Episode 13: The First Target
Jaden knew the attack was coming.
It was only a matter of time.
Blaine was the type to hold a grudge. After what happened on the field, Jaden knew he wouldn't just let it go. But Blaine wasn't the kind of guy to fight fair—he'd come at Jaden when he least expected it.
Which meant Jaden had to stay sharp.
He wasn't about to let his guard down.
Not now. Not ever.
The Ambush
It happened that night.
Jaden had just left the locker room, still sore from training, when he felt it.
That shift in the air. That unnatural silence.
Then—movement.
Jaden turned just in time to see a shadow lunging at him.
Too slow.
A hard fist slammed into his ribs.
Pain exploded through his side, knocking the air out of him. But Jaden didn't go down.
He caught himself, twisted his body, and swung back.
His fist connected with someone's jaw.
A grunt of pain. A body stumbling back.
Jaden's vision adjusted to the dim hallway lights, and he saw them.
Not just Blaine.
Three of them.
Blaine stood in the center, his lips curled into a grin. His two goons—Mason and Vic, both built like fucking tanks—stood beside him.
Jaden wiped his lip, tasting blood. They weren't here to play.
Blaine cracked his knuckles. "You really thought you'd get away with that shit today?"
Jaden rolled his shoulders, ignoring the ache in his ribs. He wasn't scared. He was fucking ready.
"You need backup just to fight me?" Jaden taunted. "Pathetic."
Blaine's smirk twitched. "Nah, Carter. We're just making sure you get the fucking message."
Then they charged.
A Fight in the Dark
Jaden moved first.
Vic lunged at him—Jaden ducked under his swing and drove his knee straight into Vic's gut.
Vic grunted, doubling over.
Mason grabbed Jaden from behind.
Jaden reacted instantly, slamming his elbow into Mason's face.
Mason cursed, his grip loosening—but then Blaine was there.
CRACK.
Jaden barely had time to react before Blaine's fist slammed into his jaw.
The world spun. His vision blurred for a split second.
Then they were on him.
Fists. Kicks. Too many at once.
Jaden took a hit to the stomach. Another to his ribs.
He tasted blood.
But he didn't go down.
Because if he went down? They wouldn't stop.
Jaden pushed forward, grabbing Blaine by the shirt and driving him into the lockers.
A sickening BANG echoed through the hall as Blaine's back slammed against the metal.
Blaine grunted, but before Jaden could do more—Vic tackled him.
Jaden hit the ground hard.
Mason kicked him in the ribs. Pain shot through his body.
Blaine stood over him, shaking out his fists, his smirk wider now.
Jaden gritted his teeth. He could barely fucking breathe.
Blaine crouched down, grabbing Jaden by the collar.
"Stay the fuck out of my way," he growled.
Jaden spat blood. Right into Blaine's face.
Blaine's smirk vanished. His expression turned to pure rage.
He raised his fist—
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!"
The voice boomed through the hallway.
Everyone froze.
Jaden blinked through the pain. Coach Vance.
Standing at the end of the hall, eyes burning with fury.
Blaine let go of Jaden instantly, standing up.
Vance's jaw tightened. "You've got three seconds to explain before I throw your asses out of Iron Stride."
Blaine wiped the blood from his lip. "We were just—"
"Shut up."
The hallway went dead silent.
Vance's gaze zeroed in on Jaden.
"You. Get up."
Jaden forced himself to his feet. His body screamed in protest, but he didn't let it show.
Vance looked him over, then turned to Blaine and his crew.
"You think this is some fucking street gang?" Vance's voice was calm. Too calm. "You think I give a shit about your little rivalries?"
No one spoke.
Vance's eyes narrowed. "You want to act like thugs? Fine. But if I catch any of you pulling this shit again…" His voice dropped to a growl.
"I'll make sure you never touch a fucking football again."
Silence.
Then Vance turned to Jaden. His expression unreadable.
"Medical wing. Now."
Jaden didn't argue. He just walked.
He knew this wasn't over.
The Aftermath
Jaden sat on the medical bed, wincing as the medic pressed an ice pack against his ribs.
His phone buzzed.
Abby.
Abby: Hey. Just checking in. You good?
Jaden stared at the screen.
He could tell her.
Tell her that he had just been jumped in the fucking hallway. That Iron Stride wasn't just a training ground—it was a warzone.
But if he told her? She'd worry. She'd try to stop him.
So instead, he just typed—
Jaden: Yeah. Just tired.
A pause.
Then—
Abby: Okay. Sleep well, Jaden.
Jaden exhaled, gripping the phone tighter.
He was getting tired of this.
Tired of the bullshit. The cheap shots. The fucking politics.
Blaine had made his move.
Next time?
Jaden would make sure it was the last.