“What? He was hit by a motorbike. Bloody hell. My God.” Vance sounds so worried and shocked, I’m sure it isn’t easy to get news like this when he can’t be with Mason in the same room.
“He’s okay, love. Really. One of the nurses promised him ice cream and now that’s all he’s fixated on.”
“I’ll hop in the car now. I’ll be there in two hours,” Vance says hurriedly, and I think I hear him throwing things into a bag.
“Are you sure? Don’t you have a match this weekend?” Of course, I want him here, but I don’t want him to think I’m pulling him away from anything.
“Fuck the match. I’m coming to hold my son.” His voice is full of concern.
“Call me when you get close, I’ll let you know if we’ve left the hospital yet. Drive safe, Vance, I don’t need the other most important man in my life hurt, too.”
“Tell Mason I’ll be there soon. I love him. I love you.”
And because I still can’t bloody get over myself, I say, “We’ll be waiting for you.”
33
Lara
I find Louis sitting on a bench outside.
Though my child is lying in a hospital bed upstairs, no matter that my mother is with him, I know I need to do this. I need to, once and for all, put closure on this relationship. Louis and I never settled the hurt between us, and apparently it allowed him to take it and turn it into rage. Against the person I love most.
“You’re a fucking wanker, you know that?” My introduction is anything but kind.
Louis’s head snaps up, and his eyes are red-rimmed. Like he’s been crying. Or maybe he’s drunk. Either way, my hands ball into fists.
“I let you stay by his bedside, let you near him to comfort him. And then what do you do? You go outside and give a statement to some bloody reporter about my family. I know you’re hurt, and I’m to blame for what happened between us, but don’t you dare take that out on Mason. Ever.”
My voice is so cutting, I’m surprised there isn’t a knife to Louis’s throat. But that’s what he gets for putting my baby in harm’s way.
“Lara, I shouldn’t have said those things.” He sighs, his hand raking through his hair.
“You think? Do you know the damage you’ve caused? Imagine if Mason saw one of those headlines later in life. Or if some arsehole kid at nursery school whose parents loathe me said something to him? That’s his father, Louis, whether you like it or not. And Vance has done a wonderful job of showing up. He can’t help it that his job keeps him away on certain days. Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s been around loads more than you have. When I called off our engagement, you promised that wouldn’t be the end of your relationship with Mason. But apparently, that’s exactly what happened.”
“It’s just been hard for me. Everything was taken from me,” he complains.
I’m tough because I have to be, but I still have a soul. I know what I did to Louis isn’t fair, to be honest it was pure shite. He had every reason to feel sorrow, to not want to come around me and my new beau.
Pulling back on the pit bull inside my chest, I make my tone softer. “I’m sure it’s awkward to come visit. Lord knows I am so very sorry, Louis. I didn’t do right by you. I can’t imagine the hurt you’re going through, and I wish I could fix that. But that doesn’t give you the liberty to trash us to the tabloids. Do you know the shite we’re going to have to endure now? Even if it’s retracted, that stain will follow Vance around.”
“I never meant to hurt Mason.” A sob escapes his throat, and I pat him awkwardly on the shoulder.
At one time, I thought I loved this man. But, after being with Vance, I see it was only friendship. Companionship. I never felt the intense, all-consuming, frustrating, heartbreaking love I do for the father of my child. But Louis was there for me in a time when I could lean on no one else. I’ll never forget that.
“I know you didn’t. And he still loves you very much. I will never keep you from being a part of his life.”
Louis glances up, his brown eyes catching mine. “Thank you. I know I need to do better.”
“You were always the better one of us. But if you ever talk to a reporter again, I’ll come for you. You know I’m a mother lion when it comes to my son, so don’t mess with him.”
My ex-fiancé nods emphatically because he has to feel more rotten inside than I feel pissed at him.
Maybe this was the closure we needed, because something in me felt unsettled up until this point. For so long, I’ve felt horrible about what I did to Louis. Kissing Vance when I was still with him, breaking off our engagement, making it uncomfortable for him to see the boy he’d raised since I gave birth.
With that guilt sitting on my heart, I hadn’t been able to move forward. I didn’t love Louis, but I also felt truly awful about the wrong I’d done him. Mix that with the frustration I felt at him for judging that Vance was Mason’s father, and now this media slip-up …
It was a recipe for disaster.
But now, it seems we’ve corrected it.
And without that pressure on the organ in my chest, the one that only ever belonged to one man, I am free to give it away.
34
Vance
Mason’s dark, thick head of hair rests on my chest, and I can tell by how his chin droops that he’s asleep.
My fingers trail up and down his small arm, the one that isn’t in the cast, just appreciating this small but oh so important moment. I’ve been in Brighton for two days, completely ignoring all football responsibilities in favor of spending time mending my son.
Lara walks around the couch and smiles at the sight of us. Pulling out her phone, she aims the camera at us and begins taking photos. I know there must be about twenty-seven of them, because she can never take just one.
“He’s down for the count.” She pushes a lock of Mason’s hair off his forehead as she sits down next to me.
Nuzzling my own head into her shoulder, I nod. “Yes, he is. Brave boy, he’s taking a broken better than I ever have.”
“You broke a bone?” She sounds surprised.
I forget we weren’t together at the time. “About two years before you and I got together. Well, for the first time that is. I broke my collarbone, it hurt like bloody hell for months. I was such a baby about it, Jude and Kingston weren’t sympathetic nurses, to say the least.”
Lara begins to massage my temples lightly with her fingers, and I don’t realize I need the stress relief until she starts doing that.
I’ve tried to keep my own personal issues tucked away while I’ve been here. Lara doesn’t need my shite on top of everything she’s dealing with on the Mason front. If I was scared out of my mind when I found out what happened, she must have been nearly catatonic. I bloody loathe that I wasn’t there to hold her hand in the hospital.
But things at Rogue have gotten so dismal that I don’t even feel any sense of shame for missing this weekend’s academy match. Before Mason, before I realized Lara made me complete, I would have played on a broken leg or if my vision was temporarily disabled. I would have gone out onto that pitch, for that team, even if the coaches had told us there would be snipers firing at us at random. My loyalty has never wavered, until now. Because after a while, when the respect you’re giving isn’t given in return, you stop making such an effort.
And that only causes more stress. Because I’m not the type of person who gives up or stops giving one hundred percent. I feel like shite that I can’t achieve my dream because the club is holding me back, and I also feel like shite because it makes me want to fight against my natural instinct to push myself to the physical and mental limits for my goals.
“Can we go to bed? I want to hold you,” I tell her.
Because right now, that’s all I want to do. I just want to hold on to the person who means the most to me in the entire world. When I got that call from the reporter about Mason’s accident, I was in such a frenzied panic that everything felt unhinged. It felt like my universe
was fleeting, like it was sand falling through the cracks of my fingers and I couldn’t hold onto it fast enough to make the loss stop.
“Blimey, that sounds fantastic.” Lara takes my hand, threading her fingers through mine. “Let’s get him into his crib and then mattress here we come.”
We make quick work of it, having established a bedtime routine when I’m in town. I take off his clothes from the day, take off his wet diaper and wipe him clean. Then we switch; Lara puts on a new diaper and gets him in pajamas while I close the curtains, get his stuffed whale and turn his night-light on. It’s a well-oiled machine now, and a ritual I look forward to.
I shuck off my clothing as Lara goes into the loo attached to her bedroom. Folding down the sheets the way she likes them, I sink into the pillows with a sigh as I wait for her to join me. When she does, in nothing but underwear and a black sleep shirt, her skin smells like the citrusy lotion she rubs into her face each night.
It’s all very domestic and settled and I love it. I never realized this was the life I wanted until it was sprung upon me. Now, I can’t figure out how to cast aside my dreams to get to this point of the day fast enough.
“Hi,” she breathes, moving into my arms that I open to her.
A candle flickers on the dresser across the room, but the vibe between us is not sexual. We’re tired, have been running ourselves ragged. No, this is more about companionship tonight. About comfort and relaxation.
“How are you handling all of this?” I haven’t checked in with her in a while.
Lara blinks. “I’m fine.”
“When a woman says she’s fine, she’s about ten seconds away from murdering a bloke.” I chuckle.
She rolls her eyes. “That’s a thing men say to make us sound crazy.”
I don’t touch that one with a ten-foot pole. I like my bollocks, I’ll keep them where they are.
“But really, are you doing okay? Do you need me here more? Do you need more help? I can hire someone, you’re not in this alone anymore. And no, I don’t mean taking care of you as a baby daddy or some bullshit child support. I mean that I’m in this family now. That I want to take care of you as a man who loves you. Who loves our son.”
Her eyes, with irises the color of the ocean we grew up on, seem to melt.
“I know you want to take care of us. But I mean it, Vance, we’re really doing well. Of course, I wish you were here all the time, but when you’re not, we’re okay. I’m tired, yes, but that’s motherhood. Your parents have been a big help, my mum is stepping up. We’re going to make this work. I want you to take care of us, but I want to take care of you, too. And that means supporting you while you chase your dreams. We can wait for a while.”
She sounds more confident than she ever has before about my career. Lara tips her head up, pressing her lips against mine. The kiss is gentle, warm, lazy, and melts half the bones in my body. Her mouth, the one I’ve dreamed of a thousand nights when we were apart, seems to fit mine and only mine.
But it always nagged me, flicked at the back of my brain. The reason we’d fallen apart in the first place was because I was selfishly pursuing my goals, and Lara didn’t want to be the kind of woman who took a back seat to an athlete’s life.
I could make a decision soon, or I could get called up suddenly. What would happen if I began to start on the first squad in London? Or worse, what if I’m sold to a club across the world?
Yes, we’re making this work. The question is, for how much longer?
35
Vance
“Remus left for Italia FC.”
Kingston shouts into the phone, and I take it away from my ear both over the noise and to check the name on the call.
“Why are you calling me from Jude’s mobile?” I ask.
Jude’s voice comes through. “He’s not. It’s me, this git just spoiled the news by jumping the gun and over-shouting me.”
I roll my eyes because that’s such typical Kingston. “So, what is going on?”
“Have you not read any article or turned on the telly? Are you living under an igloo?” Kingston’s voice is incredulous.
“That’s not helping, King,” I grit out.
Jude clears his throat. “Remus got a better offer from Italia FC this morning. He’s been dating that Italian model for some time, and they win the league every year. There had been rumblings of a rift between him and Niles, and now, well, he’s gone. Rogue FC needs a keeper. You know what that means.”
My heart lurches in my chest at the same time the back of my neck goes slick with nervous sweat. Blimey, this is it. Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve sacrificed years of my life for, it’s all going to come to fruition.
At the same exact moment I think about all of my football dreams coming true, my mind flits over to the dreams that have already come true in my personal life. I promised Lara that I wanted to be there for them, to make this work. And now, at the first sign of Rogue coming to call, I was ready to up and move to London.
She was going to be furious. Maybe. If I can present this to her in a way that makes sense, that enriches our family and can set a good example for Mason then maybe she’ll go for it.
There’s also the issue of the thoughts I’ve been having about going to the Brighton FC manager. The idea dawned on me as I drove to the hospital to see Mason after the accident. If I can play in my hometown, and practice down the road from my family, I can be with them all the time. A keeper of my caliber? Sure, Rogue doesn’t need me but a lesser team in the league would jump at the shot.
Yes, it takes me closer to home, and they are a fair club. But Rogue is my dream. It’s the institution I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into.
This is my chance.
“Have you heard anything?” I ask my two best mates.
“Nothing yet. Word is all the executives are in closed meetings this morning. But we’re going to push as hard as we can for you, mate.” Kingston has that lion-like protectiveness in his tone.
“It’s yours, Vance. We’re all going to be together on the pitch again.” Jude sounds as if he’s nodding, like his master plan is falling into place.
“All right, I have to run. I’m in Brighton and only have limited time with Mason. But if you hear anything, send me a message,” I tell them.
We ring off, and I put it out of my mind. The last thing I want to do when I’m with Mason and Lara is focus on work, and I’m only in Brighton for the next thirty-six hours.
I walk back into the flat, the one I’ve come to think of as home. Lara is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, helping Mason put together a puzzle that, when completed, will show him Old MacDonald’s farm. They’re so intent, sitting there staring at the pieces as she tries to teach our son patience and problem solving.
How am I supposed to tell her I may be leaving for London? Because when I do, I won’t have as lax a schedule as I do now. I’m not a student anymore, so classes and homework don’t apply that’s why the academy professors and headmasters have been giving me a pass when I leave every couple of days to come home to Brighton.
But if I’m called up to London, I don’t know when I’ll be able to see them next. My international travel will be increased, the media I’ll have to do will skyrocket.
Why in the world is Niles Harrington calling me?
My mobile buzzes in my hand once more. Bloody hell, the manager for Rogue Football Club is calling me.
I step outside, back the way I came, to take the call.
The moment feels surreal, as I’ve waited a long time for this call. Will it be the one I’ve hoped for or the one I’ve dreaded? Knowing the situation about what happened this morning with Remus, I’m hoping it’s the former. Because they could go in a completely different direction than me.
“Hello, Vance Morley speaking.” I have no idea why I decide to make my greeting so formal, and I sound like a wanker.
I try to keep my body from cringing with embarrassment.
“Well, Morle
y, we have an opening, and we want you to come and compete for the spot,” Niles says, my ear pressed against the receiver of my mobile.
And if it’s possible, my heart both sinks and soars at the same time. I’ve been waiting fifteen years to hear that Rogue Football Club wants me to come to London and play for them.
But compete? No. Fuck no. I’ve busted my arse for those same fifteen years, waiting for it to be my time. They’ve told me to have patience, that my day in the sun, or in the net depending on who you talk to, would come. Now, it’s being offered, but at a cheapened price.
Inside, the rage begins to spread through my veins, and I know I have to tamp it down, keep it under control. It figures that when my moment came, it wouldn’t be with a bloody parade or complete jubilation, like Jude’s or Kingston’s promotions. No, everything always has to be the hard way for me.
“Thank you, sir.” I’m diplomatic, not allowing any emotion, good or bad, to sway my tone. “I’ll be competing for the starting spot?”
There is clanking in the background, and I can tell that Niles is only half paying attention to me. Which only serves to grate on my nerves more.
“What? Oh, yes, we’re bringing in two other keepers to audition, though we favor you since you’ve been with the club since boyhood. I’ll see you when you get to London.”
And with that, he’s gone.
That phone call should have been one of the best of my life, and as I ring off, I’m left feeling exasperated and annoyed. There is no sense of massive accomplishment or warrior-like victory.
The Mighty Anchor: Rogue Academy, Book Three Page 18