Marked (Playing Games Book 1)

by Rebecca Barber

  “Yeah. Your boy. The one standing in the kitchen with sauce on his shirt and a scowl on his face. Where does he rank in your favourite footballer’s spank bank list? And more importantly, is he ahead or behind your precious Luke?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  TASHA

  I felt like I was going to puke. My noodles were in danger of ending up on Logan’s kitchen floor. My heart was pounding, and the blood was roaring through my veins. Bryce’s words had me tripping and basically freaking the fuck out.

  “Hell, Tash, are you okay?”

  Did I look like I was okay? Fuck no! Instead of saying that though, I sucked in a deep breath, my nose whistling as I did. “Fine,” I spat through gritted teeth.

  “You sure? You look like you’re going to pass out.” It was no wonder Bryce was tragically single. He had no idea when to just shut the hell up and keep his opinions to himself.

  Before I had a chance to answer, my phone rang on the bench beside me. Normally I’d ignore it. I hated people who were rude and answered their phone when they were in the middle of a conversation or dinner. But when I saw Dad’s name on the screen, my manners went out the window.

  “Sorry. I need to get this. Dad never calls.”

  “No worries,” Logan said politely, standing up and gathering the now-empty dishes. Accepting the call, I moved towards the couch wanting a little privacy. Or maybe it was the distance I was after.

  “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Tasha. Sorry to call. I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Ah, that’s good.”

  “What’s going on? You never call.” As much as I loved talking to Dad, I was more anxious than excited to hear from him. For some reason, maybe it was the Thai, my stomach was in knots.

  “Can’t I just call and say hi to my favourite daughter?”

  “Favourite daughter? Try only daughter.”

  “Still my favourite.”

  “Nice try.” I dropped onto the couch, folded my legs under me and hugged a cushion to my chest. For a moment I forgot I wasn’t at my place and just settled in and made myself at home. “Where are you anyway? It’s really loud.”

  “Ah, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Dad…” Dropping the cushion I sat up straighter.

  “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Your Mum’s fine. Well, she will be.”

  “Dad! What’s going on?”

  Logan must have heard the worry in my voice because he appeared out of nowhere and was standing there staring at me like I’d lost my marbles.

  “Your mum’s had a fall and we’re at the hospital.”

  “What?” I screeched and I swear people in the next suburb’s ears perked up.

  “Calm down, Natasha. She’s fine. She tripped on some concrete and fell over.”

  “If she’s so fine, why’s she at the hospital?”

  “Tasha!” Logan scolded my bitchy comment. Even though it was deserved, it was probably harsh under the circumstances.

  “We think she broke her wrist in the fall.”

  I bounced up from my spot on the couch and hurried into the kitchen to grab my bag. When I spun around to head for the door, I saw Logan standing there like a lost puppy. Reaching up on my tippy toes, I placed a kiss on his cheek and headed for the door. I needed to be at the hospital. Broken wrist or not, if Mum was in hospital, I was going to be there. Even if there was absolutely nothing I could do.

  Not bothering to wait for the elevator, I bounded down the stairs while getting the rest of the information from Dad. Emerging on the street, the rain had stopped for now, leaving puddles everywhere and the scent of moisture in the air. Everything seemed calmer, cleaner after the rainstorm had passed. I was so busy admiring the beauty I hadn’t been watching where I was going and stepped straight into a muddy puddle, jolting me back to reality with a wet thud.

  Starting towards the train station, I finished up the call with Dad and walked faster. Mum would be okay. I knew that. Rationally I did. But emotionally, until I saw her with my own two eyes, I wasn’t about to believe it.

  Turning the corner, I was cut off by a navy SUV idling at the kerb. Annoyed but refusing to let it delay me, I stepped into the street and moved in front of it. I was almost in the middle of the road when I heard my name being called over the traffic.

  “Tasha! Tasha!”

  Spinning around, I almost got collected by an idiot on a bike dressed head to toe in black lycra. I hated cyclists on the road. They were a bloody hazard.

  “Tasha!” My name came again, and I remembered what I was doing.

  “What?” I turned angrily. I did not have time for this shit.

  “Come on. Get in the car. I’ll drive you wherever it is you need to go.”

  Stepping off the road, I stood there staring like a moron. Bryce was sitting behind the wheel, his sunglasses perched on the top of his head and a concerned look on his face.

  “Bryce?”

  “Come on. Jump in. I’m parked illegally.”

  Without bothering to question it any further, I dashed around the car and slipped into the warmth of his car. It was kept immaculately. There was not a speck of dirt or dust, and one glance over my shoulder told me there was certainly no rubbish on the back floor. This was not like most guys’ cars I knew.

  After asking where I was headed, Bryce pulled out into traffic and remained quiet. It was kind of unsettling being in a car with someone you barely knew, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

  With only a couple of blocks left, Bryce spoke. “So, what’s the real story with you and my boy, Logan?”

  “Real story?”

  “Oh, come on. You know what I mean. You two seem to be getting pretty cosy there.”

  “We’re just friends.”

  “Just friends. Bullshit.”

  “We are. If that. I mean, we hardly know each other.”

  There was nothing I hated more than being put on the spot and right now I felt like I was standing under a spotlight completely naked. I was not okay with that.

  “Well, you look pretty comfy wearing Logan’s underwear.” Bryce stopped at the lights and glanced over at me. My cheeks burned under his scrutiny.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I just think it’s funny you both think that’s all you are. Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? They don’t hang out and eat dinner. They don’t spend afternoon’s hanging out together at museums. So, I’ll ask you again. Natasha, what are you doing twisting my boy up in knots?”

  Gulping, I realised he was right. I didn’t like it, and I was even less likely to admit it but when it came down to it, it was the truth. I hated cocky arseholes who pointed out when they were right.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted sheepishly as we turned into the parking lot of the hospital.

  As glad as I was to be here, I was also nervous as hell. I hated hospitals. There was absolutely nothing good about them. The toxic scent of disinfectant. The constant beeping. The sound of families weeping. Babies crying. People dying. The sooner I got in, saw Mum was fine and got out, the happier I’d be.

  “Well, I better go in, I guess.”

  Reaching over, Bryce gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “She will be okay, Tash.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey, hang on a second. I’ve got something for you.” He bounded out of the car and popped open the boot. A moment later he was sliding back behind the wheel. “Here you go. They’re probably a bit big, but they should help.”

  “Shit!” I unrolled the sweatpants looking down. I’d completely forgotten I’d run out of the house wearing Logan’s boxers and not much more.

  Unbuckling my belt, I pulled on the pants, slid out of the car and shut the door. Adjusting my bag over my shoulder, beside me the window wound down.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said, offering Bryce a soft smile. “And the pants.”

  “I can’t believe I let you get into my pants. You didn’t
even buy me a drink first.”

  “You’re terrible,” I scolded.

  “But you love me anyway.”

  Just as I went to head towards the intimidating, illuminated doors, Bryce called out to me, stopping me where I stood. “Tasha?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Does Logan at least have your number?”

  Shit! I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d been in such a rush to get to the hospital, I hadn’t thought about anything else. Hence the lack of appropriate clothing. It wasn’t deliberate. Subconscious maybe but definitely not on purpose. “I didn’t even think…”

  “Wanna give it to me?”

  “I…I…”

  “Not for me. Geez! Glad to know how much I appeal to you. Put the poor boy out of his misery and give me your number. Last time you vanished without a trace I had to put up with his cranky arse for days.”

  Now it was my turn to call bullshit. “He was not cranky!” I protested.

  “He almost killed me with all the running and weights and extra gym sessions.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. Now, phone number. What is it?”

  Caving, I gave him my number before he put the car in drive and headed off, leaving me standing alone in front of the hospital. With a shake of my head, I forced myself to push aside everything that had happened and concentrate on the problem at hand; sorting out what was going on with Mum. Everything else was future Tasha’s problem.

  Pulling up my big-girl panties, I sucked in my last breath of what should’ve been fresh air but in fact stunk like cigarettes, and stepped inside. Heading straight for the information desk, I impatiently joined the queue. In front of me was a filthy woman ranting and raving about wanting to see her boyfriend. The grey-haired, bespectacled lady behind the safety glass kept her cool and answered her questions patiently. Woman was a saint. The language the obviously-high chick was throwing around the crowded lobby was educational even for me.

  When security appeared, instead of calming her, like it would a normal person, she exploded, throwing the tissue box across the foyer. They moved in and escorted her from the building.

  “Next.” When I was summoned to the counter, it interrupted my viewing of the drama.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as I looked up at the lady who reminded me of my mum. Remembering why I was here, I hurriedly explained and got directions, then followed the blue line down the long, deserted corridors.

  After getting lost twice, I fell through the door only to find Mum and Dad staring at me like I was a clumsy freak; which would’ve pissed me off if it hadn’t been one hundred percent accurate.

  “Natasha! What are you doing here?” Mum asked me while staring pointedly at Dad.

  “More importantly, what are you doing here?” I questioned, moving towards the bed and hovering.

  I didn’t know what to do. Did I move close? Sit on the end of the bed? Stand against the wall? Touch anything? Touch Mum? This anxiety right here, this was why I hated hospitals.

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a silly accident.”

  “Silly accident that has you rocking the sexy white gown and lying up in a hospital bed.”

  Waving my comment off with her good arm, Mum instructed Dad to go and get himself something to drink. Once he was safely out of the room, and I’m betting hearing distance, Mum started the questions. “Where did you come from? You didn’t come in on the train just to see me, did you? And dressed like that! Your father shouldn’t have told you. It’s nothing. Just a broken wrist, which the doctors assure me will heal and there’ll be no issues. Natasha, darling, come here. Sit down.”

  She didn’t even take a breath. It was impressive really. Doing as I was told, I sat on the edge of her bed careful not to bump her or the cords and tubes running every which way. “No, I was with friends.”

  “Friends? Giselle? Is she here? Is she parking the car?”

  Before I had a chance to answer, a nurse poked her head in and told Mum she’d be heading down for surgery within the hour. When she asked about pain medications, I was tempted to ask her for some tranquilizers to calm her the hell down. She was practically bouncing off the walls. While it was damn hilarious, it was also kind of disturbing. Whatever they were giving her, I wanted some.

  Dad walked back in the room with a coffee cup in one hand before handing me the bottle of Coke he had tucked under his arm and the paper bag dangling in his fingers.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  There was a reason I loved my Dad. Inside he’d bought me a white chocolate macadamia cookie. My absolute favourite. He gave me one of those awkward one-armed half hugs. “Thanks, Dad,” I mumbled around a mouth full of gooey goodness.

  “So, Giselle…where is she?” Mum asked again, not letting up.

  “I have more friends than just Giselle, you know?”

  Okay, maybe I didn’t have that many friends I’d voluntarily hang out with, but still. To automatically assume I was with Giselle…well, it kind of hurt.

  “Who dropped you off then?”

  “A friend,” I answered coyly.

  “Does your friend have a name?”

  “Yes.”

  “And would you like to share it with the rest of the room?”

  No. And hell no! “Bryce.”

  “Bryce who?”

  “Does it matter? Bryce is a friend who I was with when I got your call so he dropped me off. And now I’m here. So, what’s the plan, Mum? They said surgery. In overnight I’m guessing?” I asked, redirecting the attention back to the patient rather than on my friendship circle.

  “Yes. Surgery in about an hour then discharged tomorrow. But back to Bryce,” Mum answered, not letting me get away with anything.

  When I looked to Dad for help, he just smiled and shrugged. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  LOGAN

  I hated Adelaide. There was absolutely nothing I liked about it. The flight over early this morning had been delayed, then we’d been struck with violent turbulence for most of it. The hotel stuffed us around for twenty minutes because the rooms weren’t ready. And now I was sitting on the bench on the sideline with five minutes left to play in the third quarter and we were getting our arses handed to us.

  “What the fuck is wrong with us?” I asked no one in particular, not expecting an answer.

  “We’re bloody slow,” Anthony muttered as he squirted water in his mouth and wiped his face with a towel.

  “Or are they just faster?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Staring on with disbelief, I struggled to figure it out. This season was not going to plan. We were supposed to be winning. Many, many people had us in their top four and a shit tonne of money had been placed on us to win the whole damn competition.

  “You ready?” the trainer in the bright yellow shirt asked.

  Nodding, I took another swig from the water bottle before dropping it back in the carry case and heading to the interchange gates. After the brief wait, I ran onto the field and made it barely five metres before I took a hit I didn’t see coming. Even with my brain being rattled, I wasn’t letting it slow me down, and I certainly wasn’t about to limp off. I’d done that once this season and been crucified for it. The only way I was leaving this field this afternoon was on a stretcher.

  Standing up, I gestured to Bryce for the ball so I could take the free kick. After brushing the grass from my hands, I kicked it as far and as high as I could, bombing it into the forward line. It wasn’t a set play, in fact it was pretty much a kick and hope, but I needed to buy myself a second to stop the tiny birds circling my head before I was needed back on defence.

  By the time the siren sounded, signalling the end of the game, we’d mounted a comeback but still fallen nineteen points short. While it wasn’t a humiliating defeat, it was still another loss jotted down in the record books, and I was seriously getting sick of losing. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but somethin
g was wrong. We just weren’t gelling as a team. Although we were already halfway through the season, we still seemed off. Like we didn’t trust each other.

  Forgoing a shower, I quickly changed into my black pants and team polo and snuck out the door. Some of the guys were talking about heading to a local pizza place we’d found last time we were here; I wasn’t up for it. Instead, I made my way back to the hotel, took a long hot shower and flicked on the TV. After clicking around, I landed on a Die Hard movie and got lost in John McClane’s antics.

  The best thing about a Saturday afternoon game was the early night. When you played the night game, although it was awesome playing under lights, by the time the adrenaline wore off and you crawled into bed, it was around two in the morning. I wasn’t a person who dealt well with late nights. I liked my sleep. Well, unless I had a better offer.

  “Fuck it!” Now I was thinking of Natasha and wondering where she was and what she was doing.

  Picturing her shaking that fantastic arse in a night club when I was halfway across the country didn’t help me calm down at all. If anything, it elevated my blood pressure more than the game had.

  When she’d run out the other day, I’d completely understood. Her mum was in the hospital and that’s all she was thinking about. I got it. I’d probably do the same thing if I was her. Didn’t mean I liked it, though.

  Dropping back on my bed dramatically I grabbed the water bottle from the table and started tossing it up in the air before catching it again. I should’ve gone for pizza. At least then I wouldn’t be considering climbing the walls.

  “Arsehole!” The door flung open and banged on the wall. Thank fuck the walls were concrete. There was no way I was paying for damages Bryce’s carelessness caused. I think the lack of breakability was the reason the club chose this shitty hotel in the first place. It definitely wasn’t the service, and the food was subpar at best.

  “Hey!” I protested.

  He dropped a pizza box on my bed and immediately the scent of garlic, cheese and tomatoes filled the room. My stomach growled loudly. “Brought you some dinner. Didn’t know if you’d eaten.”