches, studying iPads to get a read on what was going on out there.
Zane had put on the performance of his life in the second half after an admittedly poor effort in the first half. There were about two or three balls he definitely should have reeled in, even a deep, jump ball that had gone under video review early in the first quarter that was ultimately ruled to be incomplete.
Bill Belichick’s defense was proving to be stout. They ran their assignments to a tee - continuing to throw different look after different look. They had left Syracuse’s offense completely discombobulated. Timing was thrown for a loop. Factor in the offensive line’s inability to stop a cold, and Ajani had been left for the wolves.
The whistle shrilled through Zane’s recollection of how the game had gone as he watched North Carolina’s offense scurry off the field after failing to convert on third-and-long. The Syracuse defense had managed to hold up one last time. Zane took a peek up at the scoreboard.
43 seconds.
They needed a score. Zane picked up his helmet from between his feet and made his way over to the offense. Jaedn and Johntay had a look on their faces that matched his own. They smelled the opportunity to make it out of here with a win. With a nod, they awaited the punt return unit to field the punt.
…
“This Syracuse offense has been a tale of two halves here, haven’t they?”
“Oh for sure! You saw an offense in disarray in the first half, especially from quarterback Ajani Sheppard with all of the interceptions. Jontay Cook II was largely ineffective, and even Zane Jones was dropping balls that he ordinarily makes.”
“And even still, here they are with an opportunity to steal one down here in Chapel Hill.”
…
Second-and-10 and Zane was lined up wide to the left, just inside of the numbers. He scanned up and noticed the defense is essentially in a prevent defense look. The cornerback was playing ten yards off; their posture pivoted in to see what was going on in the backfield.
“Keep us covered until the pass rush can get home again” Zane thought to himself. He knew he had to fly to get on top of the coverage to even give Ajani the chance to throw one up. Johntay was on the opposite side, certainly thinking the same thing.
Ajani snapped the ball and Zane burst out of his stance, trying to gain as much ground as quickly as he could. All his eyes could see was green blurring past him before he raised his head, seeing the safety flying over to bracket him over top. He knew Jaedn on the inside would be getting bracketed as well by the nickel and an expanding backer.
He had a step on the cornerback and looked up to see the ball descending from the Heavens, a smidge underthrown. He stuttered his steps slightly to size up the jump ball, feeling hands gripping at him from all angles. He tried to grind through the contact to give himself the best shot of coming down with the ball, but he could hardly jump, feeling the ball barely make contact with his shoulder pad before falling innocently to the turf.
The crumple of orange and baby blue jerseys falling to the ground hit with a thud with Zane trying to orient himself. He knew he didn’t have the ball, but all he could hope was for something he hadn’t gotten in a long time.
He looked up and his breath hitched as he found the yellow garment on the turf, the referee waving in his direction.
“About fucking time” Zane screamed, clapping his hands with such fervor it caught the attention of the Tar Heel defenders. They immediately began beckoning for the referee’s attention to plead their cases but it would be falling on deaf ears.
…
“Zane Jones was mauled down there for that deep ball, and they are certainly going to get one of the three Tar Heels for defensive pass interference!”
“The Orange are going to catch a nice break with that one, and with three timeouts remaining in the dying seconds here in the fourth quarter? Hang on to your seats, ladies and gentlemen.”
…
Eight seconds remained as the Syracuse Orange held one last huddle, the ball on their own 40-yard-line. Zane and Johntay were still breathing heavily after running deep routes, both leaning into the huddle to hear the play call.
“Yo, run the exact same play!” Zane barked, still trying to talk while he was breathing through his nose, trying to bring his heart rate down as quickly as he could.
“That’s not the fucking call, man. Listen to Coach,” Ajani spat back, giving him a quick look before reading off the play call.
“Man, fuck that play. That nigga ain’t out here. They’re going to play it inverted because they think you can’t make the throw. They think we’re going to play some funny shit. Heave that bitch. I’m going to be open.”
“Run the fucking route you’re supposed to run, man” Ajani barked as he clapped to collapse the huddle.
“Nigga, throw me the fucking ball or we’re leaving you in this fucking state.” Zane demanded before running to his spot out to Ajani’s left.
The cornerback still played off-man by about 10 or 11 yards, his eyes stared daggers into the backfield. Zane had known what was coming. It was a coverage they had played about two or three plays ago, and he remembered just how open Jaedn had been. Ajani had been hit on the throw, and Zane was convinced he still hadn’t seen it.
All he could pray for was that he saw it this time.
…
“Sheppard takes the snap, looks right, looks back left. Jones is WIDE OPEN!. He’s going to score! I can’t tell you what this Tar Heels’ defense was thinking with that coverage! Syracuse is going to take the lead with only one second remaining on the clock. You can hear a pin drop in this stadium”
“The Orange are going to walk this thing off! Can you believe it?!”
Score
Scoring Summary
1st Quarter
(8:32) Fran Brown Jr., 32-yard returned fumble (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 7 - 0 UNC]
(4:42) Jake Johnson, 20-yard pass from Gio Lopez (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 7 - 7 UNC]
2nd Quarter
(9:56) Jaydn Oh, 27-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 7 UNC]
(1:13) Eric Foote, 45-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 10 UNC]
3rd Quarter
(5:04) Gio Lopez, 4-yard run (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 10 - 17 UNC]
4th Quarter
(9:51) Zane Jones, 56-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 17 - 17 UNC]
(6:33) Jaydn Oh, 36-yard field goal [CUSE 20 - 17 UNC]
(0:40) Jake Johnson, 1-yard pass from Gio Lopez (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 20 - 24 UNC]
(0:00) Zane Jones, 60-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 27 - 24 UNC]
Team Statistics
QB Ajani Sheppard: 25-45, 324 passing yards, 2 touchdowns, 4 interceptions
QB Gio Lopez: 22-38, 204 passing yards, 2 touchdowns
HB Yasin Willis: 11 carries, 56 rushing yards, 2 catches, 10 receiving yards
HB Malachi James: 8 carries, 8 rushing yards
HB Braylen Russell: 13 carries, 100 rushing yards
HB Josh Hagans: 6 carries, 15 rushing yards, 3 catches, 16 receiving yards
WR Zane Jones: 8 catches, 168 receiving yards, 2 touchdowns
WR Johntay Cook II: 9 catches, 80 receiving yards
WR Jaedn Skeete: 3 catches, 35 receiving yards
TE Daunte Bacheyie: 2 catches, 21 receiving yards
WR Ben Black: 8 catches, 75 receiving yards
WR Jordan Shipp: 4 catches, 43 receiving yards
WR Noah Rogers: 4 catches, 39 receiving yards
EDGE David Omopariola: 6 tackles, 4 tackles for loss, 2.5 sacks
EDGE Isaiah Hastings: 4 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, 1.5 sacks
MIKE Fran Brown Jr: 6 tackles, forced fumble, fumble recovery, touchdown
CB Demetres Samuel: 8 tackles
SAM Melvin Winborn: 10 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, sack, 2 pass breakup
MIKE Timir Hickman-Collins: 8 tackles, interception
SS Malcolm Ziglar: 3 tackles, interception, 2 pass breakups
EDGE Isaac Walker: 6 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, sack
Rasheed sat in one of the stiff visitor’s chairs flanking Mariah’s hospital bed, his large frame seeming almost too heavy for the cheap plastic beneath him. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale coffee, the steady beeping of monitors filling the quiet gaps between conversation.
It was his first time visiting since Mariah had woken up and told him she wanted to help him find Tom herself instead of going through the police.
She looked better.
Not healthy exactly, but better.
The meek corpse-like woman he had glimpsed weeks ago after sneaking into the hospital to meet Heather was beginning to disappear. Solid food had started filling her frame back out. Color had slowly begun returning to her skin. There was more life in her eyes now, even if fear still lingered behind them constantly like a shadow she couldn’t shake.
Before entering the room, Heather had quietly warned him in the hallway that Mariah still suffered from night terrors and that her energy drained quickly.
Rasheed had nodded in understanding.
Now, sitting across from her, he could see exactly what Heather meant.
Mariah had perked up immediately when he entered the room earlier, her posture straightening slightly the moment she saw him. It was almost as if his presence reminded her that this situation had become real in a way the police never fully represented.
Serious. Dangerous. Permanent.
The room had settled into silence for a few moments before Mariah finally spoke again.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Again. For dragging this onto you.”
Rasheed shook his head slowly. A few long dreads had slipped loose from the hair tie behind his head, swaying slightly in front of his face as he moved.
“What I gotta do and what you went through ain’t connected except for that man,” he said evenly.
Mariah nodded faintly.
Rasheed leaned further back into the chair, clasping his hands together over his stomach before asking the question that had clearly been sitting in his mind since arriving.
“Why not just trust the feds?”
Heather looked over at him curiously.
Rasheed continued before either woman could answer. “If you know where he at,” he said, “it ain’t much chance they don’t catch him eventually.”
Mariah’s expression changed immediately. Her eyes shut tightly, like she could physically see the memories replaying in real time behind her eyelids.
When she spoke again, her voice sounded smaller.
“When I left Tom the last time…” she began slowly, “it wasn’t the first time he hurt me.”
The room grew still. “He was ex-military,” she continued. “After his last tour, he came home different.”
Her breathing became shallower as she spoke. “He went from abrasive to controlling. From aggressive to violent.”
Heather quietly reached over and took hold of her daughter’s hand.
Mariah swallowed hard.
“I used to fight back,” she admitted. “I used to tell him off. Stand up for myself.”
A humorless laugh escaped her throat. “That got stupid pretty fast.”
Rasheed remained motionless, listening carefully.
“I left him before,” she said. “A couple times. I even moved back in with my mom for a while.”
Heather’s face tightened painfully at the memory.
“But he always knew exactly what to say,” Mariah whispered. “He’d apologize. Cry. Promise he changed. Promise he was getting help.”
She stared blankly toward the hospital window now. “And every time… I believed him.”
The silence afterward felt heavy. Then her voice cracked.
“He put me in the hospital once before.”
Rasheed’s jaw tightened subtly.
“Cracked orbital bone. Concussion. Looked at the aftermath of a one-sided UFC cage match”
Heather closed her eyes.
“The police arrested him.”
Mariah’s hands slowly curled into fists atop the blanket covering her lap. The whites of her knuckles became visible instantly.
“He got out after a few days,” she said bitterly. “I still don’t even understand how.”
Rasheed breathed quietly through his nose.
“One day,” she continued shakily, “I came home and found my cat dead.”
Heather looked away immediately.
“Butchered.” The word hung horribly in the room.
“My office started getting threatening messages from unknown numbers,” Mariah continued. “Eventually they fired me just to wash their hands of the whole thing.”
Her chest rose and fell unevenly now. Finally, she looked directly at Rasheed. There were tears in her eyes.
Real fear. Not panic. Not hysteria. The cold certainty of someone who understood exactly what kind of monster they were dealing with.
Heather squeezed her daughter’s shoulder gently, trying to steady her. Mariah’s voice trembled.
“He’ll never stop.” Tears slipped down her cheeks now freely.
“He’s going to kill me. I’m still shocked he didn’t get it done this time.”
Rasheed closed his eyes. His clasped hands tightened together slowly, almost like a silent prayer. Or maybe restraint.
The room remained completely still around him.
Then he opened his eyes again. His gaze rose to meet hers.
“Where is he?”
***
Zane had an extra pep in his step as he walked through campus on his way back to his condo from his World Politics class. Syracuse had managed to pull out a much-needed ACC victory against Virginia over the weekend, and the win had lightened something inside him, even if only temporarily.
The trip to Charlottesville had been short but sweet.
For once, the offense had looked synchronized. Sharp. Alive.
Tempers had started boiling over during the last few weeks, especially after the brutal beatdown Pittsburgh had handed them. Zane had felt it in every practice rep afterward. Guys snapping at each other. Coaches screaming themselves hoarse. Frustration lingering in the locker room like humidity.
And honestly? He understood it.
He could feel the restlessness settling into his own bones too. He was tired of losing.
Coach Brown constantly preached about building a culture that hated losing, but lately it felt like he was screaming into a void. Some guys were still half-assing drills in practice. Still showing up late to meetings. Still mentally resigned to the idea that Syracuse would never actually become a legitimate College Football Playoff contender.
It felt like Coach Brown was talking to players who had already put their headphones back in.
Still, beating Virginia had eased the pressure somewhat. For now.
Fall had settled over Syracuse fully now. The leaves coating campus had begun changing from vibrant green into bursts of orange, yellow, and deep crimson. The air carried a sharp bite that lingered against Zane’s skin every time the wind swept through the quad. It wasn’t freezing yet, but it was coming.
Zane walked past the cafe near campus and slowed slightly. He contemplated continuing home. Then shrugged to himself and ducked inside.
The cafe was surprisingly quiet. He must have caught it between rushes because only a handful of students occupied the scattered tables, most of them buried beneath laptops and notebooks while soft music played overhead.
Zane glanced toward the register area and spotted her immediately.
Marie stood behind the counter cleaning up a spilled coffee with focused diligence. Her long black braids were tied back loosely today, framing her soft but striking features perfectly.
She looked up. Recognition flickered instantly across her face.
Then came the smile.
“You look like a lost puppy, meandering on in here,” she said.
Zane smirked immediately, shrugging deeply.
“I was just minding my business,” he replied. “Making my way home. Thought maybe I’d pick up a nice coffee before I disappear into my condo for the rest of the day.”
Marie nodded dramatically, pretending to completely buy the explanation.
“Mhm,” she hummed. Her light brown eyes locked onto him intensely.
She leaned forward onto the counter, elbows planted against the surface.
“What are you really doing here?”
Zane breathed deeply for a moment. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders rising slightly toward his ears as nerves suddenly crept up his spine.
Then he asked quietly: “When’s your shift done?”
Marie’s eyebrows rose instantly. She glanced sideways toward the iPad screen sitting beside the register before looking back at him.
“About seven minutes.”
Zane smiled softly.
“Would you wanna go for a walk with me?” he asked. “Get to know each other a little?”
Marie straightened immediately, pressing one manicured hand dramatically against her chest.
“Are you asking me out, sir?” she asked in an exaggerated Southern accent.
Zane looked upward toward the ceiling, laughing under his breath before meeting her eyes again.
“I sure am, Miss, ” he confirmed, matching her accent with an attempt of his own.
Marie’s smile turned genuine then. She nodded emphatically before turning toward the back room.
“Well,” she called over her shoulder, “go take a seat while I punch out.”
Zane watched her disappear through the back doorway before finally exhaling the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
His heart hammered violently against his chest as he walked toward an empty table nearby and sat down to wait.
…
Zane peered over at Marie as they walked side by side through the dimly lit Syracuse campus, really taking her in for the first time now that they weren’t separated by a counter or awkward first impressions.
She had a tall, slender frame, though she was still noticeably shorter than him. Light blue jeans hugged her legs, disappearing into a pair of soft brown moccasin boots that crunched lightly against the scattered fall leaves beneath their feet. Over her work uniform, she had thrown on an oversized black hoodie that swallowed her frame almost completely, the sleeves hanging past her wrists.
She smelled sweet. Not overpowering. Just enough perfume to somehow survive an entire shift of steaming milk and brewing espresso. It lingered every time the wind shifted between them.
Marie had spent the first few minutes of their walk explaining that she was in her second year of her undergraduate degree, studying Law. She told him she had picked up the cafe job during the second semester of her freshman year after realizing her academic scholarship only stretched so far.
“Turns out books and groceries don’t really care if you got honors grades,” she had joked.
Zane nodded in understanding.
He knew enough about struggling for money to recognize it immediately in other people, even when they joked about it.
“So what kinda law you tryna get into?” he asked.
Marie answered almost immediately.
“Criminal, for sure. I want to be a defense attorney.”
There wasn’t hesitation in her voice either. It caught his attention.
She shoved her hands into the pocket of her hoodie as they walked.
“I wanna help the little guy,” she explained. “Get people outta sticky situations.”
Zane nodded slowly. He couldn’t help think of his own situation back home for a moment before pushing those thoughts back down.
“That’s solid.”
Marie tilted her head slightly.
“I’m still kinda on the fence about it though,” she admitted. “But I remember watching-”
She stopped abruptly. Zane glanced sideways at her.
“What?”
Marie shook her head immediately.
“Nope.”
“What?”
She groaned softly. “I can’t expose how much of a nerd I am this early.”
Zane physically stopped walking.
Marie took another step before noticing and turning back toward him.
He stared at her expectantly. Waiting.
Marie sighed dramatically, a sheepish smile already burned onto her face.
“I wanted to be like Matt Murdock,” she admitted.
Zane blinked once. Then twice.
“Like… Daredevil Matt Murdock?” he asked. “From Marvel?”
Marie nodded slowly now, nervous amusement written all over her face.
Zane burst out laughing immediately. A real laugh. Loud enough that a couple passing students glanced over briefly.
Marie groaned and punched him lightly in the chest. “You’re supposed to create a safe space for me,” she complained.
Zane kept laughing.
“So lemme get this straight,” he said between chuckles. “You based your entire career path on wanting to be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”
Marie shook her head stubbornly, refusing to answer now.
That only made Zane laugh harder.
“If I see you standing on the corner of a rooftop,” he said, wiping at his eye dramatically, “I’m calling the cops.”
Marie rolled her eyes and kept walking, laughing despite herself.
Zane hurried after her.
The tension that usually lived in his chest lately felt lighter around her somehow. Easy.
Marie glanced up at him after a moment.
“So do you play for the football team or something?”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”
Marie shrugged casually.
“Two outta the three times I’ve seen you, you were wearing Syracuse football stuff,” she explained. “So either you on the team or you just an extremely dedicated fan.”
Zane snorted quietly. He made a mental note that maybe he needed to go clothes shopping.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m on the team.”
Marie nodded slowly.
“You any good?”
Zane smiled to himself before tilting his head upward behind her.
“You could say that.”
Marie frowned slightly before turning around to follow his eyeline. Mounted against the side of one of the campus buildings behind them was a massive Syracuse football poster.
And right in the center of it was Zane himself midair, fully extended while hauling in a highlight catch beneath bright stadium lights.
Marie turned back toward him slowly.
A smile spread across her face instantly.
“Oh,” she said softly. “I see.”
***
The frustration on Zane’s face wasn’t even attempted to be hidden as the roars continued burrowing down onto the Syracuse sideline from Kenan Memorial Stadium. The North Carolina Tar Heels were hanging on to a narrow 24-20 lead.
Sweat lined Zane’s brow line as he stalked the chalked sideline, watching the defense trying to give the team one more possession before time ran out in the fourth quarter. The other members of the sideline had grown to know not to do anything to him when he had gotten into one of these moods. Coaches would pat him on the shoulder pads, but he was steaming angry.
“Four fucking interceptions,” he muttered to himself, his hands on his hips as he gazed behind him to the benches where Ajani was surrounded by coaches, studying iPads to get a read on what was going on out there.
Zane had put on the performance of his life in the second half after an admittedly poor effort in the first half. There were about two or three balls he definitely should have reeled in, even a deep, jump ball that had gone under video review early in the first quarter that was ultimately ruled to be incomplete.
Bill Belichick’s defense was proving to be stout. They ran their assignments to a tee - continuing to throw different look after different look. They had left Syracuse’s offense completely discombobulated. Timing was thrown for a loop. Factor in the offensive line’s inability to stop a cold, and Ajani had been left for the wolves.
The whistle shrilled through Zane’s recollection of how the game had gone as he watched North Carolina’s offense scurry off the field after failing to convert on third-and-long. The Syracuse defense had managed to hold up one last time. Zane took a peek up at the scoreboard.
43 seconds.
They needed a score. Zane picked up his helmet from between his feet and made his way over to the offense. Jaedn and Johntay had a look on their faces that matched his own. They smelled the opportunity to make it out of here with a win. With a nod, they awaited the punt return unit to field the punt.
…
“This Syracuse offense has been a tale of two halves here, haven’t they?”
“Oh for sure! You saw an offense in disarray in the first half, especially from quarterback Ajani Sheppard with all of the interceptions. Jontay Cook II was largely ineffective, and even Zane Jones was dropping balls that he ordinarily makes.”
“And even still, here they are with an opportunity to steal one down here in Chapel Hill.”
…
Second-and-10 and Zane was lined up wide to the left, just inside of the numbers. He scanned up and noticed the defense is essentially in a prevent defense look. The cornerback was playing ten yards off; their posture pivoted in to see what was going on in the backfield.
“Keep us covered until the pass rush can get home again” Zane thought to himself. He knew he had to fly to get on top of the coverage to even give Ajani the chance to throw one up. Johntay was on the opposite side, certainly thinking the same thing.
Ajani snapped the ball and Zane burst out of his stance, trying to gain as much ground as quickly as he could. All his eyes could see was green blurring past him before he raised his head, seeing the safety flying over to bracket him over top. He knew Jaedn on the inside would be getting bracketed as well by the nickel and an expanding backer.
He had a step on the cornerback and looked up to see the ball descending from the Heavens, a smidge underthrown. He stuttered his steps slightly to size up the jump ball, feeling hands gripping at him from all angles. He tried to grind through the contact to give himself the best shot of coming down with the ball, but he could hardly jump, feeling the ball barely make contact with his shoulder pad before falling innocently to the turf.
The crumple of orange and baby blue jerseys falling to the ground hit with a thud with Zane trying to orient himself. He knew he didn’t have the ball, but all he could hope was for something he hadn’t gotten in a long time.
He looked up and his breath hitched as he found the yellow garment on the turf, the referee waving in his direction.
“About fucking time” Zane screamed, clapping his hands with such fervor it caught the attention of the Tar Heel defenders. They immediately began beckoning for the referee’s attention to plead their cases but it would be falling on deaf ears.
…
“Zane Jones was mauled down there for that deep ball, and they are certainly going to get one of the three Tar Heels for defensive pass interference!”
“The Orange are going to catch a nice break with that one, and with three timeouts remaining in the dying seconds here in the fourth quarter? Hang on to your seats, ladies and gentlemen.”
…
Eight seconds remained as the Syracuse Orange held one last huddle, the ball on their own 40-yard-line. Zane and Johntay were still breathing heavily after running deep routes, both leaning into the huddle to hear the play call.
“Yo, run the exact same play!” Zane barked, still trying to talk while he was breathing through his nose, trying to bring his heart rate down as quickly as he could.
“That’s not the fucking call, man. Listen to Coach,” Ajani spat back, giving him a quick look before reading off the play call.
“Man, fuck that play. That nigga ain’t out here. They’re going to play it inverted because they think you can’t make the throw. They think we’re going to play some funny shit. Heave that bitch. I’m going to be open.”
“Run the fucking route you’re supposed to run, man” Ajani barked as he clapped to collapse the huddle.
“Nigga, throw me the fucking ball or we’re leaving you in this fucking state.” Zane demanded before running to his spot out to Ajani’s left.
The cornerback still played off-man by about 10 or 11 yards, his eyes stared daggers into the backfield. Zane had known what was coming. It was a coverage they had played about two or three plays ago, and he remembered just how open Jaedn had been. Ajani had been hit on the throw, and Zane was convinced he still hadn’t seen it.
All he could pray for was that he saw it this time.
…
“Sheppard takes the snap, looks right, looks back left. Jones is WIDE OPEN!. He’s going to score! I can’t tell you what this Tar Heels’ defense was thinking with that coverage! Syracuse is going to take the lead with only one second remaining on the clock. You can hear a pin drop in this stadium”
“The Orange are going to walk this thing off! Can you believe it?!”
(3-3, 1-2 ACC) @
(3-3, 0-2 ACC)
@(3-3, 0-2 ACC)Jones play hero in Orange last second victory over Tar Heels
‣ I'm but a simple man who occasionally forgets to take a screenshot and are too lazy to get one manually. We move.
‣ I'm but a simple man who occasionally forgets to take a screenshot and are too lazy to get one manually. We move.
Score
| FINAL | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | T |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Syracuse | 7 | 3 | 0 | 17 | 27 |
| North Carolina | 7 | 3 | 7 | 7 | 24 |
Scoring Summary
1st Quarter
(8:32) Fran Brown Jr., 32-yard returned fumble (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 7 - 0 UNC] (4:42) Jake Johnson, 20-yard pass from Gio Lopez (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 7 - 7 UNC]2nd Quarter
(9:56) Jaydn Oh, 27-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 7 UNC] (1:13) Eric Foote, 45-yard field goal [CUSE 10 - 10 UNC]3rd Quarter
(5:04) Gio Lopez, 4-yard run (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 10 - 17 UNC]4th Quarter
(9:51) Zane Jones, 56-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 17 - 17 UNC] (6:33) Jaydn Oh, 36-yard field goal [CUSE 20 - 17 UNC] (0:40) Jake Johnson, 1-yard pass from Gio Lopez (Eric Foote kick) [CUSE 20 - 24 UNC] (0:00) Zane Jones, 60-yard pass from Ajani Sheppard (Jaydn Oh kick) [CUSE 27 - 24 UNC]Team Statistics
QB Ajani Sheppard: 25-45, 324 passing yards, 2 touchdowns, 4 interceptions QB Gio Lopez: 22-38, 204 passing yards, 2 touchdowns HB Yasin Willis: 11 carries, 56 rushing yards, 2 catches, 10 receiving yards HB Malachi James: 8 carries, 8 rushing yards HB Braylen Russell: 13 carries, 100 rushing yards HB Josh Hagans: 6 carries, 15 rushing yards, 3 catches, 16 receiving yards WR Zane Jones: 8 catches, 168 receiving yards, 2 touchdowns WR Johntay Cook II: 9 catches, 80 receiving yards WR Jaedn Skeete: 3 catches, 35 receiving yards TE Daunte Bacheyie: 2 catches, 21 receiving yards WR Ben Black: 8 catches, 75 receiving yards WR Jordan Shipp: 4 catches, 43 receiving yards WR Noah Rogers: 4 catches, 39 receiving yards EDGE David Omopariola: 6 tackles, 4 tackles for loss, 2.5 sacks EDGE Isaiah Hastings: 4 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, 1.5 sacks MIKE Fran Brown Jr: 6 tackles, forced fumble, fumble recovery, touchdown CB Demetres Samuel: 8 tackles SAM Melvin Winborn: 10 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, sack, 2 pass breakup MIKE Timir Hickman-Collins: 8 tackles, interception SS Malcolm Ziglar: 3 tackles, interception, 2 pass breakups EDGE Isaac Walker: 6 tackles, 2 tackles for loss, sack