by Vivian Wood
Gregor Madras, the star center of Galaxy, soon singled Liam out. Every move Liam made, Madras stuck to him. Every time Liam’s foot touched the ball, Madras was right there, sticking his own foot in the way to foul things up.
It was the nature of the game, of course, but Madras didn’t seem interested in taking control of the ball or scoring goals. He seemed more interested in trying to trip Liam and take him to the ground, embarrass him or even hurt him.
A couple of times when Liam glanced at Galaxy’s coach, he caught signals flashing between him and Madras. Liam was the Unified’s biggest threat, and Galaxy was trying to neutralize him.
Sending the center forward to the medical tent was a dirty but viable way to assure victory. Too bad Liam wasn’t going to let that fucking happen.
Instead, Liam kept shooting mocking grins at Madras, intentionally throwing hard elbows and knees every chance he got. Madras glowered at him, which only made Liam play harder.
After Liam scored his first goal of the game, the fans went ballistic. The sound was deafening, filling Liam with a kind of euphoria better than any drug. He felt downright fucking stoned, floating on bloody air.
After his goal, he faced off against Galaxy’s center forward again. They both eyed the ball, lunging forward. But instead of going for the ball, the Galaxy center hopped right over it and did a little turn, getting the cleats of his right boot into Liam’s ankle, hard.
Liam faltered and dropped back a step, unwilling to let the other bloke seriously hurt him. It was a big nasty, but nothing he hadn’t seen before. He just kept his focus, ignored Madras at his back every step, and worked to win control of the ball.
The second he got his chance, intercepting a pass and turning the ball toward Galaxy’s goal, he knew he needed to shake Madras.
Even as Coach Havershom was screaming bloody murder on the sidelines, Liam signaled to Carlos and Alejandro, who approached from both sides in a pincer movement. Liam picked up speed, sprinting hard.
The second that Liam put distance between himself and Madras, Carlos and Alejandro pretended to fumble and collide, falling to the ground and taking Madras with them.
Half the fans cheered, the other half booed. Liam burst forward and passed the ball to one of the defense players, then circled around to receive the ball once more.
He slammed the ball into the goal in a single smooth kick, and the crowd went mad. Liam trotted off, heart thundering.
This. This feeling, this was why he played. The infinite satisfaction of doing something perfectly right, a moment of true achievement.
So rare in life.
Unfortunately when he faced off again at center field, warring against Madras for control once more, things didn’t go his way. The ball lay in the center of the field, the referee blew his whistle.
Madras and Liam went at the ball together, and Liam took the lead. As soon as he crossed onto Galaxy’s side, though, several players came at him at once.
Though he saw it coming a few seconds before, one of Galaxy’s players managed to get his foot between Liam and the ball. Then, driven by sheer momentum, Liam tripped the other player and sent him crashing to the ground.
Liam went down too, but it certainly looked like he’d intentionally fouled the Galaxy player. It didn’t help that the other guy was on the ground, clutching his shin and howling like a wounded toddler.
The fans were frothing with anger and excitement, though Liam couldn’t tell whether they were for him or against him.
The whistle blew, the ref threw a red card.
“Mother of FUCK!” Liam growled, accepting a hand up from Alejandro.
“That looked nasty, my friend,” Alejandro said, shaking his head.
The whistle blew, the ref pointing at Liam. He knew well enough what that meant. Benched for the rest of the game.
Red-faced and furious, Liam trotted off the field to various screams and cheers from the crowd.
When Liam reached the sidelines, Coach Havershom gave him a long look. Like he knew it wasn’t Liam’s fault, exactly, but he was disappointed that Liam hadn’t outmaneuvered the play.
“Just get off the pitch,” Havershom snapped at Liam. “Davies, you’re midfield. Tell Carlos to take center striker…”
Jack was on the sidelines too, and he stood and approached Liam. Liam just needed a couple of minutes stretching after his fall, drinking some water and catching his breath.
Liam could see the hesitation on Jack’s face as he walked over. Liam and Jack hadn’t spoken in a few days, which was Liam’s intention. Liam was starting to resent Jack a little, and having a break from Jack seemed like a good idea.
“Hey, tough break,” Jack said.
Liam just shrugged, stretching his quads out.
“Anything I can do to help?” Jack asked.
“You can stop gambling,” Liam said.
Jack blinked at him, looking utterly surprised. “How do you know about that?”
“I’m not a bloody idiot. I’ve been running all around town, trying to sort out what you owe, whose pocket you’re in,” Liam said, grabbing a towel and wiping his face and neck.
“You don’t have to do that,” Jack said. “I’m taking care of it.”
“What, by doing fights?” Liam asked.
Jack’s mouth opened and closed, but this time he just squared his stance and crossed his arms.
“It’s my mess to clean up. None of your business,” Jack said.
Liam wanted to snarl and rage, especially after what just happened on the field, but this was neither the time nor the place.
“What do you think, you can owe that much money and it won’t touch anything else in your life, mate? You’re bloody stupid for that. They’re going to ask you to throw a game. They’re going to make you hurt someone, film it so they have blackmail material.” Liam paused. “They’re going to threaten Audrey. I can’t let that happen, can I?”
“I can look out for my own sister,” Jack hissed.
“No, Jack, you can’t. You can’t protect her any more than you can protect yourself,” Liam sighed.
Liam turned and jogged toward the locker room. Fans noticed him leaving and started to boo, which was rubbish. It wasn’t as if Liam could control the fact that he’d been taken out of the game…
He stalked into the building, ready to get the hell out of the stadium. Ready to get the hell out of Atlanta, as a matter of fact. This bloody city was getting to him.
And of course Audrey was standing in front of the locker room entrance. Arms crossed, anxious expression on her face.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Her question infuriated him. For being the person who he saw the most, she didn’t understand him or his profession any more than the fans out in the stands.
“Fine,” he snapped. “I have business to attend to. Find your own way home.”
Liam left her there, open-mouthed. He felt a little twinge of regret when he saw hurt splash across her face, but nothing he’d said was out of line.
He and Audrey were spending too much bloody time together, simple as that. The last few weekends had been filled with worrying about Jack or flirting with Audrey. He hadn’t gone out, hadn’t met any girls…
If Liam wasn’t careful, the Cross siblings would take over his life. Audrey especially, those big blue eyes of hers looking at him with so much expectation…
The worst was that a little part of him wished he could impress her, show off for her, prove just how much he could achieve. His usual response to others’ expectations was to raise his middle finger and do the opposite of what was asked of him.
The fact that prim little Audrey made a small part of him want to fall in line, made him want to be different…
That was not acceptable.
Liam needed some space, needed to blow off some steam without Audrey watching his every move and disapproving when he did something she didn’t deem appropriate.
He showered and changed as quickly as possible,
and was out of the locker room before the rest of the match was even over. He took the back way out, in case Audrey was still waiting, and got to his car without speaking to another living soul.
Leaving the parking lot with a squeal of tires, Liam realized he wasn’t sure where he was going. He didn’t want to go back to the house. That was the first place Audrey would come looking for him.
Or Jack, who liked to apologize after a fight.
Liam decided to head to a part of town he didn’t know well. He drove into East Atlanta and parked, then walked around until he saw a bar called the Earl. It looked appropriately seedy, with plenty of patrons inside though it was early and a Sunday.
His kind of place. He grabbed a stool at the bar, wasting a few hours drinking and playing pool. He had a rather good burger and chips and listened to the bartender chatter about how bad traffic was in Atlanta these days.
It was a relief, getting away for an afternoon. He slowed down a little after he ate, evening himself out with nearly a whole pitcher of water. No matter what he did today, he still had practice tomorrow.
No need to throw himself off balance by getting drunk and dehydrated.
That’s probably the most adult thought I’ve had in ages, he thought to himself. I’m getting boring in my old age. Wait, is late twenties old? It feels old…
It didn’t really matter. The important thing was that Liam was alone, that he wasn’t worrying about what Audrey thought or whether Jack was in a gutter somewhere.
He did get recognized by a couple of fans, two pretty brunettes who bought Liam a drink and flirted a little before asking for a selfie. Liam snapped a photo with them, wondering if he ought to ask them back to his house for a little fun.
He thought of how fizzed Audrey would get, and couldn’t bring himself to do it. The girls left eventually, although one of them did leave her phone number. Liam didn’t even pick it up, just left it on the bar.
What in the hell is wrong with me? he wondered. He felt restless in a way he hadn’t felt before. Like he was missing something, like he should be doing something. But what?
As the sun went down, Liam paid his tab and drove home. The house was quiet when he got there, and in a moment of selfishness, Liam felt glad for it.
He stripped and crawled into his bed, pulling the comforter over his face, and slept. It was deep and dreamless and satisfying, until the chirp of his cell phone pulled him from the darkness.
Mumbling a curse, he found his jeans and pulled out his phone. It was only eleven p.m., so he’d only slept for a few hours at most.
A number he didn’t know flashed on the screen. The phone number caught his attention. It was from London, but not a number he recognized.
He checked the time; it was the middle of the night in London. He felt his stomach sink.
“Hello?” he answered.
“Mr. Packham?” came a woman’s crisp British accent.
“Yes,” he said.
“Your wife has been in an auto accident,” the woman said. “She’s at St. Thomas’s. She’s going to be fine, but will need someone to pick her up.”
“Natasha?” he asked, confused.
“Yes, sir.”
“She’s not my wife,” he groused.
“I apologize, sir. She’s given you as her primary emergency contact.”
“I can’t help,” Liam said. “We’re not married. I’m not even living in the country at the moment.”
“Again, sir. My apologies. We will try the other contacts on her list.”
Liam hung up with a growl. Natasha had been silent for months now, perhaps thinking that if she froze him out he’d realize that he missed her. Unlikely, considering that when he broke off their ill-advised engagement, she took off her engagement ring and flung it into the Thames just to spite him.
Nearly ten thousand pounds, right in the river. Still, not being attached to the social-climbing, money-grubbing girl band starlet was worth every single bit of it. Tonight’s phone call was an unwelcome intrusion, a reminder straight from Natasha to Liam.
His phone rang again, still in his hand. He answered without even looking.
“What?” he growled, assuming it was the hospital again.
“Packham?” a different voice asked. This time it was an American voice, low and rough and male.
“Yeah,” Liam said, suspicious.
“I was told to call you, let you know there’s a fight tonight. Thirty minutes. You got a pen?”
“Uhhh… hold on.”
Liam scrambled for a pen and paper, then took down the address. The guy hung up straight away, leaving Liam to pull on jeans and a fresh t-shirt. He ran a comb through his hair and put his shoes on, then paused.
What, exactly, did one need to bring to an illegal pit fight in order to save a friend’s neck?
Cash. Liam knelt by his bed and opened his floor safe, pulling out a stack of ten thousand American dollars. At a loss for what to do with it, he grabbed his leather jacket and put it on, then stuck the money in the jacket’s pocket.
When he finally walked out of his room, he stopped short. Audrey was sitting in the living room, fully dressed. Sipping a glass of wine and watching him with a great deal of interest.
“Going somewhere?” she asked.
Liam gritted his teeth. He’d already lashed out at her once today, and didn’t want to do it again, but her tone was already grating on his nerves.
“Out,” he said, moving toward the door.
Audrey popped up to her feet, tossing back the last of her wine. She followed him, picking up her purse. Liam stopped, then turned.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Going with you.”
“No.” It was far too dangerous, but he also knew by now that he couldn’t tell her that. It would only bring on a protracted argument, and he didn’t have time for that right now.
“You don’t have a choice. I’ll call your agent. I’ll call the team owners, if I have to.”
“I’m going to fuck a girl,” Liam said. The words were out of his mouth before he could hold them back. It was the only think he could think of to keep her from following him.
Audrey’s face crumpled. For a moment, he thought she was going to cry.
Instead, she just mumbled, “oh!” and sat back down on the couch.
“I’ll be back…” he said, just digging himself in deeper. “Errr, later.”
“Okay,” she said. She was looking at the floor, not at him.
Fuck. He’d really fucked that up.
Still, he didn’t have time to explain himself. He turned and headed for his car, cursing himself.
***
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Liam swore as he exited the fight, supporting Jack as they headed for the car. “What a sight you are, mate.”
Jack didn’t say anything as he hobbled from the nondescript Cabbagetown warehouse. Probably because his face was good and busted up, in addition to having what looked like a badly bruised right thigh and some more broken ribs for good measure.
“D’you need the hospital?” Liam asked, grimacing when he readjusted his grip around Jack’s body and Jack groaned in pain.
Still, Jack just shook his head. “You have a real shiner too. That guy got a few good blows in.”
Liam blew out a breath. He’d cut in on the fight halfway through, bullying his way into the ring and dragging Jack out. The fight organizers hadn’t been thrilled about that, and one of the door guys had taken a couple shots at Liam.
At the moment, he knew he had a black eye and a busted rib or two, but he was ignoring all that.
“I don’t look as bad as you. Or the asshole that sucker punched me, come to think of it. He’s probably still lying in the alley.”
“Yeah. You won that one for sure,” Jack said.
“I can’t believe you’re doing fights,” Liam said as he helped his friend into the passenger seat of the Range Rover. “Your sister is going to shit a brick, you know that right?”
Jack didn’t say anything, but Liam could see a flicker of remorse in his eyes. Jack would do anything to make Audrey happy, to get her approval.
Liam was starting to get a little experience with that desire, himself. He felt for Jack; Audrey was a task master, and she expected a lot of the people in her life. As well she should, because she had a big heart and worked very hard to improve the lot of others around her.
Still…
“She’s gonna be livid,” Liam said as he got in and drove toward his house. “How many more of these fights have you agreed to do?”
Jack held up seven fingers.
“God, how much can you possibly owe them?” Liam said, then waved off Jack’s look of annoyance. “Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to know.”
They rode in silence for a few minutes, until finally Jack spoke.
“Why are you doing this?” he managed through his swollen lips.
Liam looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Are you just trying to get with my sister?”
Liam stopped at a red light, turning to Jack with a frown.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“I see you looking at her, her looking at you,” Jack said, shifting in his seat with a soft groan. “I’m not as stupid as people think.”
“I’m not trying to… no,” Liam said, shaking his head. He gritted his teeth against the half-lie, knowing full well that he’d sleep with Audrey the second she ever gave him the chance.
Liam suddenly realized that he was essentially counting on her uptightness to keep them both from making a terrible mistake. It was ridiculous, when he thought about it that way.
“Then why?” Jack asked.
It took Liam a moment to break from his thoughts of Audrey and come back to Jack’s original question.
“You’re my mate,” Liam said, shaking his head. “What more is there to it?”
“Why, though?” Jack asked. “You’re Liam fucking Packham. I’m no one.”
Liam pulled the car into his driveway and threw it in park, then considered Jack for a long moment.
