Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  He jumped up out of the chair, suddenly feeling refreshed and invigorated. Just thinking about heading off into town had changed his mood. Running upstairs to the bedroom he grabbed his jacket, taking out his wallet and checking the cash inside. There was at least three hundred pounds in there, but he might need more. It all depended on how the afternoon went. But if recent luck was anything to go by, yeah, he’d need more. He checked his reflection in the mirror and smiled, running his hands through his dark hair. He had a positive feeling about today. It was going to be a good session, he could sense it. However, it wouldn’t hurt to give himself that little extra boost, would it? What harm could it do?

  Pulling open the sideboard drawer he rooted around at the back, finally retrieving the tiny packet he’d hidden from Amber. Taking a credit card out of his wallet he crouched down beside the small glass table by the door of the en-suite and opened the packet, shaking the white powder onto the surface, cutting it with the card, another momentary flash of guilt sweeping over him that caused him to take a step back and stop what he was doing for a second. If Amber ever found out…

  He closed his eyes and tried to put all thoughts of Amber out of his head. He was being careful, and she need never know what he was doing, as long as he kept it discreet and didn’t overdo things. Sliding a fifty-pound-note out of his wallet he rolled it up and leaned back over the table, quickly snorting the white powder, sniffing hard to make sure it reached its destination. He could feel the hit almost immediately. He could feel that warm, calm sensation washing over him and all of a sudden he felt as though he could take on the world. Any guilt he’d felt a few minutes ago was now a thing of the past. He had nothing to feel guilty for. Ryan Fisher was untouchable. He had the world at his feet, could have anything or anyone he wanted, and right now, he wanted a huge dose of lady luck, and anything else that might come his way would be an added bonus.

  Grabbing a towel from the rail in the en-suite he quickly wiped the glass table down, making sure there was no residue left over, nothing that would make Amber suspicious should she get home before him, before slinging it into the washing basket. All done. And now that he was suitably fired up and raring to go there was nothing stopping Ryan from having another afternoon to remember. Jesus, he loved being a fucking footballer…

  *

  ‘Hello there. We meet again,’ Max smiled, approaching Amber as she helped Alec load the equipment back into the van. The interviews had gone well, but now they had to get back to the News North East offices to edit the piece for that evening’s programme so she could do without any distractions. And she really wasn’t in the mood for a conversation.

  She looked at Max, frowning slightly. ‘What can I do for you, Mr…?’

  ‘Max, please. Max Mandell. I’m Ryan’s agent.’ Max held out his hand, which Amber took, shaking it quickly before letting it go.

  ‘Oh, yeah. I remember you now. So, is there something I can do for you, Max?’

  ‘I just need a quick word, if that’s okay?’

  ‘I’m a bit busy, but… Is it something to do with Ryan?’

  Max stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at Amber. ‘In a way, yeah.’

  Amber frowned even more. ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘Has Ryan… Have you noticed anything strange in his behaviour lately?’

  Amber gave Alec a nod that said she was fine, she’d be along in a minute, before turning back to Max. ‘What do you mean, a change? I don’t understand. Ryan is a law unto himself at the best of times so what exactly am I supposed to be looking for here?’

  Max kept his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet slightly as he continued to look at Amber. ‘Is he out a lot? And I don’t mean anything football-related, I mean, out at night, in the evenings. During the day, even. Without you.’

  Amber leaned back against the side of the News North East van, folding her arms. ‘Well, yeah. I suppose he is. But it’s not like we’re joined at the hip, I don’t monitor him 24 hours a day, so… why? What’s the problem?’

  Max arched an eyebrow and Amber felt her skin prickle. Just what was this man trying to say? ‘How much has he told you about his past, Amber?’

  Amber looked at her watch. ‘I thought much of his life had been lived as an open book anyway. Is there anything more to tell?’

  Max gave a small laugh, but a laugh that was full of hidden meaning. ‘Amber, sweetheart, there’s so much about Ryan Fisher that you have no idea about. Believe me.’

  She locked eyes with Ryan’s agent, not sure whether he was being like this out of spite, or because he felt there were things she needed to know. Either way, she wished he hadn’t chosen now to have this conversation. ‘Then tell me. What exactly do I need to know?’

  ‘Maybe you should ask him.’

  ‘No, I’m asking you. You started this, so I think it’s only fair you finish it.’

  ‘He needs pulling into line, Amber. Before it starts happening all over again.’

  ‘Before what starts happening all over again? Listen, Mr. Mandell…’

  ‘Max, please.’

  ‘Max… I’m really busy today, and I don’t have time to stand here playing guessing games…’

  ‘Did you know he’d spent time in a rehab clinic?’

  Amber took a few seconds to digest what Max had just told her. ‘Rehab? I… No, I had no idea. There was… there was no…’

  ‘It was never public knowledge,’ Max went on, knowing just what Amber was trying to say. ‘Only a handful of people knew and, thankfully, that’s the way it still is today.’

  ‘I… I don’t understand,’ Amber said, slightly stunned. Should she be surprised? Given the kind of person Ryan was? ‘Was it… was it drugs?’

  Max shook his head. ‘That wasn’t the major problem, no.’

  ‘That wasn’t the major problem? Max, can you just tell me what’s going on here, please?’

  ‘He was young and stupid; he was earning way too much money at far too young an age. He spent too much time in bars and clubs, gambling that money away in casinos every spare minute he had, drinking himself into oblivion. How it didn’t affect his football more I’ll never know, but he’s obviously one hell of a resilient character…’

  ‘What are you trying to say, Max?’ Amber asked, suddenly feeling something close to agitation.

  ‘It got too much,’ Max went on, looking Amber straight in the eye. ‘He lost so much money, and he’d got himself in so deep he didn’t know how to get out of the hole he’d dug himself into. He was drinking most days, dabbling in drugs…’

  ‘What kind of drugs?’ Amber’s voice was quite calm, considering.

  ‘Coke. It got him through the dark days he’d created for himself, or that’s what he told the rest of us, anyway. Those of us who knew. I’m just glad it all came to a head before he had the chance to dabble any further, or his career really would have been over…’ Max looked at Amber again, her face almost passive as she stared back at him. ‘I don’t know if you remember, Ryan was out with an injury problem a while back. Towards the middle of last season. It kept him out of the game for a good couple of months.’

  ‘I remember,’ Amber said quietly, her mind racing now. She really shouldn’t be surprised that Max was telling her this. But she was.

  ‘We got him into a clinic in the South West. An isolated, private clinic that helped him tackle the problems he’d got himself into – the gambling, the drinking, the… Look, sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to hear this but I really thought you should know.’

  Amber said nothing. She just continued to stare at Ryan’s agent.

  ‘He came out of that clinic a different man. Or, at least, I thought he did. But that’s when we made the decision to get him out of London, to try and get him home, where he belonged. His parents were worried about him, I was worried about him. He’s a fucking amazing player, Amber. A player the likes of which we haven’t seen in a long time, but the bloody idiot just couldn’t handle everything that came wit
h the status this job afforded him. We had to get him out of there. Out of the way of temptation before…’

  ‘Before it started again,’ Amber finished off Max’s sentence. ‘But it didn’t work, did it? Because it’s started anyway, hasn’t it?’

  Max looked briefly down at the ground before meeting Amber’s eyes again. ‘Yeah. I think it has.’

  Amber looked away, squinting into the low winter sun as she stared out at the rows of trees in front of her, the last of their yellow and orange leaves rapidly falling onto the ground below, the sound of traffic speeding by in the distance along the busy motorway. ‘And what do you want me to do about it?’

  ‘I just needed to see it in your eyes, Amber. And one look at you when I was talking there, you knew, didn’t you? You knew that something wasn’t right?’

  Amber swallowed hard, trying to work out why she felt so upset all of a sudden. This wasn’t like her, to feel this way. She’d gone into this relationship knowing Ryan wasn’t a saint, knowing they were a long way off declaring undying love. But a little bit of trust would have been nice. If she’d known the truth…

  Max sighed, pushing a hand through his mop of dark grey hair. ‘Look, I know this isn’t really your problem, but… he needs a steadying influence, Amber.’

  ‘Does he sleep with other women?’ She wasn’t even aware she’d asked that question out loud, but it appeared she had. And she didn’t even know why, because she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

  ‘I don’t know, Amber.’

  ‘Were women part of the problem before? Before he went into rehab?’

  ‘He’s a young, professional footballer, sweetheart. Of course women were part of the problem. He’s one of those players who thinks he’s something close to God half the time and unfortunately there are women out there who believe him. And what kid of his age is gonna turn them down?’

  Amber felt uncharacteristic tears prick the back of her eyes and she had to turn away again. She really was some kind of idiot for getting herself into something that she’d only known would end up this way. Had she learnt nothing from her time with Jim? Why had she ever gone near Ryan in the first place? Because she’d been sucked in by a handsome face and a distraction from Jim, that’s why. Why was she even upset? Despite telling Ronnie otherwise, she knew she’d used Ryan just as much as he’d used her so there was no need for her to be feeling this way. But she couldn’t help it.

  ‘He cares about you, Amber.’

  ‘Does he?’ She looked at Max again. ‘He’s obviously not ready for a relationship, though, is he?’

  ‘But it’s what he needs, and the fact that he asked you to move in with him tells me that somewhere, deep down inside, he knows that. He knows that. He’s just too bloody stubborn to admit it. Too frightened of everything changing.’ Max’s face was deadly serious as he spoke. ‘I care about that kid. I’ve looked after him since he was nineteen-years-old. I’ve seen him hit the big time and then I’ve seen what that did to him, but throughout it all he was still one hell of a brilliant footballer. Now, he nearly lost all of that once, Amber, and if you care anything – anything – for that lad then I’m sure you don’t want to see that talent go to waste.’

  ‘It’s not my problem, though, is it, Max? You said that yourself. I mean, if he doesn’t want to help himself – if he’s willing to push himself to the brink again and bugger the consequences, how can anyone stop him?’

  ‘All I’m saying, Amber, is if you care even just a little bit about him – and I think you do, I really think you do – if you feel anything for Ryan then, please, realise that he needs you. More than you think he does. Right now, he really, really needs you.’

  *

  Ryan closed the door of the hotel room behind him and leaned back against it, watching as the pretty, dark-haired girl with him threw her coat aside and quickly relieved herself of the rest of her clothes before he’d even had a chance to blink. Within seconds she was standing in front of him wearing nothing but black high-heels and a smile that told him she was ready to take him to heaven and back, and all he’d have to do was lie there and enjoy the ride. Jesus, this was one hell of a fucking kick! He’d won big time in the casino, and the adrenalin rush that had given him was still making him feel like he could take on the world. It made him feel like he could do anything, but all he wanted to do right now was lose himself in another round of meaningless sex, no strings attached, no feelings involved.

  The image of Amber waking up that morning in bed beside him, looking all sleepy-eyed and beautiful passed briefly through his mind and he closed his eyes for a second, willing that image to go away. All it was doing was confusing him, making him feel things he didn’t want to feel. He didn’t do complicated, it wasn’t him, he couldn’t do it. Yeah, really? So why did you ask her to move in with you, then? Silencing the argument inside his head he opened his eyes and smiled at the nameless brunette in front of him. Another girl, another pointless fuck that meant nothing, and they never would.

  Ryan Fisher knew what he really wanted; he was just too shit-scared to admit it.

  *

  ‘What do I do, Ronnie?’

  ‘You actually want my opinion on this one, then?’ Ronnie asked as he grabbed a quick drink with Amber in the pub across the road from the News North East building. She’d just finished her evening sports bulletin, but going straight home hadn’t been an option. She needed to talk to someone first, and thankfully Ronnie was up north for a few days, providing that perfect shoulder to lean on.

  Amber looked at Ronnie, nervously chewing on her thumbnail. ‘No. I’m not sure I do now.’

  ‘Why? Because you already know what I’m going to say?’

  She couldn’t actually say anything to that, because he was right.

  ‘Okay,’ Ronnie sighed, sitting back in his seat. ‘So, why ask me to come here in the first place, then? If you already know the answer to your own question?’

  ‘Because I need to talk to somebody, Ronnie. And you’re my best friend.’

  ‘Yeah, I am, Amber. And it’s because I’m your best friend that I’m telling you to back off from Ryan. Don’t get involved, kid.’

  Amber stared down into her half-drunk glass of non-alcoholic lager. She was driving, so the alcohol kick she really needed was just going to have to wait, for now. ‘How can I not be involved, Ronnie? I’m living with the guy.’

  ‘And I still can’t quite work out why you made that crazy decision.’

  ‘Because I…’ She knew why she’d really moved in with Ryan. He was a perfect distraction from Jim Allen, and she’d thought – stupidly – that by moving in with him maybe something stronger would develop between them, a relationship that would actually mean something. Not the most adult of reasons, but Amber’s head was all over the place right now. All rationality had seemingly gone out of the window. ‘Because I wanted to be with him. I still do.’

  ‘Even after everything Max told you this afternoon?’

  ‘Yes. Even after everything Max told me. And don’t you breathe a word of that to anyone, Ronnie. Promise me.’

  ‘I promise. Although, why I should do Ryan Fisher any favours when he seems quite happy to throw his own career away, I don’t know.’

  ‘Ronnie. Please.’ Amber looked back down into her drink.

  ‘Aren’t you even angry?’ Ronnie asked. ‘That he kept all that from you?’

  ‘It’s not like we’re married, is it? We never promised total disclosure of our pasts, never said there’d be no secrets…’

  ‘You’re living together! For Christ’s sake, Amber, what is wrong with you? What’s happened to that level-headed, sensible woman I used to know?’

  ‘I’m confused, alright?’ She looked up at Ronnie, who just stared back at her with an almost incredulous expression on his face. ‘I’m confused. Because I am angry at him for keeping all of that from me, but at the same time I know that our relationship isn’t exactly without complications… Shit!’ She threw herself
back into her seat, pushing a hand through her dark red hair. ‘Sod it, Ronnie; I’m going home to have it out with him. We can’t go on like this. We can’t…’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Ronnie asked, noticing Amber’s sudden change of expression. He followed her gaze, rolling his eyes and sighing heavily again. ‘What’s he doing in here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Amber replied, watching as Jim Allen was stopped by a group of eager Newcastle Red Star supporters on his way to the bar.

  ‘Something to do with you?’ Ronnie asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Amber looked at him, slightly annoyed at the way he was talking to her. Like she was some wayward teenager who needed bringing into line. ‘No, Ronnie, it is not something to do with me. I have as much of an idea as to why he’s here as you do. He’s not someone I’m particularly keen on bumping into. He’s a complication I can do without, believe me.’

  Ronnie leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he stared straight at her. ‘You’ve put Jim Allen to the back of your mind, then, have you? All those years of feeling the way you did about him, they’re all forgotten now, are they? Just like that?’ Amber said nothing, just stared back, giving as good as she was getting. ‘You’ll be telling me you’ve fallen in love with Ryan next.’

  ‘And what if I have?’ She’d surprised even herself with that totally unexpected comment, and that was something that didn’t escape Ronnie’s notice.

  ‘You don’t really believe that, do you, Amber?’

  She sat forward, too, still staring right into Ronnie’s eyes. ‘Maybe that’s been the whole problem all along. Maybe I’ve always known that these feelings were going to rise to the surface at some point but I’ve just been too scared to admit them.’