by Kyra Lennon
“Yes. I can’t wait. I wish you could come with me.”
“Me too. I’m already jealous of the guys who’ll have the chance to dance with you.”
“There’ll be no dancing,” I laughed. “Not slow dancing anyway. I save that for you.”
Miguel’s eyes softened like he wanted to say something more but instead, he kissed me again.
“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
Before he left, he gave me a warm smile, and everything was right with the world again.
A couple of hours later, after tending to Bryce’s groin strain, another sprained ankle, and sending Jude to hospital after he re-injured his knee during training, I had to meet Cody Rivera on the pitch to go through some simple back exercises with him. I’d recently started treating Cody for spondylosis - a disorder which affects spinal function - after he complained of back pain and stiffness. He was officially out of any matches for the next few weeks but he came to training every day to watch. Such was his dedication, he didn’t mind doing his exercises out on the pitch so he still felt like a part of the team.
Rivera already knew the exercises. My job was to stop him overexerting himself. He was desperate to get back to work, but his enthusiasm caused him to push too hard, risking making his condition even worse.
I loved working out on the field. First of all, it meant I wasn’t stuck in my stuffy office in the blazing heat. It had air conditioning, but it didn’t compare to being out in the open. Secondly, I got to see Richard, Will, Freya and Miguel put the Warriors through their paces. It fascinated me to watch them working together, all so focused and strict.
Cody was doing knee lifts when some shouting caught my attention. A certain amount of noise was normal, but someone had yelled out for Richard and I whipped my head around to see what was happening.
I’m certain my heart stopped beating for a second.
Miguel was on the ground between the goalposts, tightly holding the ball he’d saved. Radleigh towered above him and I’d looked over just as he drove his foot into Miguel’s stomach, a dangerous look on his face. The shock forced Miguel to lose his grip on the ball but McCoy kicked him again, harder than before. Everyone on the pitch ran over to stop him, but he managed to get one last blow in before he was dragged away, leaving Miguel curled up in pain.
I sped across the grass even though my legs were shaking from the brutal beating I’d just witnessed. Richard called for the medics, and I knelt down beside Miguel.
“Leah,” he mumbled. “I’m okay.”
Gently stroking his cheek, I said, “Really?”
He gave a weak laugh. “Not really but I will be.”
The medics were quick to reach us and I stepped aside so they could help him to his feet. He was shaking, and clutching his stomach tightly.
“We’re gonna take him to the E.R,” one of the medics said. “He’ll need to be checked for broken ribs, and any other internal damage.”
Internal damage? If McCoy had seriously injured Miguel, I’d kill him with my bare hands.
“Can I come with you?” I asked.
Miguel shook his head. “If you come it'll be a lot of waiting around. You should stay here and keep working.”
“Are you sure? Because I don't mind waiting around.”
“I'm sure,” he told me. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve been checked over, okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll see you later.”
As the medics took Miguel away, Freya put her arm around me, “Are you okay?”
No words came at first. The past few minutes had rushed by in a blur. One minute I’d been supervising Rivera’s exercises, the next I’d seen Radleigh kicking the crap out of my boyfriend.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What happened?”
“McCoy flipped out when Miguel saved his goal. He looked furious. I’ve never seen him do anything like that before.”
I knew he was angry about Taylor telling Richard what he’d done, but it never occurred to me that he would be irate enough to lash out that way. The image of his foot thudding into Miguel’s stomach kept playing over and over in my head.
My eyes flicked around the field but Radleigh was nowhere in sight. Without thinking, I ran off the pitch and straight to the locker room, barging in without knocking. McCoy was rifling through his sports bag, but looked up as I entered. His blue eyes had never looked icier. Did he even care that he’d just put Miguel in hospital? I wanted to scream at him, but the fury burning through me made it impossible to speak. After glaring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Radleigh said, “Get out of here, Leah. I have nothing to say to you.”
And release.
“How about an apology?” I snapped. “You took out your own aggression on an innocent person and that is not on!”
“You're right. It's not right to take out your aggression on an innocent person but that's what Taylor's doing to me!”
“So you thought beating the crap out of Miguel would make you feel better?”
“Yes. And it did.”
Shaking my head in disgust I said, “You weren't beating up Miguel, you were using him to attack me. What you did was personal. You may as well have kicked me because I felt every single bit of pain you inflicted on him! What kind of person would take such pleasure in hurting someone else?”
“Maybe someone who was falsely accused of harassment! Someone who couldn't make anyone hear what they're trying to say! Someone who is so damn angry that they had to get rid of the frustration somewhere!”
“You can protest your innocence all you want, but you're not fooling me. And if you wanted to get rid of your anger, you could have gone to the gym and beaten the hell out of a punch bag, but instead you used Miguel because you knew it would hurt me!”
“And you say I'm arrogant,” he muttered sarcastically.
“So tell me,” I challenged. “Tell me that what you did to Miguel had nothing to do with me?”
“It had everything to do with you! You -”
“Stop right there!” Richard’s voice bellowed, looking furious.
McCoy was standing over me, yelling, and while I hadn't been in the least bit afraid, I understood why Richard would think I might be. McCoy took a step away from me as Richard advanced on him.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded. “First you’re accused of harassment, which I would have thought would be enough to make you lay low for a while, but instead you took your anger out on Vega! Now you're yelling at Leah as if it's her fault you're in this mess! With the accusation Taylor made against you and what you just did, you’re being issued with a four week suspension, effective immediately.”
I had never seen Richard so wound up. His entire body was tense, and his face red with rage.
Radleigh stared first at Richard then at me before growling, “That's not fair.”
“Well get used to it,” Richard told him. “Because it's happening.”
Miguel came out of the hospital a few hours later, and thankfully, the only damage McCoy had done to him was severe bruising. Just because his ribs weren’t broken, it didn’t make me any less angry. After my confrontation with Radleigh, it had taken me hours to calm down. I’d stopped vibrating with rage but a steady stream of vexation still flowed through me. I wasn’t just angry though. Every clash I’d ever had with Radleigh had prompted his attack.
I felt guilty.
Freya drove me to Miguel’s apartment after work, and as I climbed the steps to his Spanish style home, I stopped to glance around at the neighbourhood. The beauty of it always knocked me out. The terracotta roofs and the perfectly manicured lawns were so different to my beachfront flat. It was peaceful and private, and although curtains probably twitched when someone unknown walked by, it felt like the neighbours were more likely to fling open their doors and say hello instead of calling the people next door to ask why there was a stranger in their midst.
Opening the d
oor to Miguel’s apartment, I called out to him. His answer came from the living room where he was sitting in his gigantic leather chair with an ice pack over his ribs.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been kicked in the stomach by a big footed soccer player,” he replied with a smile.
I dropped my bag down in the hallway and walked over to where he sat.
“Let me see.”
Miguel lifted the ice pack, then carefully shifted his t-shirt to reveal an array of purple and black bruises across his stomach.
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Liar.”
He grimaced. “I’m lying a bit, but the painkillers help. I’ve got the next few days off, but after that I’m still going in to work to help where I can. Richard said I can go in and out when I want.”
“Did he tell you he suspended McCoy?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure that was a smart move though.”
“What?” I screeched. “After what he did to you, he’s lucky he wasn’t fired!”
Smiling at my concern, he said, “Four weeks without him on the team is a long time. And if Jude has to take leave for his knee-”
“Minimum of six weeks,” I interrupted. “We got the call before I left.”
“Crap.”
It surprised me that I’d started to care about the team. Obviously I cared about the players, they were my workmates, but I didn’t realise I was interested in how they would fare in the soccer league. To have McCoy and Collinson out would be a huge blow, and talented as the others were, it would be a struggle without them.
My eyes rested on his bruises again and I felt another stab of guilt.
“I think this was my fault.”
“Your fault? No, Leah -”
“It was my fault,” I repeated. “He did this to you because he and I argued earlier. I'm so sorry.”
Miguel reached out and took my hand, “Don't blame yourself, angel.”
“How can I not? If I hadn't-”
“McCoy's got a temper, and whether you’d argued with him or not, he would still have been angry about being accused of harassment. You didn't cause what happened.”
He was wrong, but I didn't have the heart to carry on trying to convince him. What good would it have done anyway? The damage was already done.
“Look on the bright side,” Miguel said. “He’s been suspended. Now you won’t have to deal with him for a while.”
I didn't deserve him.
He’d been viciously assaulted, and all he was thinking about was me, and the fact that my life would be easier without McCoy around.
I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his head so our lips met. He put his hand up to my cheek.
“I love you, Leah.”
Warmth began to spread through me as I took in his words. There was never a time when I had believed a person more than that moment.
“I love you too.”
.
Chapter 10: Oh God, Let Me Be Hallucinating
I was getting quite used to my life being an odd mix of spectacular and awkward, and the next week pushed me to my limits. I hesitate to use such a cliché, but I was on cloud nine after Miguel told me he loved me. I spent as much time as I could with him, nursing him back to health with my own special method of ice packs and riding him like a – slightly injured – pony.
Another thing making me happy was seeing Jesse being selected in the starting line-ups, instead of being brought on in the final minutes of a game. With McCoy out, Jesse was given the chance to prove why he was Westberg’s youngest signing and his reputation was growing with every match.
The downside was that Taylor still hadn’t told him about Radleigh. His suspension for attacking Miguel was a great cover story to hide the harassment claims, so Jesse was still completely in the dark. No matter how much I tried to encourage Taylor to tell him, she refused, saying she didn’t want to cause any more trouble. It was a tough situation to be in. The media interest in McCoy made it difficult for her to figure out what to do next. If the story got out, it wouldn’t only mean bad news for him, it would mean Taylor would have to deal with the paparazzi demanding all the details. Nobody needed to be under that kind of scrutiny, especially not an eighteen-year-old girl who’d done nothing wrong.
It was a welcome relief when I flew out of L.A for Boston. After all the stresses of the past few days, and the long flight, I was eager to go to bed but when I arrived at my old flat late that night, Stacey presented me with a glass of wine. It would have been rude not to drink it.
Plus three more.
The next morning I had a long lie-in followed by a lazy breakfast with Stacey, before heading to the mall in search of a new outfit to wear to the party. If I could have got away with it, I’d have worn my super expensive red dress, but a wedding called for something a little more classy. There’s nothing worse than upstaging the bride by accidentally flashing a bum cheek.
After walking around for a few hours, I eventually settled on the very simple royal blue one shoulder dress I’d spotted in the first shop I went in, plus a few pairs of jeans and some strappy sandals.
“Stace!” I called, as I struggled through the front door with my bags, “I think I got carried away!”
Stacey came into the hallway looking a bit nervous. She didn't even give into a smile when she saw all of my shopping, but I was too busy struggling to take much notice.
“No kidding,” she said, helping me regain the use of my hands, and we piled the bags down on the floor. “Leah-”
She didn't get chance to finish her sentence but she didn't need to. As I entered the lounge, I stopped dead and did a double take.
Sitting on the sofa in his usual, rather smug manner, was Radleigh McCoy.
Oh God, please let me be hallucinating.
“Hello Leah.”
About a million thoughts flooded into my head at once and I looked from McCoy to Stacey in utter shock. The first words to tumble out of my mouth were, “How the hell did you find out where I am?”
Radleigh raised an eyebrow. “I know people.”
“Well you should tell them that if I ever find out who they are, their lives will be at serious risk. How long have you been here?”
“About a half hour.”
“I tried to call you,” Stacey jumped in, “but I was redirected to your voicemail.”
“Why did you let him in?” I asked, turning to her. “You should have told him to leave.”
Stacey was an attractive woman, with her blonde hair cut in a sleek bob and her slight figure. I wouldn't have put it past him to make a move on her. Even more worrying than that was his very presence in Boston. After his suspension we’d parted on bad terms, yet he was sitting on Stacey’s sofa as though he didn't have a care in the world.
“I'm sorry. He said he was a friend of yours and, well-” she trailed off, and I could almost hear her thinking, 'It's Radleigh McCoy!'
“It's okay, Stace. It’s not your fault.” Turning back to Radleigh, I said, “You have to go.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“So go home and call me. I don't want you here. For one thing, it is completely inappropriate, and for another, I have nothing to say to you.”
“Leah, I came all the way from L.A. to see you.”
He looked so very sure of himself that my heart began to pound. Why would he possibly want to see me when he was so angry with me the last time we saw each other?
“Well,” Stacey said, “I need to take a shower, so I’ll leave you guys to talk.”
Radleigh openly leered at her. “Need me to scrub your back?”
Stacey wasn’t sure whether to smile or not, but one look at the incredulity on my face gave her all the answer she needed, and she headed for the bathroom.
Radleigh leaned back, tucking his hands behind his head as if he were a regular visitor. “Stacey's real nice. She made me a coffee.”
“Well, I’m
not nice. You have thirty seconds to tell me why you're here.”
He let out a deep sigh. “I need you to help me.”
“Oh, don't even start,” I told him, shaking my head. “Any chance you ever had of me helping you was blown right out of the window when you put Miguel in hospital.”
And the chances were slim before.
Radleigh’s next retort was lost as there was a knock at the door. It was just after four-thirty, and I was pretty sure Stacey wasn’t expecting anyone. I turned my back on McCoy to answer it, and was immediately bundled into a hug by Billy, Stacey's boyfriend. I loved Billy. He had all the looks of a rugged bad boy but really, he was nothing but a big softy.
“Leah!” he said. “It’s been too long! How are you?”
“I'm fine,” I answered, returning his hug. “How are you? And why are you here already? You're not supposed to be picking us up until later.”
“Yeah I know,” he said, glancing briefly at my shopping bags which were still all over the floor. “But I realised on my way home that the shirt I want to wear tonight is here.”
“Help yourself,” I told him. “You know where it is better than I do.”
“Thanks Leah,” he said, opening the door to Stacey's room. “Where is Stace anyway?”
“She's in the shower,” I replied. “You know what girls are like, it takes us forever to tart ourselves up.”
“You're not wrong,” Billy laughed, his voice muffled as he rummaged around in the wardrobe. “Though it's always worth the effort!”