Striker (48 page)

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Authors: Michelle Betham

BOOK: Striker
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She put her fingers to his lips, shaking her head. ‘I know you regret it now. I know you do. Or, at least, I hope you do.’

‘I do. I promise you, I do…’

‘Okay. Okay, I believe you.’

‘And when I said I needed you, I meant that, too. I want to kick this shit, Amber. I want to start enjoying my life rather than throwing it down the fucking drain, but I don’t think I can do it on my own.’

‘You don’t have to,’ she said, even though she felt as though she was acting on some kind of auto-pilot, the events of last night still too fresh in her mind for her to push aside easily. ‘I’m going to be here, okay?’

He nodded, taking her hand and holding it tight, so tight she was afraid he might never let it go.
 

She smiled again, reaching up to stroke his cheek with the palm of her hand, kissing him gently, reluctant to pull away. But a sharp rapping on the front door was something neither of them could ignore.

‘Who the hell’s that?’ Amber sighed, pulling her hand free of Ryan’s.

‘Leave it. They’ll go away.’

Another round of rapping made Amber think that was highly unlikely. Whoever it was, they seemed extremely keen to be heard.

‘You stay here. I’ll go see who it is,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long.’

She ran downstairs, flinging open one of the huge black double doors at the front of the house, her heart stopping in her chest as she saw the figure standing on the doorstep.

‘Yeah. I was right. I thought I’d find you here.’

‘Jim…’

He pushed past her, going straight into the kitchen, throwing a copy of a popular national tabloid newspaper down on the counter-top. Amber took one look at it and threw her head back, sighing.

‘I can only assume, because of the fact you ran out of my house last night without one word of explanation, and the fact you’re here, in his house, that you knew about this? Am I right? Was that call last night to do with this freaking idiot?’

Amber nodded, her stomach flipping in a wholly unpleasant way now. ‘He needed me, Jim.’

‘Jesus Christ… He doesn’t need
you
, Amber. What he needs is pulling into fucking line. He needs to quit this crap and concentrate on his fucking career.’

‘I think he’s aware of that now, Jim.’

‘Is he? Is he really? You think so, do you?’ Amber watched as Jim pushed a hand through his hair, pacing the dark-wood floor. ‘He’s got to get his act together, Amber. And fast.’ He leaned back against the counter-top, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘Is he awake?’

Amber nodded. She was finding it really hard to look at Jim, knowing what she might have to tell him.

‘I’ll have a word with him then we’ll get out of here. You’ve done your bit. The rest is up to him.’

‘Jim…’

He turned to look at her, his expression questioning.

‘I… I can’t leave him.’

Jim said nothing for a second. ‘Can’t, or won’t?’

She looked out of the French windows again, the dark December sky matching her mood. ‘Both,’ she whispered.

Jim leaned back again, pushing a hand through his grey-flecked hair. ‘You’re going back to him?’

‘I have to, Jim.’

‘No, Amber. You don’t.’ He looked her up and down, taking in the denim shorts and the Red Star strip she was wearing. ‘Did you fuck him?’

Amber folded her arms, looking down at the floor. ‘He wasn’t in any fit state for anything other than sleep,’ she lied, looking up at him. ‘So I’m not even going to answer that.’

His eyes locked onto hers. ‘I don’t believe this. We… we were about to start a life together, Amber, and, what? This jackass gets wasted and suddenly you’re right back by his side? Why? Huh? You wanna tell me why?’

‘It’s not that simple, Jim…’

‘Isn’t it? What? Can’t he throw up without you there beside him? Does he need you to hold his hand every step of the fucking way?’

‘Yes. I do.’

They both looked over to where Ryan was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his battered jeans.

‘I need her to hold my hand. I need her, full stop.’

Jim just glared at him, but Ryan stood his ground.

‘What I did last night, it was stupid. But it’s nothing footballers of my ilk haven’t done before. Getting drunk, making prats of ourselves, it’s what we do, isn’t it?’

‘I’d prefer it if you didn’t do it while you’re a player at
my
club,’ Jim said slowly, still staring at Ryan. ‘I’ve got better things to do than deal with silly little boys who play games.’

Amber looked at Ryan, begging him not to tell Jim everything. He didn’t need to know, nobody did. Nobody needed to know how low Ryan had got last night, how close he’d come to doing something really stupid. And the last thing Jim needed to know about was the drugs. Ryan wasn’t an addict by any stretch of the imagination, but occasional recreational use was enough to see his career ended in an instant.

Ryan gave her a small smile, and a slight nod, which Amber took as a sign that he knew what he was doing. But she still felt sick. Still felt as though this could still all come crashing down around them at any second and she really didn’t know what she would do if it did.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ryan said, looking directly at Jim. ‘No, I mean it. I’m really sorry, boss.’

‘Sorry for being an idiot last night? Or sorry for involving Amber in your stupid games?’

Ryan’s eyes never left Jim’s as he spoke. ‘Both.’

Jim turned away, laughing a loud and cynical laugh. ‘Jesus. This is fucking crazy!’ He turned back to face Ryan again. ‘I should have your name ready to go on that fucking list when the transfer window opens up in January. I should make sure you leave here, get as far away from her as possible…’

‘Jim…’ Amber began.

He looked at her. A look which only served to make Amber feel more guilt, a guilt that hit her like some out-of-control speeding truck, so hard was the force of its impact.

‘But
I
don’t play games,’ Jim said, his voice steady. Calm. He looked at Ryan. ‘You get that fucking head of yours together, son, and get your ass down to that training ground, now…’

‘Jim, please. He’s in no state…’

Jim threw Amber a look that, this time, only served to make the guilt hit harder.
 
‘I’ve got journalists – national
and
local – outside Tynebridge
and
the training ground, all of them wanting to know why
he
was in the state he was in last night, and right now the press office are trying to fire-fight, trying to explain that he’s nothing but another overpaid idiot who thinks this world owes him a fucking living.’ He looked at Ryan. ‘So, you get over to that training ground and you let our own doctors check you over. Who knows what shit you threw down your neck…’ He looked at Amber again, ‘… and up your fucking nose. Don’t hide shit like this from me again, Amber.’

‘Hey, quit taking this out on
her
…’ Ryan began, but Jim stopped him, throwing him a look that told him to keep quiet. There was only one person calling the shots in that room, and both Amber and Ryan knew it was neither of them.

‘I’d rather we dealt with this at club level,’ Jim said, his voice still steady, but obviously taking no crap. ‘While we still can. I’ll expect you there within the hour, Ryan. You can resume training with the rest of the squad next week.’

‘Next week?’ Ryan asked, frowning slightly.

‘Oh, you can forget this weekend’s match, Fisher. You can put that right out of your mind. I’m fining you for behaviour that could bring Red Star into disrepute and you’re banned from this weekend’s game. You don’t even make the bench, kiddo. It might give you time to think about what you’ve done.’ He looked at Amber, and she felt her stomach turn over so many times she felt physically sick. ‘What you’ve
both
done. I’ll see myself out.’

Amber closed her eyes as she leaned back against the counter, pushing both hands through her dishevelled, dark red hair, sighing heavily.

‘It’s gonna be alright, babe,’ Ryan said, walking over to her, gently pushing the hair from her eyes.

She looked up at him. ‘Is it? Pissing
him
off wasn’t the wisest of things to do, was it? And I think we’ve
both
managed that.’

‘He’ll get over it,’ Ryan leaned back against the counter beside her.

‘Is that right? How do you work that out, then?’

He slipped his hand into hers, squeezing it tight, smiling slightly. ‘Jim Allen is the ultimate professional, Amber. You know that better than anyone. And he’s had to deal with bigger shit than this in his time as a manager.’

‘What? One of his players sleeping with his ex-girlfriend?’

‘You know what I mean.’

Amber looked down at their joined hands. ‘What a mess,’ she sighed.

Ryan moved so he was standing in front of her, his hands on her hips, pulling her loosely against him. ‘If you really want to go to him…’

‘Jesus, Ryan, I don’t want to go to him, okay?’ Didn’t she?

‘Well, you did before…’

‘Things are different now.’

‘What? Now that I’ve told you I’m weak and can’t quite manage to dig myself out of the shit I’ve buried myself in unless I’ve got you to help me?’

‘Do you know what? If you’re going to start playing the big kid again I’m out of here.’

‘No, Amber, hang on,’ Ryan said, pulling her back into his arms before she could walk away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit… last night freaked me out, okay? I can’t remember all that much about it, but I remember what I almost did, and that freaks me out. Big time.’

‘That’s understandable,’ she whispered, resting her hands on his tattooed forearms, playing with the numerous leather bands he had tied around his wrists. ‘But I really need you to grow up and start making this work, Ryan. Before it’s too late.’

He smiled, a smile which sent her head spinning, despite the tiredness she still felt. ‘You want me to grow up, huh? Was I not grown-up enough for you last night?’

She couldn’t help smiling back, despite the guilt and the confusion and the pain she was feeling. For so many different reasons. ‘You remember
that
,
then?’

‘How can I forget how good you feel?’ he whispered, his mouth so close to hers now, his breath warm on her face. ‘How soft and wet and beautiful…’

‘Ryan…’ she groaned, but before she could stop him his mouth had covered hers in another kiss that she knew was only going to lead to one inevitable destination. So all she could do was close her eyes, kick back and enjoy the ride.

Chapter Twenty

 

 

Amber sat at her desk, not sure whether she was glad to be back at work or not. It felt strange, after having spent so much time away from News North East, to be back in the thick of it, all eyes in the Sports Desk now on the January transfer window as a month of players moving backwards and forwards, joining new clubs or returning to their old ones, began. Usually Amber loved this time of year, but Christmas hadn’t exactly been the kind of one she’d wanted. Ryan’s time at Red Star wasn’t an easy one right now. His relationship with Jim Allen was, understandably, strained, although nobody else knew about the Red Star manager’s relationship with Amber, so only Ryan could really understand the dynamics that were now taking place. Jim hadn’t resorted to any kind of underhand or unprofessional tactics to get back at Ryan, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping a very close eye on him.

Ryan had also been away a lot over the Christmas week. Red Star’s Boxing Day match had been a home game but Jim had still kept to the usual routine of holing the squad up in a hotel the night before the match so, come Christmas Day afternoon, Ryan had left Amber alone to join his team-mates. And as for New Year, the club’s New Year’s Day fixture had been away in the
North West
so Amber had spent New Year’s Eve with her dad – a quiet time, and one she’d used to reflect on just what the future might hold for her and Ryan. Because she’d missed him more than she’d cared to admit when he’d been away. At a time when she’d needed to be with him he hadn’t been there as much as she’d wanted him to be, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. She couldn’t be with him twenty-four-hours a day, even if sometimes she wanted to be.

‘Good to have you back,’ Kevin smiled, perching himself in his usual position on the edge of Amber’s desk.

Amber looked at him. ‘It’s good to
be
back. I think.’

‘Got used to the time off, did you? Although, you didn’t exactly take it easy, did you? Like I instructed you to.’

Amber sat back in her chair, crossing her legs. ‘Things have been a bit – complicated, yeah. But I think we’re getting everything back on an even keel.’ She wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

‘An even keel, huh?’ Kevin repeated, arching a questioning eyebrow. ‘So, you and the Red Star wonder boy… things settling down again now, are they?’

‘If you mean, has he gone on any more benders, no. If he isn’t with the squad then he’s with me. We’re fine. So, yeah. Things are settling down, thanks.’

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