The Beautiful Game (Man of the Match Book 1)

by A. Meredith Walters

Morgan pinched my side, “Go. Now. Don’t make me get shirty with you.”

  “Shirty?”

  She flipped her hair out of her face. “Yes shirty. I figured if I’m living in England, I might as well adopt some of the vernacular.”

  “Well I don’t want you getting shirty.” I felt light. Happy. It was the most incredible feeling.

  “Don’t forget Mum will be there today. I got you tickets in the box beside each other,” I called out from the bathroom.

  I could hear her phone ringing. “Good. I’ll have an ally against Marla and her minions,” Morgan shouted from the other side of the door.

  I heard her answering her phone so I turned the shower on and quickly got washed. Alan hadn’t been lying when he said Millwood would show up here himself and drag me to the match. As much as I wanted to stay, I needed to get going.

  I had asked Mum about the money she had supposedly sent to dad. She denied, it just as I figured. Morgan had been right, I should never have doubted her.

  After I was dried off and dressed I walked into Morgan’s bedroom to find her sitting on her bed, her face in her hands.

  “What happened? What’s wrong?” I demanded, going immediately to her side.

  She lifted her tearstained face and my stomach dropped. “It’s my mother.” Her lips were trembling. I smoothed her hair back from her face.

  “Is she all right?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No. She’s not. That was Mom’s cousin. My mother had a heart attack. She’s in the hospital.” She started sobbing and all I could do was pull her into my arms and comfort her as best I could.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry,” I crooned in her ear.

  “I have to get to her. She’s all alone.” Morgan pulled away and got to her feet. She looked totally overwhelmed.

  “I thought you said her cousin called. So someone’s with her right?”

  “Lisa doesn’t live near Mom. She can’t stay with her. My mom doesn’t have anyone nearby. There was only me, but now I’m here. God, I knew something like this would happen. I have to get back to Virginia. I have to get a plane ticket. I need to pack.” She went to her closet and pulled a bag from the shelf, sending a pile of clothes careening to the floor.

  I got up and took the bag from her shaking hands. “Take a breath, Morgan. One step at a time.” I rubbed her back. “Let me call Mo, he can get you a plane ticket.”

  “I can get my own ticket,” she protested.

  “I know you can, but I want to do this for you. Let me.”

  She nodded, obviously in shock; otherwise she’d put up more of a fight. “First thing you do is call the hospital and get an update on your mother.”

  “Right. I should do that now.” She clutched her phone in her hand, her knuckles white. “Wait. Your game!” Her eyes were wide and frantic.

  I kissed her softly. “Don’t worry about the match. You stay here, pack a bag. Mo will call you once your plane is booked.”

  “Are you sure? Your mom will be there—”

  “She’ll understand,” I cut in.

  “Okay, I need to call the hospital.” I could tell she was in a daze. I left her to make the call and I quickly contacted Mo.

  “Pay for it out of my account,” I told him.

  I could hear Mo typing in the background. “I can get her on an eight o’clock flight from Heathrow. If she takes the train in an hour she can be there in plenty of time.”

  “Book it. Get her a train ticket and get yourself one too.”

  “Get one for me?” Mo asked, sounding confused.

  “Morgan’s a nervous traveler. She’ll be worse with this going on. I need you to get her to Heathrow. Make sure this is as stress free as possible. Can you do this for me? She’s important to me, Mo.”

  “Of course, Lucas. Tell her I’ll be by to get her in a half an hour.”

  “Thanks, Mo. I really appreciate it.”

  “If she’s important to you, she’s important to me,” Mo said.

  “Thanks, mate.”

  “Before you go, I wanted to let you know that I had your solicitor contact your fath—Mr. Parks. He’s shopping around a tell all about your childhood. We’ve sent a cease and desist notice.”

  The last thing I wanted to think about right now was my sperm donor.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I replied shortly.

  “Okay, good luck today, Lucas.”

  I hung up and found Morgan just getting off the phone.

  “She’s stable but still critical,” she said with some relief.

  I gathered her in my arms, needing to hold her. “I’m so glad.” I pulled back so I could look at her. “My agent, Mo will be here in a half an hour to take you to the train. He’s going to travel with you to Heathrow where he’s booked you a direct flight to Virginia for eight o’clock this evening.”

  “Mo’s coming with me? Why?” Morgan asked.

  “Because I know how stressful traveling is for you. And I thought if someone was with you handling it all, you’d feel better.”

  At that Morgan burst into tears and wrapped her arms around my neck. “I love you, Lucas. I love you so much. Thank you.”

  I held her against me as tightly as I could knowing it would be the last time for a while.

  That thought made my chest ache.

  But I couldn’t think about that. Not now.

  “I love you too,” I said, kissing her.

  “WHERE THE FUCK is your head, Bradley? You need to focus!” Jack screamed at me in the dressing room before we went out onto the pitch to start the game.

  I didn’t even bother to answer. My mind was elsewhere.

  With Morgan.

  She had texted me once she and Mo were on the train headed to London. I wouldn’t be able to talk to her again until she landed in America. Then there would be an ocean between us.

  I tried not to think selfishly but it was hard.

  I knew she needed to be with her mother but I missed her already. I hadn’t counted on this woman becoming such an integral part of my life in such a short amount of time.

  “How long is Morgan going to be gone?” Alan asked, lacing up his cleats.

  I pulled the yellow captain’s band up over my arm. “I don’t know. Her mum had a heart attack and is in the hospital.”

  “Will she stay in the states?” Nick asked, listening in on our conversation.

  “I have no fucking idea,” I barked.

  Nick held his hands up. “Mate, I was only asking.”

  I ran my hand over my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take your head off.”

  Alan’s expression was worried. “You’ve got to get your head in the game, Luke? Every game matters.”

  “You sound like Millwood. And I have enough arseholes in my life.” I got to my feet and headed towards the door. I could hear the roar of the crowd. The chants.

  And Morgan wasn’t one of them.

  My mother and Anna were there though.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  Without Morgan I realized it never would be.

  THE REF HELD up a red card and the stadium booed.

  “What the fuck? That was a clear dive!” I shouted in the referee’s face, my blood boiling.

  The Leeds Rangers were playing dirty and now Stefan had been sent off for dangerous play during a tackle against one of their defenders. The other player had gone down too soft in my opinion and I thought the ref was being unnecessarily tough on our team.

  “You need to calm down or you will be booked as well,” the ref warned.

  We were doing poorly. We were losing two-nil. The Rangers were kicking our collective arses and they weren’t even a team we would have considered a viable threat before today.

  But giant killers were part of the game. It’s what kept things interesting. I just wished the giants being slayed weren’t us.

  I watched as Stefan walked off the pitch. We were now down to ten men and we still had thirty minutes left to play.
Things weren’t looking good at all.

  I patted Craig on the back as we jogged back into position. I was angry as hell. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. My calves were starting to burn.

  The Leeds defense was shutting me down every time I made a run for the ball. Even over the crowd I could hear Jack screaming at us.

  Time ticked down and we continued to fight. I collided with the Ranger’s striker and we fell to the ground. The prick had purposefully elbowed me in the gut and tried to sweep my legs out from underneath me. I shoved the guy. I couldn’t help it. It was an instinct. I wanted to take him out.

  The ref held up a yellow card and I almost lost it.

  “You fucking wanker!” I hollered.

  Nolan started screaming in the ref’s face and another yellow card was held up for him.

  The Rangers were awarded a free kick.

  Things were going from bad to worse.

  I hadn’t been able to hit my stride. I was off today. More than off. I was absolute bollocks.

  Then I saw the ball soaring through the air and I started running, my head up, watching it the entire time.

  I missed. The Leeds’ defender knocked into me and I fell to the ground. It was a dirty, unnecessary play.

  The other team kicked the ball clear.

  “Not such a bad boy are you now, Bradley?” the Leeds defender sneered.

  The whistle blew.

  We had lost.

  It was humiliating.

  “WHAT THE FUCK was that?” Jack screamed. His face was red. He was spitting everywhere.

  “Everyone has an off day,” Alan muttered.

  “An off day? That was a bloody massacre!” Jack slammed his hand into the wall. “I expect better from you! You should expect better from yourselves!”

  I rolled my eyes. He had a right to be mad, but not to this level.

  It was a game. A bad game. This shit happened. The best teams in the world had off days.

  “And you, Bradley, what the absolute fuck?” Jack asked, advancing towards me. “You played like you were still in a nappy!”

  “Pardon?” I asked. “I played my arse off. Just like the rest of these guys. We fucked up. We lost. We feel shitty enough as it is.”

  Everyone was watching us.

  “No, you fucked up, Bradley. You let your team down. If you wear that band, you need to act like a leader. I didn’t see a lot of leading out there today.” Jack tore the band from my arm. “Training starts at eight sharp tomorrow morning.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “Suck it up, ladies. That’s what happens when you lose. You put in extra time. Be prepared to sweat.” Jack stormed from the dressing room.

  “He sure knows how to give a motivational speech,” Alan joked.

  “He’s a total jerk,” Finn said.

  “A jerk who’s used to winning, boys. Remember that. It would serve you well to follow his advice. To listen to what he has to tell you,” Mario piped up and then turned to me. “And Bradley, keep your personal shit off the pitch.”

  “Fuck off, Mario. I’m always professional.”

  Mario never came down on me. Not ever.

  Mario didn’t say anything else and followed in the direction Jack had gone.

  “Damn, they’re a bunch of moody cows,” Shane grumbled.

  “Mario’s right though, Bradley, your mind wasn’t in it. You let us all down because your lady left you,” Nolan said.

  “Don’t start, Dubois,” Alan warned him.

  “If you keep playing like that it will put a serious kink in your negotiations with Liverpool,” Nolan continued, a sneer on his face.

  Everything went silent.

  You could hear a pin drop.

  “Shut your gob, Frenchie,” I snarled, clenching my fists.

  “What’s he talking about? I thought you had turned down the Liverpool offer,” Alan asked, glancing between Nolan and me. Shane, Nick, Craig, and Bruno came closer, listening intently.

  “They’ve offered him twenty million quid, of course he’s thinking about it. I’ve heard they’ve added a nice signing bonus too.” Who was feeding him information?

  “You’re leaving the team, Gov?” Stoney asked, looking a mixture of sad and betrayed.

  “I never said I was—”

  “Twenty million quid? Why are they offering you that much? You’ve played in the Premier League for half a fucking season? Some of us have been kicking around longer than that,” Shane exclaimed and I could tell he was getting angry. It was true that money and contracts could tear a team apart. I was seeing that right now.

  Everyone stared at me. Some were openly hostile. Most were hurt.

  Fucking Nolan Dubois. I was going to kick his arse.

  “You’ve just been waiting to drop that bombshell, haven’t you?” I asked, deadly calm. Alan knew the look in my eye was dangerous. He moved to stand between me and the man I was starting to hate above all others.

  “I just think the team should know how committed their captain is. Or should I say how uncommitted.” Nolan shrugged in that nonchalant European way that made me want to bash his brains out.

  “You slimy, motherfucker—”

  “Don’t start on Nolan because he let your secret out. He wasn’t the one thinking of bailing on his squad,” Nick snapped.

  “So you’re telling me if Man City or Chelsea came knocking offering you millions of pounds you wouldn’t be tempted?” I asked, my voice rising to a shout.

  Nick wouldn’t look at me. None of them would.

  “Maybe you should go then. If money means more than loyalty to you,” Shane said, turning his back to me and leaving the dressing room.

  One by one, my teammates turned away from me. Their silence saying everything.

  “You are one serious piece of shit, Dubois.” I started to go after Nolan again but Alan held me back.

  “Chill out, Luke.” Alan shoved me back, a little harder than he normally would. Then he turned to the Judas. “Get out, Dubois. You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

  “What did I do? Why am I the bad guy here?” Nolan demanded.

  “Get the hell out, now.” Alan was angry. The chords of his neck stood out prominently. Nolan, realizing he was moments away from getting his the shit beat out of him, scurried from the dressing room like the dickless wonder he was.

  The adrenaline fizzled out of me and I sat down heavily on the bench. I was tired. And heartsick.

  I missed Morgan.

  Now my team hated me.

  It had been a bang up day on all accounts.

  “Guys, about the Liverpool thing—” I started to say but Craig interrupted me.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Just go home. Talk to Morgan.”

  Alan wouldn’t look at me. I tried to catch his gaze. “Alan. Mate. Come on—”

  “Later.”

  And then he left.

  I was alone.

  Morgan

  I landed at Dulles International Airport around eleven at night. I didn’t sleep during the flight. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother.

  Mo had been a godsend during those long, arduous hours traveling to the airport. It felt as though it had taken forever. The train had been overcrowded. The man behind me sneezed into my hair at least a half-dozen times.

  And all I could do was obsess over what was going on with my mom. I was a mess. I almost got on the wrong shuttle to the airport. I got off the tube, leaving my suitcase behind and Mo had to jump back on and grab it before the train took off.

  Thank god Lucas had asked his agent to come along. I don’t know what I would have done had he not been there. He literally took care of everything. He checked me in at the airport. He handed me my boarding pass. He walked me to security. He even gave me money for food on the other side. I argued of course about that but he was just as bad as Lucas and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Right before going through security the pudgy man hugged me. “Take care of yourself, M
organ.” I almost started crying again but was able to hold it together long enough to get to my gate.

  Now I was back in the states.

  At one time I had wanted nothing more than to be back on home soil. I had been so homesick for Virginia. For the humid air and driving on the right side of the road.

  Now I felt almost like a stranger in my own country. The accents didn’t sound right. And all I wanted was a nice cup of tea and a biscuit.

  Lucas had arranged for a rental car to be ready for me when I landed. He had thought of absolutely everything.

  I wanted to call him and tell him I had gotten to the US safely but it was four in the morning, UK time.

  He was most likely asleep.

  I thought about him sleeping in his bed. I wished I were with him.

  I missed him all ready and it had only been a matter of hours.

  I wanted to hear his voice more than just about anything. But I needed to get to my mom.

  I had to call my office in a few hours. I had left a message with Mr. Richardson before I had boarded the plane at Heathrow, letting him know I was called away by a family emergency. But once I had a handle on my mother’s condition I would need to call him again and talk about how long I could take off. I wasn’t even sure about sick leave and whether that covered family illness. I was absolutely clueless.

  My head was in turmoil. I was exhausted. My eyes burned from lack of sleep. And now I had to drive an hour and a half to the hospital.

  I blasted the radio and rolled down the windows to stay awake. It was unseasonably warm for October. The air was thick and it smelled like rain. But the wind in my face kept me from dozing off behind the wheel.

  Maybe it was the fact I was slightly delirious, but the drive went relatively fast. There was little traffic on the road that time at night so I made it to the hospital around twelve-thirty.

  I headed towards reception and the lady behind the desk directed me to the third floor. My mother was in room 312. Intensive care.

  I felt as if were walking in molasses. I felt slow and heavy. Scared to see her. My mother dying had always been my greatest fear. She was all I had, having never known my father, and extended family being all but non-existent. I would have nightmares as a child about her funeral. The school counselor said the dreams were stemmed from anxiety. No duh.