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Authors: Michelle Betham

Striker (25 page)

BOOK: Striker
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He grinned, kissing her quickly. ‘So, you’ll wait up for me, yeah?’

She folded her arms, nodding as she watched his expression change, his eyes lighting up. Did he really have any idea how dejected she felt right now?

‘I’ll see you later, then.’ He smiled as he started walking backwards away from her. ‘You’re a star, Amber.’

‘You’re a mug, more like.’

Amber swung round to see Jim standing beside her, his suit jacket off and his shirtsleeves rolled up. She said nothing. She had nothing left
to
say.

‘You really think he wants to be with you, huh? When he can’t even be bothered to spend a few hours with you? He’d rather go out with the lads and drink himself into oblivion than be with you. What does that tell you, Amber?’

She looked at him, feeling nothing, just a numbness she couldn’t shake. ‘You know nothing, Jim. Okay? So just keep out of it.’

He gave a small laugh, a cynical laugh, before looking down at the ground. ‘He’ll hurt you.’ His eyes met hers again, his face serious. ‘That’s what his type do.’

Amber stared back at him. ‘Well, you’d know all about that, Jim. Wouldn’t you?’

Chapter Eleven

 

 

‘What do you want, Max?’ Ryan asked, leaning against the doorpost, sleepily wiping his eyes.

‘You not going to invite me in?’

‘I’ve just got out of bed. Do you know what frigging time it is?’

‘Best to catch you early, Ryan. Before you slip under the radar again.’

‘What the hell’s
that
that supposed to mean?’ Ryan really didn’t need this. He’d already had his sleep interrupted once this morning by Amber getting up at the crack of dawn, and now Max had woken him a second time. He didn’t even think it was eight 0’clock yet, and considering that he didn’t have to be at the training ground until ten, Ryan was pissed off that he’d been forced out of bed.

‘It means you’ve been avoiding my calls, Ryan.’ Max pushed past him into the house. ‘Is Amber in?’

‘No. She’s at work,’ Ryan sighed, closing the front door, realising he had no choice but to wake up now. Max obviously wasn’t going to go away.

‘Good. Because I need to talk to you.’

Ryan followed Max into the kitchen, turning the thermostat up as he passed. The North East winter had kicked in big time now and Ryan was freezing.

‘Talk to me about what?’ Ryan asked, getting two mugs out of the cupboard.

‘You’ve been out and about a lot lately, haven’t you?’

Ryan turned round and leaned back against the counter, folding his arms, fixing his agent with a confused look. ‘Huh?’

‘New clubs, bars down the Quayside… the casino. The Goldman Hotel.’

Ryan threw his head back and sighed.

‘You’d better not be falling back into old habits, Ryan,’ Max said, walking over to the French Windows at the back of the kitchen that looked out over an impressive walled garden.

‘Who are you? My fucking father?’

‘No, but I bet he’s just as worried about you as I am.’

‘Have you spoken to him…?’

‘No, of course I haven’t. But I’m sure he’s concerned, Ryan. As am I.’

‘So I’ve been out a few times with the rest of the lads,’ Ryan said, pouring boiling water into the mugs. ‘What do you want me to do? Live like a frigging monk?’

‘Don’t be childish, Ryan.’

He looked at his agent. ‘Trust me, okay? I’m not going back there, I promise.’

Max just continued to look at him, his hands in his pockets, an eyebrow arched in surprise. ‘You need to keep your head down, Ryan. You need to behave yourself and stop thinking that you can still do whatever you want.’

‘What you gonna do, Max? Keep me under fucking house arrest? What the hell
is
all this?’

‘You can’t afford a repeat performance, Ryan. You got a second chance without anyone actually realising that you’d almost blown the first one. You may not be so lucky again. Picking up the pieces a second time might not be so easy.’

‘Jesus Christ…’

‘You need to curb the fucking playboy image, okay?’ Max said, walking back towards the huge island in the centre of the room. ‘You’ve got a great girl in Amber, so why not try settling down for a change? Because I don’t want to hear about you hanging around bars and clubs every chance you get, you got that? And I especially don’t want to hear about you frequenting the casino, okay? That’s a habit you really cannot afford to go back to. Do you want to start a whole new nightmare, huh? Is that what you want?’

‘Of course not,’ Ryan sighed, suddenly feeling like a five-year-old who’d been told off for forgetting his homework.

‘Then listen to what I’m telling you. We can do this, okay? Without you losing everything. But you need to be sensible. Right, I’m out of here. I’ve got a meeting with a player from Wearside Spartans in an hour and I need to make a few phone calls first.’

‘You not stopping for coffee?’ Ryan asked, probably a touch more sarcastically than he’d meant it to come out, but he was pissed off. Big time. Max was treating him like some wayward teenager, who the hell did he think he was?

‘No, Ryan,’ Max replied, looking him up and down – this cocky kid with the big attitude. Something which had got him into trouble in the past, and could quite easily do so again. ‘Remember what I said. Keep your head down and your nose clean and we can do this. I’ll see myself out… Oh, and one more thing, Ryan – learn from your mistakes, okay? Don’t repeat them.’

Ryan sighed heavily, throwing his head back and staring at the white ceiling. He needed
that
shit first thing in the morning, didn’t he?

He took a long sip of hot coffee and reached over for his phone, scrolling down his speed-dial list until he found the numbers he was looking for, pressing the one at the top of the list first. He knew what he
really
needed. And in just a few minutes time he’d have it.

 

*

 

‘You’re looking very chipper this morning,’ Kevin said, perching himself down on the edge of Amber’s desk.

‘If by that you mean I seem quite cheerful then yes, you’d be right.’

‘Good, because you’re out on the road today.’

Amber shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Where am I going?’

‘I want you to get yourself down to Wearside Spartans ground. We’ve set up an interview with their manager and a few of their summer signings to talk about the fact they’re doing really well this season. Ask them what they think of their chances in the forthcoming derby match against Red Star; are they going all-out for that league title, how are the new signings settling in, you know the kind of thing. It’ll make a nice piece for the sports bulletin this evening. Alec’s packing the van so just grab your stuff and join him when you’re sorted. Okay?’

Amber nodded and smiled at Kevin. ‘Okay.’ Yeah, she really was in a good mood today, despite the fact Ryan hadn’t made things easy for her lately. He was spending more time out with his team mates than he was at home with her, and although she kept telling herself that she’d known full well what she was getting into when she moved in with him, that excuse was in danger of wearing thin now. But when he
was
at home, that’s when Amber knew she’d done the right thing moving in with him. When he wanted to be he could be the most attentive, the most caring man she’d ever been with. He was smart and funny and handsome – Jesus, he was handsome! There were times when she couldn’t keep her hands off him, and those were the times she relished. The times when she felt the happiest she’d felt in a long time. She had this amazing man in her life, and she should be grateful for that. She was having fun, but there were times – those times when Ryan was out and she was home alone – when she wondered whether, at her age, she should be looking for more. She wondered whether her feelings for Ryan were changing, and that scared her, because she’d almost promised herself that wouldn’t happen, and if it did then she’d run. She’d get out of there. She couldn’t afford to fall into another one-sided relationship with a footballer. She didn’t think she could put herself through it. But, right now, she was staying put. Her time with Ryan wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot. The times when she enjoyed herself far outweighed the times when she second-guessed the relationship, and that’s all Amber needed for her to be sure she was doing the right thing. For now, at least.

Gathering her things together she pushed her chair back and slung her bag up onto her shoulder, smiling to herself. Yeah. Things were going okay. It was a whole new adventure for both of them – living together, being together. Being a couple. It was just a whole new adventure, that was all.

 

*

 

Ryan couldn’t shake the guilt, and guilt wasn’t something he felt all that often. When people described him as selfish they weren’t all that far from the truth, and as far as what he was doing to Amber right now was concerned, he was being incredibly selfish. But she’d never understand. She’d never understand that everything he did he was doing purely because it helped him to forget, and he needed to do that. He needed to forget. She wasn’t with him all the time, and he hated sitting around with all those dead hours stretching out in front of him. All that did was make him over-think things. People assumed that being a footballer was all glamour and fun but there were times when it could be extremely depressing. When training finished – usually around lunchtime – all that lay ahead was a whole afternoon of nothing to do, and that could be soul-destroying at times. So Ryan needed an escape, something to take his mind off it all. Something to make him forget that his life wasn’t perfect, no matter how much he tried to pretend it was.

Throwing himself down into a chair by the living room window he watched as the figure retreating down the drive pulled her coat tighter around her, the cold north-easterly wind blowing her hair over her face. He watched as she opened the door of the cab that had just pulled up, sliding inside. He watched as she pulled the door shut, watched as the cab sped off into the distance, and all the time Ryan knew he was playing a dangerous game. What if that cab driver knew he lived here? All it would take would be for him to mention this afternoon’s pick-up and word could spread like wild-fire about just what Ryan liked to do on those afternoons when football wasn’t there to distract him. But something else was.
 

He threw his head back and closed his eyes, breathing in deep. He felt anything but calm. Despite what had just happened it hadn’t settled him or made him feel any better about anything. Today it just hadn’t had the desired effect. He needed something else, some other kind of rush to give him that shot of excitement he craved. Amber was doing the teatime sports bulletin on News North East so she wasn’t going to be home until at least seven-thirty, which meant he still had a good few hours left to kill. And he knew just how he wanted to kill them.

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…

BOOK: Striker
9.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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