Dale Denton | The Legacy | Senior Year

[redsox907]

Dale needs to run more if he wants to set a precedent with a 3rd Heisman

[Soapy]

Miami 10-0

[Captain Canada]

45 tuddies through the air is strong as hell.

[Google[Bot]]

an Int and a Fum in the same game.. but still took an easy dub

[djp73]

Weird having all your games done and some conference teams still having 2 left. Hopefully you don’t get left out of the cc game. Tha alphabet is not on your side.

[The JZA]

Chapter VI: Bonfire

It’d been a month since the Dom incident, but time didn’t heal the way people liked to pretend it did. Layla’s bruises had faded into light shadows on her caramel skin, but the real scars—those ran deep. The kind of deep that no mirror could reflect and no makeup could hide.

She moved different now. Quieter. Jumpier.

Like every creak in the floorboards had a ghost attached to it. Layla refused the hospital that night—too proud, too scared, maybe both. Said she was fine. But fine didn’t flinch when a car door slammed too loud or sleep with one eye open. Fine didn’t double-check every window before she laid her head down.

Dale knew better.

Three nights out the week, she stayed tucked under his watch on campus, quiet as a church mouse. The other four, Dale had her bouncing from hotel to hotel like a fugitive. But paranoia had a smell, and Dale could damn near taste it in the air every time she got quiet. Something wasn’t sitting right, and he felt it in his bones.

“Hey…” Dale dropped his duffel by the door, the late-night weight of training hanging off his shoulders. The dorm smelled like lavender lotion and takeout fries. Layla was curled up on his bed, knees hugged to her chest like they were all that was holding her together.

“How we feelin’ today?” he asked, sinking down beside her.

Layla forced a smile—thin, breakable. “I’m okay, I guess. Just… tired of looking over my shoulder all the time.” Her voice was small, like she was afraid the walls might snitch if she spoke too loud.

Dale studied her. The small tremor in her hands, the way her eyes darted toward the window every few seconds. "I can understand that..." He reached out, brushing a finger along the vein that ran down her foot. It was meant to soothe, but she tensed anyway.

“I know I’ve been wrapped up in practice and shit,” he started, tone low, steady. “But I got the next three weeks off from games. I want you to know I’m here now. For real. We gotta talk about this. I just wanna keep you safe. ‘Cause all this back and forth—campus, hotels, ducking out the back like we in a mob flick—that can’t be peace. I know you tired.”

She swallowed, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “No one’s ever wanted to keep me safe before,” she said, voice cracking. “Not like this, not like you...”

Dale’s jaw flexed.

“Home… I don’t even know if I have one anymore. Not with Dom still out there waiting to—”

“Don’t.” Dale cut her off, his tone sharp. “Don’t talk like that. He ain’t waitin’ on shit.”

Layla froze. No one ever interrupted her fear before. No one ever met it head-on. Something flickered behind her eyes—hope, disbelief, maybe both.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “That’s on me. I just wish it never gotten that far...” He paused, eyes narrowing. “Where your folks at, anyway? They around?”

Layla’s laugh came out hollow. “Parents? Please. My dad dipped when I was five. Mom? She’s too busy chasing her next high to remember she got a daughter.”

“Shit…” Dale exhaled, shaking his head. “Deja Vu.”

He stood, pacing the room, running through scenarios in his head. Zara came to mind for a second, but he tossed that thought out—if Dom knew Layla, he probably knew her circle too.

“Fuck it,” Dale said finally, stopping mid-stride. “We ridin’ this out together. You ain’t gotta face this alone. But you should file somethin’. A report—anything. We can’t let that motherfucker keep breathin’ easy.”

Layla stood slowly, her bare feet padding softly across the floor until she reached him. Her hand found his forearm, light as a whisper. “I hear you. And I’m grateful, truly. But Dom’s not just some random dude. He’s connected. He’s got cops in his pocket. If I go to them, I could make things worse.”

“On his payroll?” Dale’s brows shot up. “What? He's some Texas version of Diddy? Man, please. His shit don’t run that deep.”

Layla’s lips twisted bitterly. “You don’t get it. Dom used to run clubs, strip joints, even got into film production. That’s how he found me—eighteen and dumb as hell, thinking he was Prince Charming. By the time I saw the devil, I was already in love with him.” Her voice trembled. “He made me work for him. Said he was my manager, but really he owned me.”

Dale’s face hardened, jaw tightening. “Nah, fuck that. He don’t own you, not now, not ever again.” He leaned back against his desk, eyes locked on her. “You got out once. Now it’s time to end it for good. We go to the precinct tomorrow morning. I don’t care who he paying. I’m walkin’ in there with you.”

Layla hesitated, torn between fear and relief. She perched on the edge of the desk, close enough to feel his heat. “I know you’re right,” she whispered. “I just… I’m scared of making things worse. Talking to someone who's just going to turn the blind eye cause he's on his books. But if you’re by my side, maybe I can finally do it. Maybe I can finally stand up to him.”

Dale reached out, taking her hand, his grip firm and steady. “Fuck him and his pockets,” he said, voice low but fierce. “He wanna test his luck, I’ll be here this time. I got you, shortie. Ain’t no man gonna put hands on you again.”

Layla’s throat tightened, tears finally spilling down her cheeks. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel powerless. She felt… seen. Protected.

“You’re right,” she said, straightening her back. “I’m done running. I’ll file the report tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” Dale murmured. He cupped her face, thumb brushing away the tears. “No more looking over your shoulder.”

Layla smiled faintly through the tears, leaning in and kissing his cheek—a soft, trembling thank you.

“Having you in my life makes me feel strong again,” she whispered against his skin.

Dale tilted her chin up, eyes burning into hers. “You are strong, you've been strong” he said before kissing her—gentle, deliberate, like he was sealing a promise. “He'll never break you again, not while I'm around, that's a fact.”

He pulled her close, settling her in his lap. Her body melted into his, the tension bleeding out as he wrapped his arms around her. The room went quiet except for their breathing—steady, syncopated, healing.

For the first time since that night, Layla didn’t feel hunted. For the first time, she felt safe. And in Dale’s arms, she believed it.

[The JZA]

Dale needs to run more if he wants to set a precedent with a 3rd Heisman

redsox907, Shit, they gotta get two first

Miami 10-0

Soapy, Too bad they lost to Louisville

45 tuddies through the air is strong as hell.

Captain Canada, Freshman numbers Had it not been for the short shophomore year, we'd be 40+ for the 4th year straight

an Int and a Fum in the same game.. but still took an easy dub

Google[Bot], Unfortunately that fumble came off a bad pitch, went straight behind the back and rolled out

Weird having all your games done and some conference teams still having 2 left. Hopefully you don’t get left out of the cc game. Tha alphabet is not on your side.

djp73, We cutting the line fam, what you mean?

[The JZA]

[The JZA]

[redsox907]

Nick Saban ain't walking through those doors