Page 33 of The Game

She blithely ignored the question. “What happens when they find out? You can kiss goodbye to your consultancy dreams. The care board won’t accept ‘but I love him’ as a reason for you to be cosying up to a violent thug. Quit it now while you can.”

“It? My relationship? Can you even hear yourself? That’s enough. You’ve had your say. I’m going to hang up now for the sake of our friendship.”

My heart pounded, but I stabbed the screen to end the call. Then I stared into the night outside the cab, the driver’s gentle Christmas music almost a mockery of that awful call.

Far worse than Annie’s words was the horrible fact that, with some of her accusations, I’d thought them, too.

Malachi implied he wanted to keep me, or at least extend our terms. Could he really love me? Annie was right—he could’ve caught anyone. I wasn’t special in that respect. What if it was only the effects of the game in play?

No, he cared about me, I was certain.

My heart couldn’t take it. It hurt to consider not being with the huge fighter, and there was only one reason for that. I’d fallen for him for real.

Every day, we said ‘I love you’, and now I truly did. It scared me to my very core. It was real for me, but if it faded for him, I’d be right back to being alone. Friendless, too, with my closest friend so angry at my choices.

We’d reached the gym. The taxi driver dropped me at the side of the road, and I crossed the dark forecourt, fewer cars here than usual.

Shadows stretched to hidden corners.

It was late. Malachi had left the restaurant at seven, and it was past nine now, and no other businesses appeared open on the icy trading estate. I wished I’d had the chance to message him, but the call had taken over my thoughts, and I didn’t want to get my phone out now.

The cab drove away, and I put my head down and trod toward the light above the gym’s door. Something clicked behind me.

Awareness prickled down my spine.

I turned around. “Hello?”

A man lurched from around a wall as if he’d been hiding there. I gasped and put my hand to my chest. From his huge build, he had to be a fighter, though I couldn’t see him well enough to identify him from Malachi’s or the women’s introductions.

Then he lifted his head, revealing something that drove terror through my veins—a black bandanna hiding his face. Almost the same as the contestants had worn during the game.

I scrabbled backwards.

He laughed. “No, Emmeline, you aren’t going anywhere.”

Chapter 16

Malachi – a few minutes earlier

My phone burned a hole in the mat, just out of reach. I wanted to check it. I needed to track the cab I’d ordered for Emmeline as it should’ve arrived by now, but the girl in front of me was having a rough time.

Maisie had taken on board the training suggestions I’d given, but this evening, she was all over the place. After one complete miss in trying to connect a hit to my face, she burst into tears.

I’d been holding her for a solid minute, trying to calm her down.

“Hush now. Come on, Maisie-mop. Take a breath.” I stroked her hair, just like I’d done when she was tiny.

Maisie sobbed and swiped angrily at her eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

“You’re still my baby. You always will be.”

“I won’t, though. Not if you get married to Emmeline. You’ll be with her and you’ll have more kids and there won’t be any space for me and Petra. Just like with Mum and the baby.”

Ah, there it was. The fear.

When any fighter suffered a bad performance or couldn’t get their head in the game, we prescribed talking therapy. The idea was to work through what was stressing them out and get the issue out in the open. Concerns about a cheating spouse, worries about tax bills, all kinds of shite could interrupt the connection from mind to body.

I hugged Maisie closer. “Fifteen years ago, a woman came to me and showed me a sonogram picture and told me I was going to be a dad. From that very second, I got struck down by love for the tiny little Maisie-mop I could see on the picture, and that love hasn’t dimmed any.”

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