Dale Denton | The Legacy | Rookie Year

[djp73]

let's focus on football, not these ladies

[redsox907]

let's focus on football, not these ladies

He's a QB. On or off the field - homie finna score a touchdown

[The JZA]

let's focus on football, not these ladies

djp73,

He paused, his gaze meeting hers. “And now? I’m glad I did. I actually enjoy being here. I like this place. I like spending time with you and Zoe.”

Kayla’s smile softened as her teeth caught her lower lip. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really glad you decided to give it a whirl.”

Sophie gave Chase's mom a small wave as they crossed paths.

“You did it,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

He smiled and pulled her close. “We did it.”

She kissed him softly.

He's a QB. On or off the field - homie finna score a touchdown

redsox907, LET THIS MAN KNOW THAT THE PLAY ACTION IS THE PLAY ACTION!!

[djp73]

Called out with receipts

[chosenone58]

Man, what did I walk into!

Dale.....

[The JZA]

Chapter III: Sweet Medicine — Playground

By the time Dale arrived at Clarissa’s apartment, the night air was heavy with silence, the kind of stillness that makes every sound feel louder than it should. He rapped his knuckles against the door, but instead of the dull thud of a locked frame, the door swung inward, loose from the latch. His chest tightened.

“Clarissa?” he called, voice echoing faintly into the dim interior. No answer at first. He stepped inside cautiously, scanning the narrow corridor that led deeper into the apartment.

She was there—curled up on the couch like something fragile and broken. Her hair was a tangled mess, eyes swollen and rimmed red, mascara streaks carved down her cheeks. She looked up at him as if he were the last lifeline she had. “You came,” she sniffled, trying to swipe her tears away. Her voice cracked, small and raw.

The apartment itself was chaos. Boxes half-open, belongings scattered across the floor, like a storm had torn through. But it wasn’t just clutter—it was destruction. Dale’s eyes swept the room, trying to piece together the why, until he saw it.

A hand.

It stuck out from beneath a toppled shelf and a pile of clothes and miscellaneous items, motionless. His breath caught in his throat, his muscles stiffening as he froze.

“What happened here?”

At his words, Clarissa broke. Her body shook with sobs, tears spilling faster. She tried to speak, to force the words out through the choking sound of grief and fear. “It was my ex… he—he followed me home and… and he hurt me, Dale.” Her voice splintered, as if every syllable was tearing her apart. She folded into herself, trembling. “He was screaming at me and things just got out of… oh god, I can’t…” Her cries came in hiccuping bursts, shoulders heaving uncontrollably.

Dale’s gaze flicked to the body again. He moved around it carefully, his heartbeat hammering in his ears, every instinct screaming to stay on guard. The guy lay crumpled, head tilted at an unnatural angle, and Dale couldn’t tell if he was out cold—or worse. He forced his attention back to Clarissa.

“Hey,” Dale crouched near her, lowering his voice. “Calm down. Deep breaths. Relax. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He tried to sound steady, but even his own throat felt tight. “Did you call the cops yet?”

She shook her head wildly, panic spilling over her face. “No—I… I didn’t know what to do. He was just there, and I tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t stop, and I thought he was going to kill me, Dale!” Her breathing came shallow and frantic. She pressed her palms against her chest like she was trying to hold herself together.

“I was just… earlier, I went to my yoga class,” she stammered, voice rushing out in uneven fragments. “The instructor was late, pushed it back. I came home, started unpacking. Then there was a knock—I thought it was the delivery guy with my pizza. So I opened the door without checking, but it was him. My ex.” Her lip trembled.

“He tried begging, pleading. Asking me to take him back. But I wanted nothing to do with him, ever again. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Then—he got so angry. He said he’d been watching me, that he knew I was sleeping around.” She let out a bitter, broken laugh, clenching her fists. “I haven’t seen him in almost a year. My boyfriend told him to back off back then. But he just… he was screaming, saying I left him, that I owed him.”

She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if the memory itself burned. “He started shouting, calling me names—slut, whore. I told him to leave, that it was over and I was going to call the cops, but he wouldn’t listen. I tried shutting the door but he shoved through. He threw me down.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think I blacked out. When I came to, he was on top of me… tearing at my clothes.”

Her words dissolved into sobs. She covered her face with both hands, shoulders convulsing. “I thought he was going to have his way with me and kill me, Dale. I really did.”

Dale’s chest felt heavy, rage and helplessness tangled inside him. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She collapsed into his chest, burying her face against him, her sobs muffled by his shirt. “It’s alright now. I’m here,” he murmured, stroking her back. “He can’t hurt you anymore. Not now. I’m sorry this happened to you.” The words felt small, but it was all he could give.

She clung to him desperately, tears and snot soaking his shirt, but he didn’t care. She trembled like she was trying to keep herself from shattering into pieces. “I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, looking up at him through swollen eyes. “I shouldn’t have called you. But I didn’t know who else to call. I couldn’t tell anyone else. I just… I needed someone. And you’re the only person I trust right now”

Dale shook his head firmly. “Nah. You did the right thing. Don’t even think otherwise.”

He eased away from her, forcing himself to look at the man again. He grabbed a shirt from a box labeled clothes and crouched. Pressing the fabric against the man’s wrist, not wanting to leave finger prints—just in case. He searched for a pulse. After a tense moment, he exhaled.

“It’s faint… but he’s not dead.”

Clarissa’s eyes snapped toward the body, wide and wet with dread.

“I just remember when I came back to—” she stuttered. “I punched, I kicked, I didn’t stop. He fell back into the shelf. My grandpa’s bowling ball fell off, hit him on the head. Everything came crashing down.”

Dale followed her gaze. Among the broken glass and scattered belongings, the heavy black bowling ball sat denting the floorboards, smeared faintly with something darker. His stomach knotted. He laid the man’s arm back down gently, his mind racing. “We gotta call the cops,” Dale said finally, his voice low but firm. “Get him out of here before this gets worse.”

Clarissa nodded, still trembling. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” She wiped at her swollen eyes, sniffled, tried to compose herself. “I… I should probably put clothes on first.” She glanced at herself—tank top torn at the strap, underwear exposed, bruises spreading across her skin. “Can you… just keep an eye on him while I change? In case he wakes up?”

“Yeah. I got it.”

She gave a small, shaky nod and hurried into the bedroom. Behind the cracked door, she dug for clothes with trembling hands. Sweatpants. A hoodie. She pulled them on, avoiding her reflection, but when her eyes flicked to the mirror, she couldn’t escape it—the bruises, the swelling, the girl who no longer looked like her. She bit back another sob, tugging her hood up like armor.

Back in the living room, Dale checked his phone, thumb hovering over 911. Before he could dial, a knock startled him—then the door creaked wider. A pizza courier stepped inside, holding a box. His eyes widened at the sight of the body on the floor.

Dale shot up instantly, moving to block the view. His voice cracked with fire. “Yo! The fuck you doin’ in here!? You don’t know how to knock, or what!?”

The courier stammered, “Door was open—”

“That don’t give you no right to walk in,” Dale snapped, his glare sharp enough to cut. But he caught himself, sucking in a breath. This wasn’t helping. With a heavy sigh, he reached into his pocket, pulling the last crumpled bills he had. He shoved them at the courier.

“This ain’t no tip—it’s a warning. Get outta here, B’.”

The courier nodded quickly, eager to escape, and slipped out without another word.

Clarissa returned just as the door closed, wrapped in sweatpants and a hoodie, eyes darting between Dale and the door. “Everything alright? Did something happen?”

Dale didn’t answer, just pulled out his phone again. His thumb pressed the numbers firmly this time. “Yeah. Just stay back. Away from him.”

He put the phone to his ear, voice even as the operator picked up. Clarissa moved close, clinging to his arm as if anchoring herself against the fear still coursing through her. Her hood shadowed her bruised face, but her eyes shone with terror and fragile trust. As Dale gave the report, the weight of the night hung thick in the room—fear, violence, and a fragile thread of safety that still felt like it could snap at any second.

By the time the flashing reds and blues filled the street outside Clarissa’s building, Dale could already feel the weight of the night pressing harder on his chest. The police arrived shortly after, their heavy boots echoing down the narrow hallway as they stepped into the apartment. They took in the scene with grave expressions, eyes darting from the mess on the floor to Clarissa’s trembling figure, to the faint rise and fall of her ex’s chest. The paramedics soon after arrived moved swiftly, checking his vitals before strapping him onto a stretcher and hauling him out. Through it all, Clarissa stayed close to Dale outside, leaning against him like he was the only anchor she had left in the storm.

Tenants had gathered outside their doors, whispering, peeking, but never daring to step closer. Some crossed their arms and shook their heads, others clutched their kids tighter, ushering them back inside. It was a scene that drew eyes but no helping hands. And just as quickly as the police and paramedics had come, they whisked her ex away, leaving the apartment complex to settle back into a wary silence. People drifted back into their units, doors clicking shut, blinds drawn.

Inside, the chaos remained. Dale turned to Clarissa, his expression carved with concern. “All of this is over now. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but… how are you holding up?”

Clarissa let out a shuddering sigh, her whole body sagging like a balloon drained of air.

“I don’t know, Dale. I feel like I’m in a dream or something. Like this can’t be real.” She looked up at him, eyes still rimmed in red, though no fresh tears spilled. “Thank you for coming. For helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.” Her voice cracked, trembling on the edge of breaking. “I just… I can’t believe this happened.”

“Yeah. Same here…” Dale’s reply came out almost flat, his own emotions knotted tight. He hesitated, then asked, “Your parents—you think they can come get you or be here with you until things calm down?”

Clarissa thought of her mother and shook her head, a sad little smile tugging at her lips. “No. My mom lives in Oregon. She’d never come… Besides, she and I haven’t really talked in years. Not since I moved out to go to school.” She shrugged, trying for nonchalance, though the pain slipped through in her eyes. “I guess it’s just me then. On my own as always.”

Dale studied her, brow furrowed. “I thought you and your mom were on good terms, from how you spoke about her before… I guess everything’s not always what it seems. I’ve been there, kind of.” He thought briefly of his own father’s absence, how those missing pieces of family shaped scars that never quite closed.

Clarissa let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, I learned the hard way that things aren’t always what they seem. Especially not with family.” She sighed, hugging herself tightly. “But hey, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself, right?”

"... Call your mother, Clarissa." Dale lean off the rail of the balcony that overseen the parking lot filled with cars. "The most important thing you need right now is family." Dale reassured.

Her voice faltered, and she hesitated, biting her lip. “You really think so? That she would even want to talk to me after all this time?”

“She’s your mom. What good is she if she don’t want to be here for you? At least try. See if she’ll come and stand by you.”

Clarissa inhaled shakily, Dale’s words weighing on her. Finally, with trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to her mother’s number. Dale stepped back into the apartment, giving her a little space. He paced slowly through the wreckage of the living room, his eyes sweeping the overturned furniture, the scattered glass shards, the faint bloodstains that marked the violence of earlier. He could almost hear it playing out in his head, replaying her words against the silence of the room.

Behind him, Clarissa’s voice cracked softly into the phone. “Mom? It’s me, Clarissa.”

Dale tuned it out, letting her have the privacy. Minutes passed, her voice trembling but steadying as the conversation went on. Finally, she appeared in the doorway, a mixture of relief and tension in her expression.

“She’s coming. She’ll be here tomorrow morning.” A small, grateful smile crossed her face as she looked at Dale. “Thank you. For being here. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you tonight.”

“It’s what friends are for. No need to thank me. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She nodded, though her arms wrapped tighter around herself. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again, to be honest. But having you here helps. A lot.”

Clarissa hesitated, her voice dropping softer. “I… I don’t want to be alone tonight, Dale. Would you maybe stay with me? Just sleep on the couch or something. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I just… I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

Dale looks at Clarissa, giving a nod as he strokes her arm in comfort, "Sure thing. I would feel like a dirt bag if I just up and left right now. The least I can do is help get this place cleaned up."

Relief flickered in her face when Dale nodded. “Thank you, Dale. Seriously. You’re a good friend.” Her gaze swept the apartment again, disarray piled around them like an echo of her shattered calm. “I don’t even know where to start with cleaning this mess.”

“Just take a seat,” Dale said gently. “Get a handle on your nerves. I’ll start the cleaning.”

She nodded gratefully and sank down onto the couch. Dale moved methodically, sweeping broken glass into piles, tossing shards and toppled items into trash bags. Slowly, Clarissa gathered herself enough to join him, both of them working side by side in silence. Words weren’t necessary—the act of cleaning together was enough, a rhythm of motion that kept the night from swallowing them whole. Hours passed. Finally, when the apartment was tidied enough to feel livable again, both of them collapsed onto the couch. Small talk filled the air here and there, quiet and strained but comforting in its own way.

After a while, Clarissa leaned over, resting her head silently on Dale’s shoulder. Her breathing slowed, exhaustion overtaking her until she drifted off into sleep. Dale sat still, staring out at the dim glow of the city beyond the window, left alone with his own tangled thoughts.

[The JZA]

Man, what did I walk into!

Dale.....

chosenone58, Come on fam, not you too

[redsox907]

Hol' on. I was reading this thinking ol boy she was seeing at Washington State (I think that's what it was) was the one who was now the ex. But this chick has a whole ass man, with her ex stalking her, and cock blocks our boy Dale?

That sounds very insensitive re-reading it lol. Glad she had SOMEONE to call at the very least. Our boy a superhero on and off the field

[The JZA]

Hol' on. I was reading this thinking ol boy she was seeing at Washington State (I think that's what it was) was the one who was now the ex. But this chick has a whole ass man, with her ex stalking her, and cock blocks our boy Dale?

That sounds very insensitive re-reading it lol. Glad she had SOMEONE to call at the very least. Our boy a superhero on and off the field

redsox907, & Here y'all had Dale out looking like a horn dog. Man can't get a fair trial with none of y'all. Man just trying to have friends.

Yeah, her dude is at Washington State, we'll let him know that Dale took care of his shorty at the coin flip. All things consider, he might've stepped in some poop along the way.

[Agent]

dale on draft night