My heart thuds against my rib cage, and the hope I’ve been trying to tamp down springs eternal.
After the victory celebration, in which we race around the Narta stadium doing laps with the trophy over our heads, we head to the locker room and pop open a few bottles of champagne. My teammates spray it in showers, cheering and talking about the future and how they were going to fly to Paris to celebrate. I enjoy the festivities with them, taking the time to slow down and bask in the jubilation.
Then I shower, don a comfortable outfit of jeans and a T-shirt, and shoulder my backpack.
Pulling out my mobile, there are four missed texts from Poppy.
Poppy: Oh my God! You won!
Poppy: I am so proud of you, babe.
Poppy: We are for sure celebrating when I get home from Los Angeles.
Poppy: This was always your destiny, Kingston. I hope you know that. I’m so happy for you.
She’s in LA for a meeting with a brand, something about an exclusive product they want her to market, and wasn’t able to come to the game. But, my girlfriend is a boss and I didn’t mind. Celebrating the victory afterward with her, preferably on one of our beds, would more than make up for it.
Kingston: Thanks, love. I can’t wait to see you. I miss you. Probably be falling asleep soon here, hope your meeting is going well.
Waiting a few minutes, I don’t see any indication that she read the message or is typing, so I push the phone into my pocket and head out. A bunch of the guys are still partying in the locker room, but I’m knackered.
When I walk out, into the halls of the Narta building, I’m truly stunned at who is standing in the hallway before me.
“Brilliant match, Kingston.” Niles Harrington is leaning against the wall and pushes off when he sees me nearing.
“Niles, I didn’t know you’d be here.” I’m a little out of my element here, completely thrown off guard by him showing up.
“That was a bit of the point. I wanted to see what you’d do if there wasn’t anything riding on this match.” His usual chilly demeanor is in place.
The bloke has always kind of spooked me, and not only because he held my career in his hands. Niles Harrington always seems two or three steps ahead of anyone else, and I’ve always secretly thought he could read minds. Every time I speak, it’s like he sees right through whatever it is I’m trying to feed him.
“And what did you think, sir?” Did I just drop a sir? Who was I?
“My frustration with you was never over your match play. You’re extremely gifted, Kingston. My problem was your attitude. You have all of this talent that you were wasting, and as not only a coach but a person … it’s bloody hard to watch. You made it acceptable to the other players on my squad to slack off; I had to put my fist down. And for your benefit too, I could see you struggling with your place in this world. Do you want it bad enough? Are you willing to put in one hundred and twenty percent of the effort being at this level takes?”
His words sink in, and I nod slowly. “When you loaned me out, I hated you. I was surly and arrogant, and you’re right, I had no idea if I really wanted to play football. But being here taught me that I love this game regardless of what it means to be a Phillips.”
Niles nods, his eyes cutting sharply to mine. A beat passes, my future hanging in the air between us.
“Come back to Rogue. You passed the test, you proved yourself. There will be a car waiting outside of your hotel, we’ll need you back for practice tomorrow so get packed and head to London. Oh, and Kingston, no more need to measure up to who your father wants you to be. He might be considered one of the best to ever play, but I always thought he had rather dodgy footwork.”
He doesn’t want an answer, because there is only one I could honestly give. I’d never turn his offer down, he knows that. It’s why Niles walks off silently into the dark corridor, not waiting to hear what I have to say.
And that line he slipped in about my father? Blimey, it seems I’ve underestimated my manager.
I barely have time to process the last five minutes, save the last few hours. In a heartbeat, I’m moving toward the car, being driven to my hotel, packing up, and heading to London. I text Donnie and Finnegan, telling them the news, and that I’ll try to get back for one of their games soon. It’s a whirlwind, and there are about a hundred things to think about, but I’ll never forget what those blokes have done for me.
The drive back to London sees me trying to ring Poppy about seven times, to no success. Where she is, I have no idea, and I feel like I might burst with the news if I don’t tell someone soon. I text Jude, though he’s probably sleeping since it is the middle of the night. Although, I don’t tell him I’m coming back to Rogue. It will be hilarious to see the look on his face when I show up to practice tomorrow.
Finally, the car stops in front of Charlton House, the streets of Belgravia quiet. I wave to the night receptionist and make my way to the lifts, toting my two bags with me. It will be bloody heaven sleeping on my expensive mattress fitted with expensive sheets. That’s one thing I’ve missed about London, maybe even more than the
As if this night couldn’t get any stranger, there is another person standing in a hallway waiting for me.
“What are you doing here?” It’s well past a decent time of night, and there should be no reason he’d want to talk to me anyway.
“I wanted to make sure you got home.” He pushes off the wall, the bulk of him settling onto the floor with a grunt.
“Dear old Dad, finally caring about me. Never thought I’d see the day.” Sarcasm drips from my tone as I turn to face my father.
“I wanted to make sure you were home so that you got a good night of rest and didn’t embarrass the Phillips name tomorrow. You’ve mucked up enough for your mother and I and you’ve gotten a second chance. Don’t squander it.”
Ah, there he is, the mean old bastard I know and didn’t even remotely like. “Thanks for the brilliant pep talk. Now get out of my building.”
How had he even gotten up here in the first place?
“Don’t disrespect me. I’m your father, I’ve given you everything you have in this life. This flat? Bought with money I helped supply you with, in one way or another. My blood runs in your veins, that talent you have is a gift from me!”
My father is so irate, there is spit gathering at the corners of his mouth, as if he’s a rabid animal. I think he can tell I’ve finally reached the point where I’m free from his ridicule. Something happened to me in Nartanica, and perhaps that was the realization that I can walk out from under his boot whenever I bloody please.
“Whatever the genetics of yours running in my veins, those are the ones that have poisoned me for twenty-one years. The ones that made me believe I’d never measure up. The voice of doubt in my head causing me to waste so much time wondering if I could be a bloody Phillips. And now I know … I don’t have to be any part of you. I am me. Kingston. It doesn’t matter what surname is on the back of my kit, it’s the man wearing it and how he conducts himself that matters. And I conduct myself loads better than you ever have.”
“You foul little git.” My father advances on me, pinning me to the wall opposite my front door and leaning in hard with his elbow on my neck.
It doesn’t escape me that with one swift blow to the temple, I could overpower him.
“What are you going to do? Choke me? Hit me? Go ahead, your words, along with your actions, mean nothing anymore,” I taunt him, cursing him as he holds my throat in his clutches.
Because it’s true, he can’t touch me anymore. Not on an emotional level, that is. I know who I am, and he can no longer affect me.
By some grace of God, the lift doors open, and out walks the woman who has managed to change me in every way possible.
“What are you … how?” Momentarily, I forget my father is there, because I’m so shocked to see her.
Her aqua irises flick to my father pinning my against the wall. Her eyes go ice cold, but she ans
wers my question anyway. “I decided to leave early. I was going to try to surprise you in Nartanica tomorrow. But I’m glad I caught you here.”
My father takes his hands off me, jumping back as if all of Scotland Yard’s forces just came up to the penthouse floor. He never could stand to have his image tainted, even if he was a monster inside his own home. Smile for the cameras and remain upstanding citizens to the public, that was his number one priority.
Smoothing my shirt where he rumpled it, I pick up my bags, walking to my door. Poppy meets me there, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her body to mine. Just having her here, feeling the warmth bleeding through our respective clothing … it comforts me in a way I never realized I needed before.
“Get out of here. And don’t come back. I don’t want to see you at my matches. If you show up, I’ll have stadium security ban you. Don’t make me do that, I know how you love keeping your image tidy.”
“You daft twi—”
Poppy cuts him off, her voice stony. “He told you to leave.”
While my father has strength on his side, Poppy has about a foot on him, his Italian stature more short and stocky than long and lean. I get my build from my mother. It’s comical to see my girlfriend tower over my father, a glare on her face as she peers down her nose at him.
“What is this? Your pussy protection squad?” My father practically spits.
“Yes. And her bite is meaner than her bark. Leave.” I stare him down.
After a second or two, he huffs off, jabbing the button for the lift. When it arrives, he marches in, sending one last glare over his shoulder as the doors close.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding and drop my bags, pulling Poppy in tighter and burying my nose in her hair.
“Blimey, am I glad to see you.” I hold her close.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers.
And I know she’s not just talking about being asked to return to RFC. No, she means that I finally stood up for myself and the fact that Poppy knows how monumental that is speaks volumes about how deep the relationship between us really is.
31
Poppy
About a week after Kingston arrives back in London, Jude invites us on a trip to New York City to see Aria sing in her first stadium-sized concert.
And to celebrate the end of football season. Not that football is ever over, the blokes have an international friendly in three short weeks, but the break is sport wide and allows the players to get some rest and relaxation.
I have to fly in separately from Milan, where I am walking in a runway show for an Italian brand, but I’m happy to do it. I haven’t gotten much face time with Kingston’s friends, and this might be the trip where we all bond and become mates. While I love spending alone time with Kingston, I’ve never had a group. I’ve never had friends who included me in their plans, or a boyfriend to go on double dates with our couple friends. It seems so normal, almost like we’re living the real lives of twentysomethings, rather than the ridiculous ones we actually do. I’ll take all the normal I can get.
As for seeing Aria in concert, I’m excited. The first album she released last year has become one of my go-to listens when I travel or drive, and her voice is spellbinding. She was asked to open up for a high-profile pop singer, and while I know she’s nervous, she’s also going to be smashing.
The four of us are in the back of a limo, driving through the crowded, bustling streets of arguably the most notorious city on earth, and so far, the trip has been amazing. We’ve only been here a day, but we spent it lounging on a blanket in Central Park for lunch, and then Aria and I did some damage to our credit cards on the streets of New York, while the men went to tour Yankee Stadium. I convinced her to buy a slinky silver dress at Saks, while I picked up a sheer white coat at Bergdorf Goodman I’ve been eyeing for months.
It’s eight p.m., but by the way this city shines, you’d never know it. Times Square is lit up like a disco ball, and everywhere you look there are sounds and smells. I live in one of the biggest cities in the world, but nothing compares to the Big Apple. This place, every crevice and corner of it, is simply … alive.
“I can’t wait to eat, I’m starving!” Kingston whines and rubs his stomach which I know for a fact is something carved of stone.
“You’re always starving.” Aria rolls her eyes at him. “One time, I had these blokes over to my row home in Clavering … Kingston ate almost an entire roast chicken, and then asked for a third helping of pudding at dessert!”
“Doesn’t surprise.” I chuckle. “He lives right next door and inevitably comes over to raid my entire pantry.”
“I raid more than that.” He nuzzles into my neck, tickling me and I squirm while a blush ravages my cheeks.
“Leave Poppy alone, she’s far too classy for your innuendos. There is a chef’s kitchen at Madison Square Garden, apparently, they’ll even hand roll sushi for you.” Jude rubs his hands together.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to eat a morsel, I’m so nervous … what if I’m booed off stage?” Aria looks a little green, and her boyfriend reaches over to clasp her hand in his.
But I’m the one who interjects. “Are you joking? You’re going to smash it! It’s okay to be nervous, I was before every single one of my early runway shows. But don’t be nervous about your own talent. I swear, Aria, you’re my favorite artist right now. I wouldn’t just say that to blow smoke, you know that. I’m honest—”
“And harsh, so you know you can trust her opinion when she compliments you.” Kingston nods emphatically.
“He’s right. I’ve been known to be a bitch. But about your performance, I’m not bluffing.”
She tips her head, smiling at me in thanks, but I can tell she’s still uneasy. “How are you all so calm when you have to go out there in front of people? I swear, I’ll never get used to it.”
Kingston shrugs. “Eh, just picture everyone naked, love.”
“Is that what you do? Picture the sniveling, enormous, ruddy blokes nude in the stands during matches?” Jude cackles.
“Prick.” Kingston smacks the back of Jude’s head.
I reach across the limo to squeeze Aria’s hand.
We arrive at Madison Square Garden, the humongous circular structure built into the side of New York’s Penn Station teaming with lights and fans and vendors hocking street food. It’s glorious, and the four of us are shown to a private entrance where we’re then led to a hallway of dressing rooms.
“Oh my God, my name is on the door,” Aria squeals, and I’m excited for her.
I’ve been doing things like this my whole young adult life, but I remember when the newness hadn’t yet worn off. When every moment seemed extraordinary and it was as if everything you dreamed of was coming true. It was a beautiful thing to view it through another’s eyes.
A hair and makeup team come in and start working on Aria, and the boys go off to find food. I stay in the background as Aria’s manager gives her pointers, and only speak up when there is a lull and I have a small piece of encouragement to give.
An hour and a half later, it’s time for her to go on. She’s wearing these fabulous knee-high crushed velvet boots paired with a romper that is both sophisticated and fun. It’s exactly the type of outfit I would have picked for her first show.
The microphone in her hand is shaking with nerves as she peeks through the curtains hiding us from the view of thousands.
“Blimey, that’s a lot of people.”
I correct her. “A lot of fans. These people came here to see you. Just be yourself, sing the words you put to paper.”
“Or don’t, and they’ll throw tomatoes at you,” Kingston quips, and I give him a murderous glare.
But Aria just laughs. “No, actually, that might be better. Heckle me before I get on stage, it’ll take the edge off.”
I grin. “In that case, you have a terrible voice and are a mean girl.”
“Hey, don’t spread that codswallop about
my daughter.”
Aria whips around, the biggest smile stretching across her face.
“Dad? DAD! What are you doing here? Oh my God!” Aria runs to him, flinging herself into her father’s arms and then turning to look at Jude. “Did you know about this?”
“Who do you think convinced him to get on a plane?” Jude laughs, walking over to shake Aria’s father’s hand.
My smile is a mix of jubilation for Aria—I know how close she and her father are and it’s nice that he traveled all this way for her first American show—but it’s tinged with bitterness, for a relationship I’ll never know with my parents.
When I turn to lean into Kingston because I could use an extra hug right now, he’s no longer standing next to me.
I whip around, watching as the door to the stage slams closed. My heart sinks, because I have a feeling why Kingston just bolted.
It takes me a few minutes, and I’m a hundred percent sure I’m lost in the maze of this arena, but I eventually find my boyfriend sitting against a wall near a bank of golf carts used to quickly zip around the place.
Gingerly, I join him, making sure to sit so that our knees brush, but not moving to touch him with my hands.
“I should have told you something when you confessed to me about your assault.” Kingston ducks his head, and I see him chewing on the inside of his cheek.
My mind flashes back to that day in the cafe with Aria and what she told me. As if I have a sixth sense, I already know what Kingston is about to divulge. I am not going to tell him I already knew … no, that would serve no purpose. Plus, I only know the information from Aria’s account of it. He deserves to have me sit next to him, holding his hand, while he recounts it to me.
“Last night, in the hallway … that wasn’t the first time my father put his hands on me. It’s not been an often occurrence, but it’s not rare either. Before I was recruited for the Rogue Academy, so before my seventh birthday, it was just verbal abuse. I don’t mean to say just, God knows that stuck in my mind far more than his punches, slaps, or yanks ever did. All of it … it leaves behind marks, but it also leaves behind this emotional trauma you can never wipe clean. As hard as I try, I can never rub the stain of it off my soul. Why can’t my parents be normal? Why can’t they love me, like that? Fly halfway across the world just because they’re proud of what I’ve accomplished. Bloody hell, I don’t mean to be a whiny twit, but I have never gotten one ounce of the love Aria gets from her dad, from my father. And because of it, I’m all fucked up. It’s taken years to be able to express my emotions properly, but before that, I was riding around on top of limousines just to get attention. I almost threw my career away. I shut myself off so brutally that I almost lost out on the chance to be with you.”
The Lion Heart: Rogue Academy, Book Two Page 16