Striker (Book 1 in the 'Striker' Trilogy)

by Michelle Betham

  Debbie sat back, crossing her legs. ‘So, Ryan was the only one who…’ Suddenly, the proverbial penny seemed to drop and she sat up again, her expression changing instantly. ‘That night – the night Ryan got completely wasted in town, the night he tried to… When Gary called you…’

  ‘I was at Jim’s. That’s why it took me longer to get there.’

  ‘That’s why he was in such a state,’ Debbie gasped, looking right at Amber. ‘Isn’t it? He couldn’t hack you and Jim being together.’

  Amber shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Debbie.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Amber. I’ve never seen anyone in such a state before, and believe me, when you’ve lived with Gary as long as I have you’d think I’d be used to seeing shit like that. But that night, Ryan, he… he was a broken man, chick. I thought he’d just got himself into that state because he couldn’t hack the fact you’d left him, but, leaving him for his boss… Jesus! He must really love you…’

  Amber tried to tune her out; she didn’t want to hear anymore. All the time she’d assumed everything was slowly starting to fall into place when really it was still nothing but a huge mess. And tonight hadn’t helped.

  ‘So, out there. With you and Jim,’ Debbie went on, sitting back and relaxing into the comfortable cushions of the sofa again. ‘What was all that about?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Amber sighed, staring out ahead of her, mindlessly watching the crowds down by the bar below them, everybody mingling, laughing, having a good time. Was that what Ryan was doing now? Having a good time? ‘He won’t give up, Debs. Jim, he… he keeps telling me Ryan isn’t good for me, that he can never love me like he can but how can I believe anything he ever tells me when he lied so many times before? When he hurt me the way he did?’ She looked at Debbie, wishing she hadn’t had to tell her any of this because the more people who knew about her and Jim Allen, the more chance there was of their past history being revealed.

  ‘I won’t tell a soul,’ Debbie said quietly, taking Amber’s hand and squeezing it gently, almost as if she’d read her mind. ‘Not even Gary. I promise.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Amber smiled. ‘And – and please don’t think that I have any intention of letting what happened out there go any further because it’s over, between Jim and me. It’s past history.’

  ‘It can’t be easy, though. For any of you. All working so closely with each other.’

  Amber looked down at her hand as Debbie continued to hold onto it. ‘We’ve just all got to accept that things change, haven’t we? Whether we like it or not.’

  *

  ‘Jesus – fucking – Christ!’ Ryan groaned as Emmie’s mouth closed in on him, taking him on a ride to heaven that seemed like it was never going to end, and he wasn’t in any kind of hurry for it to be over. His head was spinning, his body didn’t even feel like it belonged to him anymore but he didn’t care. Why would he? When he had one pretty, naked woman between his legs and another with her quite obviously fake breasts pushed up against his face? He hadn’t done this kind of shit since leaving London and he‘d almost forgotten how much of a rush it could be. He felt on fire! Like he could take on the world. Ryan Fisher was back on top form, doing what he did best, and there wasn’t anything that could make him regret what was happening now because this was who he was – he was King of the fucking world! Women loved him, men wanted to be him, and he couldn’t help that, could he? He couldn’t help being fucking amazing!

  He opened his eyes as he felt Emmie move back up the bed, sliding along his naked body with the ease of someone who’d done this many times before, and maybe she had, maybe she hadn’t. Maybe she was just extremely good at turning men on, he had no idea. All he knew was that she was now lying beside him, leaning over him to kiss Jenna, her hand reaching down to hold him, stroke him, take him on another crazy ride. And all he had to do was lie back, hold on, and let them do all the work.

  *

  Seeing Jim had taken the edge off her night, to some extent. Things felt so out of her control all of a sudden and all Amber really wanted to do was find Ronnie and escape somewhere quiet to try and work out what it was she really wanted to do with the rest of her life. Just a few short hours ago, when Ryan had made love to her, she’d thought that was it, all sorted. She’d fallen in love, and despite all her previous reservations about falling for a footballer, she’d thought she’d known that marrying Ryan and spending the rest of her life with him was all she wanted to do. But if seeing Jim on a night that was supposed to celebrate her impending wedding – if that had opened up this box of doubts then surely she needed to think about this just a little bit more?

  Despite the late hour she quickly tapped Ronnie’s number into her phone, leaning back against the slightly uncomfortable seat as the taxi travelled through the quiet Newcastle streets. She stared out of the window as they crossed the River Tyne, looking down at the Arena, smiling as she remembered all the gigs her and Ronnie had gone to there over the years – some of which she’d had to drag him to, rather unwillingly. But they’d always had such great times. Why did she suddenly feel as though everything was changing all of a sudden? Like she was never going to experience times like those again.

  ‘Hey, kiddo.’ Ronnie’s voice seemed unusually chirpy as he answered her call, despite it being so late. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Erm… I didn’t wake you, did I?’ She was aware of another voice in the background – was she interrupting something? Oh God, sometimes she forgot he actually had a life of his own. She really had to try and stop being so selfish, calling him every time she needed a shoulder to cry on, but he was the only one who really understood her. The only one she felt she could really turn to, and over the past few weeks their relationship had felt as though it was shifting somewhere she didn’t really want it to go and she was scared. Scared of losing him. She was really scared.

  ‘No. No, you didn’t wake me, sweetheart. Is everything alright? Because you only usually ring me at this hour when you’ve got something on your mind. Do you want to talk?’

  She could definitely hear someone else in the background and her heart sank. She knew he was back in the North East, back home for a little while, and she’d hoped she could have diverted the taxi in the direction of his Northumberland home. She’d hoped she could have spent the rest of the night sitting up with her best friend, watching rubbish TV, eating Chinese food and talking, because that’s what she really felt like doing right now. It was all she felt like doing. But it sounded like he already had company.

  ‘It can wait,’ she said, not wanting to take him away from whatever he was doing – and whoever he was with. Ronnie deserved a life, too. He wasn’t responsible for trying to make her feel better about mistakes she might have made or decisions she couldn’t make. She was just being stupid, anyway. All these doubts she was suddenly having about Ryan and marriage and her life changing in a way she could never have predicted this time last year, they were all normal, weren’t they? They were nothing unusual. And surely she’d have more to worry about if she wasn’t feeling anxious?

  ‘You sure?’ Ronnie asked, not hiding the fact someone else was there with him now as he whispered something Amber couldn’t make out to whoever was there with him. ‘We can meet up tomorrow, if you like?’

  ‘It’s fine, really. I guess it’s just late and I’ve had a bit too much to drink.’

  ‘Oh, shit, Amber…’ Ronnie said, realisation suddenly flooding his voice. ‘It was your Hen Night, wasn’t it?’

  ‘One of them, yeah,’ Amber sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose.

  ‘Second thoughts?’ Ronnie asked, with more than a hint of expectation in his tone.

  ‘No,’ Amber replied, probably a touch more defensively than she’d meant it to sound. But weren’t people just waiting for her and Ryan to mess up? Isn’t that what they wanted? To all be proved right? ‘No. Not really.’

  ‘Not really?’

  And she just knew he was arching an eyebrow when he as
ked that. She knew he was.

  ‘It’s been a funny old night, that’s all. There’s just a lot to get my head around. Still.’

  Ronnie said nothing for a second, and she was sure she could hear him telling the person there with him to be quiet for a second.

  ‘Are you sure I’m not disturbing you, Ronnie? I can hear you’ve got someone there with you. New girlfriend?’

  ‘Erm… yeah. Sort of… Look, are you sure everything’s alright?’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Amber replied. Why had he suddenly started to sound more than a touch shifty? Like he had something to hide.

  ‘Okay. Good. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?’

  ‘Yeah. Okay. Goodnight, Ronnie.’

  ‘’Night, kiddo.’

  Amber threw her phone back into her bag and looked out of the taxi window again as it made its way towards Gateshead, and home. Tonight had been a test, that’s how she was going to look at it. A test to see just how strong her love for Ryan really was. Her handsome footballer; the way he smiled, the way he knew just where to touch her to make her scream out loud – the way he could kiss her and make her feel as though she’d never have to worry about anything ever again. She loved him. Yeah, she loved him. Sure, he’d managed to barge his way into her once-well-ordered life with all the subtly of a force 10 hurricane, changing everything around her so fast it was as though her head had been spinning constantly since the day she’d met him. But maybe he was just what she needed. And all she had to do now was be brave enough to see if she was right, to take that leap of faith.

  As the taxi pulled up outside their house she was surprised to see lights on. Okay, it was late but she still hadn’t expected Ryan to be home. Not yet. Maybe his night hadn’t panned out quite the way he’d wanted it to, either.

  ‘Keep the change,’ she smiled at the taxi driver, handing him more money than the requested fare. But that ride home had given her a little more clarity than she’d thought she’d get tonight, so she was grateful for the time it had afforded her to think. Jim Allen wasn’t going to ruin the rest of her life. She wasn’t going to let him, not this time. He’d taken enough years away from her. She’d wasted enough time thinking about him, wanting him, missing him. It was time to try and move on.

  Almost running up the long, block-paved pathway to the front door, she felt a frisson of nervous excitement as she tried to fit the key in the lock with hands that were shaking, only to find that the door was slightly ajar. That nervous excitement was quickly replaced with something verging on edginess as she pushed the door open and walked warily into the hallway. Oh, Jesus, please don’t let it be burglars, she thought, her heart starting to beat hard with a mixture of fear and nausea, which immediately turned to relief when she spotted Ryan’s jacket thrown on the stairs.

  She pushed the door shut behind her and flicked the latch, locking it. He was home. Good. She was glad. After everything that had gone on she just wanted to cuddle up in bed with him and think about nothing but that brand new future that lay ahead.

  Taking her own coat off and throwing it over the banister, she started to make her way upstairs, but within seconds her breath had caught in her throat and her stomach had tightened, bringing with it the return of the nausea and the nerves. Those shoes – two beautiful, glamorous, high-heeled shoes lay discarded on the landing, next to them a short, chiffon dress just covering the shirt Ryan had been wearing when he’d left the house earlier that evening.

  And the giggles. They were coming from their bedroom. Giggles and moans and somebody cheering… What the hell…?

  She stood outside the bedroom she shared with her footballer fiancé and rested her forehead against the door as a sickening realisation swept over her, cancelling out everything she’d ever felt over the past six months – everything. Before she’d even set foot inside the room she felt numb, empty. She felt stupid. But she knew that was nothing compared to what she was going to feel when she finally opened that door…

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  She slammed the door in his face. Childish, maybe, but what else was she supposed to do? He could say sorry until those proverbial cows came home but she’d never forgive him. Not this time.

  She swung round at the sound of a key in the lock and as he tried to push his way in she fought back, desperately trying to stop him from getting inside before she realised just how pathetic this really was. She was starting to sink to his level now.

  ‘Will you just listen to me? Please?’ Ryan pleaded, leaning back against the now-closed front door, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could put up one hell of a fight, that was for sure. She’d almost won, there.

  ‘I really can’t do this, Ryan. Not right now,’ she said, looking right at him, her eyes expressionless, cold. They reminded him of how she’d seemed when he’d first met her just six months ago – that wall had come right back up and it was nobody’s fault but his.

  ‘Amber…’

  ‘I need you to go.’ Her voice was barely a whisper. ‘Because I’m really not in the mood to stand here and listen to any more lies.’

  ‘Amber…’

  He started to walk towards her but she backed away from him, her arms folded against her, keeping that barrier between them. ‘Please, Ryan, just go, will you? It’s over. Us, the engagement, any plans we may have had for a future together, it’s over.’

  ‘Look, I’m not going to stand here and say let me explain, because I can’t. Well, I can, but… it would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?’

  She continued to stare at him, but she said nothing. There was nothing to say. Like she’d said, it was over.

  ‘I just want you to know that I love you, with all of my fucking heart, Amber, I love you, and… and what I did last night, it was – Shit!’ He pushed a hand through his hair and turned away for a second, because her staring at him the way she was doing, it was tearing him apart.

  ‘I trusted you,’ she whispered, quite pleased with herself for keeping the tears at bay, but then, she’d probably cried them all last night, after she’d kicked him out, along with Gary and whoever the two slappers were that had been fucking her fiancé. ‘You make me sick.’

  ‘Shit!’ He really couldn’t see a way out of this. He felt like a cornered rat, banged to rights with nowhere to go but to face the music. The saddest song he was ever likely to hear.

  ‘I knew when I opened that bedroom door that I was going to find you in bed with another woman,’ Amber went on, her fingers gripping the thin material of the t-shirt she was wearing. ‘But I can’t even begin to tell you how I felt when I faced what was really going on in there. Finding you with one woman would have been bad enough, Ryan, but to see what I saw… to see what they were doing to you, what you were doing to them… Have you any idea how that made me feel? Huh? Have you?’

  ‘Baby…’

  He reached out to take her hand but she pulled it away, backing off further, towards the kitchen. ‘You can’t possibly know,’ she whispered, shaking her head. ‘You can’t. I came home, after a night of wondering whether I was doing the right thing in being with you in the first place, but… but I loved you, y’know? I loved you, so of course I knew I was doing the right thing, I mean, we all have those doubts, don’t we? We all go through those topsy-turvy emotions, it’s only natural. What isn’t natural is making love to me, telling me we’re going to start planning our wedding as soon as possible, and then bringing two…’ She stopped talking, turning away from him, pushing a hand through her hair. ‘What isn’t natural is then, just hours later, sleeping with two women, in our bed – our bed, Ryan – while your team-mate films it. Jesus, how sick is that?’

  In the cold light of day, after the effects of too much booze and Christ knows what else had worn off, he couldn’t help but agree with her. It was sick. It was wrong, and once again he’d let his ridiculous need for a life that wasn’t even real take over, and destroy everything.

  ‘I love you, Amber…’

  ‘I don’t care,
’ she said quietly, looking at him once more with eyes that were still trying to show no emotion, and they were just about managing it. ‘I really don’t care anymore, Ryan. I can’t, because every time I do something happens, don’t you see? Every time I become involved…’ She walked away from him, into the kitchen, folding her arms tight against her chest again. ‘But not anymore.’

  ‘Look, I know what you saw was…’

  She swung round, fixing him with a stare that told him in no uncertain terms that she was in no mood to forgive. And she wasn’t. As far as final straws went that one had been the perfect example. She’d already given him far more chances than he’d deserved. ‘I really would like you to leave now, Ryan.’

  He was about to try again, with another round of pointless explaining, but a loud banging on the front door stopped him from getting even one word out.

  ‘What the…?’

  Amber pushed past him as if he wasn’t even there, going straight out into the hall and flinging the door open, not really having any idea what or who she expected to find outside. She was just irritated by the manner in which they’d made their presence known.

  ‘Ronnie…?’

  ‘You’d better let me in,’ he said, an expression on his face that Amber couldn’t really read. ‘The shit is about to hit the fan, big time.’

  ‘Huh? Ronnie? What’s happened?’ She followed him into the kitchen, where Ryan was now leaning back against the centre island, his arms folded. ‘Are you still here?’ she asked, not caring that she probably sounded a touch petulant now. She just wanted him out of her sight.

  Ronnie looked slightly confused for a second, unaware of the goings-on of last night and the sudden shift in Ryan and Amber’s relationship. But the tension in the room was quite obviously palpable. ‘It’s probably best he stays, for a while, anyway,’ Ronnie said, pushing the confusion to the back of his mind, eyeing Ryan suspiciously as he threw a copy of a popular tabloid newspaper onto the counter. ‘He might have some explaining to do.’