Big Win (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 2)

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Big Win (Brit Boys Sports Romance Book 2) Page 16

by J. H. Croix


  Sure, I hit Joe. Hell, I’d do it again if he got anywhere near Harper. It didn’t change history though, nor did it amount to anything remotely close to what he’d done to her. But, I kept my cool. I called on years of discipline and kept my expression blank. Brian finally looked away from me and back to Zoe.

  “I’ll need to talk with Mr. Schmidt, but I’m inclined to think he’ll accept this,” Brian said before looking back to me. “If he does, you can count yourself lucky here. The charge for assault could easily hold up in court.”

  Before I had a chance to reply, Zoe spoke. “I wouldn’t be so confident, Brian. Mr. Schmidt is not a sympathetic figure as I’m sure you’re aware. Before we agree to anything, I’d also like to discuss my concerns about Mr. Schmidt showing up outside my client’s apartment and approaching Ms. Jacobs on the street. It appears he was trying to provoke her and perhaps my client, neither of which is acceptable.”

  Brian’s eyes gave nothing away, but lines of tension bracketed his mouth. “Your concerns are noted. I realize this might be difficult for you to believe, but it’s possible Mr. Schmidt happened to be there by chance. He does live in the area.”

  Zoe’s expression stayed calm, but I sensed the steel underneath. “If it happens again, I’ll bring it up with the judge.”

  Brian didn’t reply and merely nodded. A few minutes later, I’d followed Zoe out to a waiting room. She was sitting beside me, quietly checking emails on her phone while I wondered when the hell we could leave, when someone said her name. Zoe glanced up and actually smiled. I almost chuckled aloud because I realized Ethan would love to see her smile. Her usually tense face softened, and her gaze, always serious when I’d seen her, brightened. “Hey Becca! How’s it going?”

  I followed her eyes to a woman approaching from the hallway. She was tall with glossy dark hair pulled back in a bun and bright blue eyes. Another beautiful woman who elicited absolutely nothing from me. Harper had ruined other women me, and I needed to face it.

  The woman stopped in front of us. “Hey Zoe. I’d ask what brings you here, but Brian mentioned he was reviewing a proposed plea on that case. It’s a damn good thing Mr. Schmidt wasn’t assigned to me because I wouldn’t have even wanted to give the jerk the time of day,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Zoe laughed softly and rolled her eyes. “Exactly why you didn’t get his case. Becca, this is Alex Gordon.” She caught my eyes and gestured between us. “Alex, this is Becca McNamara. She’s another prosecutor here. She mostly handles domestic violence and sexual assault cases.”

  I started to stand, but Becca shook her head. “Goodness, no need to stand. Nice to meet you. I’ll have to tell my husband we met. He’s a fan,” she said with a grin.

  I inclined my head with a nod. “Nice to meet you as well. Send your husband my best.”

  Becca glanced back at Zoe. “So what’s the status?”

  Zoe shrugged. “Brian doesn’t like my offer, but I’m guessing he’ll talk Mr. Schmidt into it. Good ol’ Schmidt showed up outside Alex’s apartment and approached Ms. Jacobs. Doesn’t look too sympathetic for a jury if we went to trial.”

  Becaa shook her head. “Definitely not. You know, I wish I’d been the prosecutor for Schmidt’s old case. I was here then, but it went to someone else. I didn’t think they should’ve offered a plea deal, but they did.” She looked to me. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but what the hell? Don’t blame you.”

  Zoe let out a laugh and glanced to me. “See, told you people would think you were the hero.”

  I decided staying quiet was my best choice, so I simply nodded. Becca and Zoe moved onto another topic and a few minutes later Becca hurried away to take a call. Brian called Zoe back in a few minutes later, leaving me to wait. Fine with me. I just wanted this mess resolved.

  Not much later, Zoe came striding back into the waiting room, stopping in front of me. “Looks like we have a deal. There’ll be an administrative hearing later this week. You’ll need to be available, and if you have to skip practice to be there, you’d better be there. If the judge approves, you’ll plead to a lesser charge and agree to community service. Assuming you keep your nose clean for a full year after that, the charges will be removed from your record.” She paused and narrowed her eyes. “Even if plenty of people understand why you’re pissed at Mr. Schmidt, turn around and walk the other way if you ever see him. According to your Coach, you have the slowest fuse on his entire team. Love apparently makes you crazy, so don’t be stupid again. Now come on, let’s go,” she said, turning and walking quickly out of the building as I followed.

  After Zoe drove away, I stood on the sidewalk watching the cars roll by. I wanted to go see Harper, but I was holding back. She’d spent another night with me after our run-in with Joe. We were now halfway through the next week, and I’d only seen her when we went running in the mornings. I was coming to recognize that I’d better keep a grip on my sanity when it came to her. While I might have known what I wanted, it was becoming clear she wasn’t on the same page yet. As long as we were skin to skin, the unspoken feelings and doubts crowding the space between us fell away. When we fell asleep together, I never wanted morning to come because I was starting to see the pattern. With the light of day, Harper kept herself back. Those old invisible walls I used to sense weren’t reinforced the way they’d once been, but they were there. She hid behind them. Brutal understanding helped me recognize why they were there, but it didn’t change what I wanted and knew we could have. If only she’d let me in for more than temporary passes.

  I gave a mental shake, stuffed my hands in my pockets and started walking home. The sky was overcast, but it wasn’t raining. Suited my mood to a tee. As I walked, the wheels in my mind spun over whether I should take a step back, or push a little harder with Harper.

  Chapter Twenty

  Harper

  My office phone rang and I hit the speaker button. “Yes?”

  “Harper, it’s Brad Williams from the Seattle Observer. How are you?”

  I’d been in the middle of entering updates on a few patients in our electronic records system. With my brain in a different gear entirely, it took me a minute to absorb what Brad said. As soon as I did, I stopped typing and spun to face the phone, anxiety knotting in my chest. Brad had been nothing but respectful in his article about Joe’s new charges. He’d adhered to our agreement that I be allowed to review everything before it was published. While I didn’t like any of this and would rather erase the entire history of it, part of me was relieved to have it rehashed in the press. Back when it happened, I was too wrecked to pay much attention other than the fact I wanted it over—the trial and anything that reminded me of what happened. Brad’s article not only touched on Alex’s charges, but he reviewed some stats on just how thoroughly Joe had skated by when it came to my case. It was validating to see the truth of it in black and white with nothing but numbers to tell the story.

  Yet, I had no idea why Brad was calling me again. The fact he was made me nervous. Because I didn’t think he was calling just to say hi.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi Brad. I’m okay. You?”

  “Can’t complain. Listen, I’m calling to follow up on the plea deal agreed upon at Mr. Gordon’s hearing yesterday. I have a few questions. Do you mind?”

  My stomach churned. I’d been avoiding asking Alex about this very issue. Truth was, I was kinda sorta maybe avoiding Alex in general. Oh, I saw him every day when we went running, but I had handy excuses for why I was in a rush afterwards. None of them were lies, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t put off. I just, hell, I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was hurt Alex hadn’t told me about his hearing yesterday. The moment I reconsidered that, I snapped back at myself. It’s not like you’re giving him many chances to talk.

  Dammit.

  “Harper?”

  Oh right. Brad was actually waiting for me to respond to his question. “Um, sure.”

  “Good. Just like before, anything I publish w
ill go to you for review first. At the court hearing yesterday, it was on record that Mr. Schmidt approached you outside of Mr. Gordon’s apartment. Were you relieved to hear the judge warned Mr. Schmidt against doing so again?”

  My breath hitched and a sense of relief washed over me. Quick on the heels of that was more confusion and hurt that Alex hadn’t said a word to me about any of this. I forced myself to stay focused on the question. “Obviously. I’m sure Mr. Schmidt claims it was incidental, but he didn’t have to try to speak to me.”

  Questions were crowding my mind. I wanted to ask Brad so many, but I didn’t dare for fear of looking foolish. The hearing had just happened yesterday, but I’d seen Alex this morning… And you didn’t give him a minute to talk. I cringed inside.

  “How do you feel about the plea deal? Mr. Gordon agreed to lesser charges of disorderly conduct. If he completes his community service and stays out of trouble for one year, he will have no record.”

  “Um, well, if I’m honest, I didn’t think he should’ve been charged, but I do understand why he was. All things considered, the plea deal was fair.” I practically had to bite my tongue because I had so many questions, all of them relating to how Alex had responded to any of this.

  Brad asked me a few more questions. I didn’t know what to think of the fact that he planned to include my response in his story. I supposed I should’ve known I couldn’t get involved with an internationally recognized soccer star and not blip on the radar when he hauled off and punched the guy who raped me. Even then, it was still weird. Brad hung up after assuring me he’d send over a draft later this afternoon.

  I should’ve turned my attention back to work, but I couldn’t. It was bothering me that Alex hadn’t filled me in on any of this. Bothering me a lot. Even though part of me knew I’d been keeping my distance, another part of me was an angry kind of hurt. Before I thought about it, I picked up my phone and called him.

  He answered on the second ring. “Alex here.”

  His tone was so perfunctory, either he didn’t know it was me, or he didn’t care. I was spinning inside. I’d been riding a roller coaster of emotions for too many weeks now. Between the rush of being with Alex, the internal earthquake of encountering Joe, and trying to make sense of how I felt, well, I wasn’t my usual self.

  I didn’t know who my usual self was anymore though. There was me before I got raped and me after. The me after had carefully put myself back together, so carefully, I’d lost touch with who I’d been before. Life was a path of growth and change, which never ended. Yet, when you’re forced by brutal circumstances to make changes, you lose sight of what came about and why. In the end, it didn’t really matter. I was who I was, whether it was usual or not, I didn’t know.

  At the moment, I felt as if I was dizzy from spinning in a circle and had suddenly spun loose. Disoriented, I lashed out. “How come you didn’t tell me about the plea deal?”

  I could hear noise in the background through Alex’s phone. Flicking my eyes to the clock on my computer, I dimly registered that he was probably at the stadium since they had a game tonight.

  “Harper?” he asked. “Hang on, let me get…”

  “I just want to know how come you didn’t tell me about the plea deal,” I said sharply. From the distant reaches of my mind, I heard a voice telling me to ease up, but I didn’t listen. I was angry and out of sorts and feeling like the one man I’d allowed myself to trust couldn’t be bothered to let me know what was going on.

  The noise in the background faded. “Harper, listen. We haven’t really had a chance to talk…” Alex started to say.

  “I see you every morning!” I exclaimed, cutting him off.

  “Bloody hell, Harper. You don’t even give us a chance to talk,” Alex countered. His tone was calm, but I could feel his frustration through the phone.

  All of it only amped me up more. “Well, maybe you should try harder.”

  My voice sounded churlish even to my ears, but I was like a boulder rolling down a hill at this point, bouncing into whatever was in front of me.

  Alex was quiet for a few beats, and I could hear his breathing. “Harper, I don’t know what’s up here.” He sighed. “Look, could I stop by tonight after our game? I have to…”

  “No, no. Forget it. If you wanted to tell me, you would have. I have to go.”

  I tapped to end the call and tossed my phone on my desk where it slid off the other side onto the floor. I promptly burst into tears.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex

  We had a game that night. It was pure luck I didn’t hand our team a loss. After the opposing team made one goal, Coach called me over.

  “You with us tonight?” he asked, his perceptive gaze scanning my face.

  “Absolutely.”

  He arched a brow. I gave myself a shake. Without a word, he communicated what I knew to be true. My mind was only half here. My heart was tugging it elsewhere. I wanted to see Harper. Now. Yet, I was also a little pissed with her. She’d put up her damn walls and then expected me to magically know when it was okay to try to push past them. Fuck it. Not a damn thing I could do right now unless I wanted to let my team down and leave. I didn’t think that was the best choice given that I didn’t even know how or when it was best to try to talk to Harper. I’d solve absolutely nothing by letting my frustrations overtake my focus. So, I looked back at Coach and nodded. “Right. I’ll do better.”

  He clapped me on my shoulder and sent me back out. For entirely different reasons, I did what I used to do years back when I was a lad and escaped into football to forget about my father and the cloud of anger he left hovering over all of us when he was home. I sharpened my focus and everything else fell away.

  I stood under the steaming shower after the game, relieved we’d pulled out a win. Liam worked his magic and made the plays happen. The final score had been 3 – 1. I dried off and changed. Closing my locker, I turned to find Ethan lounging on the bench across from me. I tended to stay later than the rest of the guys. I loved the stadium when it was quiet and preferred to leave once the commotion was over.

  Ethan was usually long gone, but there he sat, his golden hair damp from his shower and his green gaze assessing me. “Good game.” He paused meaningfully. “After you got your head out of your arse,” he said with a wink. He immediately sobered. “You okay?”

  I stepped over the bench running in front of the lockers and sat down facing Ethan. I eyed him for a beat and shrugged. “Aye. Why?”

  Ethan leaned his elbows on his knees. “Because I know you, and you look bloody miserable.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. I figured Ethan might give me some clarity on the mess I’d made with Harper. He might like to play it casual with women, but he had four sisters and was tight with all of them. I had two, but we’d had such a tense childhood under my father’s roof, we’d only started to get close in the last few years. I quickly summarized my call with Harper earlier. It had been brief, but she’d hung up on me and hadn’t answered when I tried to call back.

  Ethan listened quietly, nodding along the way. “Ah, so you were in a right good mood for the game, eh?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  He eyed me thoughtfully. “How come you didn’t tell her about it anyway? I mean, bloody hell, the whole reason you ended up in that bind was because of her.”

  “Huh? She didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Ethan arched a brow. “You don’t say? So you’d have hauled off and punched the guy if you weren’t half in love with her? Wait, don’t even answer. If it weren’t for you knowing Harper and what happened, he’d have just been some guy. That’s it.”

  I straightened and rolled my head from side to side, trying to ease the tension bundled in my neck. “Okay, fair enough.”

  Ethan circled his hand. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “How come you didn’t tell her?”

  I glanced to the floor and back up, feeling frustrate
d with myself for backing into a corner of my own making. “I’m not much of a talker,” I finally said.

  Liam rounded the corner of the locker row, catching my comment. “You don’t say?” he asked with a sly grin as he slid onto the bench beside Ethan. “What’s up anyway? You were off tonight.”

  Ethan glanced sideways at him. “Lady troubles.”

  I bit back a sigh and rolled my eyes. Before I had a chance to answer Liam, his gaze flicked from Ethan to me and he continued, “Ah. Well, it’s about damn time something rattled you.”

  I glared at him. “And why’s that?”

  He sobered. “Just messing. I mean, it’s true you’re like a rock, while the rest of us have our ups and downs. Hell, you saw me skid sideways and play like rubbish for a bit after my mum died. No judgment here. Is it Harper? Don’t know what you could be worrying about. Olivia thinks she’s in looove with you,” he said, dragging the word love out only the way Liam could.

  Ethan looked at me and flashed a quick smile. “I was about to say she wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t care. Take it from my sisters, women don’t like it when you don’t keep them informed.”

  Liam nodded sagely and looked between us. “He’s right. You not being much of a talker won’t help you with Harper. What did you not bother telling her?”

 

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