Page 95 of Blindsided
Roan laughs and almost slips off his stool. “You’ve always told me you’re a trainable fool, though.”
“Aye,” I reply, my eyes blinking as I face forward and wonder how hard I have to bash my head into this bar to knock me back in time.
“I’m surprised you didn’t lose my number when you moved to Scotland,” Santino’s voice rings into the phone, making my skin crawl. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
I clear my throat, my head still banging from this shite hangover I have. “Roan told me to call you and ask some questions about my contract.”
I hear a huff of breath on the other line. “Did he now?”
I breathe out slowly through my nose, trying to find my patience with this bawbag. “Santino, I have a crippling headache, so if you could lose the slimy guy act, I’d be most appreciative.”
Santino chuckles as if he enjoys the thought of me in pain. “Do you want out of your contract with your current club?”
I blink in confusion, the question surprising the piss out of me. “Would Bethnal Green actually consider buying out my current contract for a transfer?”
“No,” Santino replies with a laugh, and then I hear the rustling of papers in the background. “But because I knew you were a fucking idiot when you came into my office that day and making rash decisions, the deal your agent and I brokered included a buy-back clause.”
“What?” I ask, my face twisting up in confusion. A buy-back clause? Christ, I should have paid closer attention to my contract instead of relying on my agent to handle everything. “So, what does that mean exactly?”
“It means that Bethnal Green can buy you back for a fixed amount when the January transfer window opens up if Rangers agree to it.”
“Fucking hell, are you telling me I could be back playing for Bethnal this winter?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Santino confirms, his voice crisp and businesslike. “I’ve already spoken with their team, and they’re interested in sending you back since you’ve been such a shit purchase for them.”
“Jesus Christ, will they agree? Would Bethnal Green be willing to buy me back?” I ask, my heart beating out of my chest as I consider the idea that I could be back home in London in only a few months.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “I’m sure I could get Vaughn to go for it, but I have a personal request that I need to put in front of you before I go and talk him into this.”
“Christ, man, what?” I snap, eager to get this show on the road.
“I need to talk to your sister.”
My body instantly tenses. “No fucking way.”
“Maclay. It’s just talking.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Mac,” Santino growls into the phone. “I set up your contract to Scotland with a buy-back clause because I knew you were making an emotional decision that you might later regret. And I knew that Vaughn wouldn’t let you go without one. You’re too important to this club. So please try to understand that I’m not a bad fucking guy. And there’s shit you don’t know about me. Shit that maybe I’ll tell you someday. But not before I tell your sister, and I don’t want to speak to your sister without your blessing.”
I exhale heavily at his lofty request, absorbing the serious cadence of his voice. What could he have to talk to my sister about? Haven’t they been through enough together? Then I recall how closed off Tilly is about what happened to her, and maybe that’s because the two of them have unfinished business they need to discuss. Maybe my sister actually wants to talk to him.
“If my sister doesn’t want to talk to you, you don’t talk to her…got it?”
“Of course, Maclay. That goes without saying.”
I nod, my jaw clenched because I know I’m at a point in my life where I’ll do just about anything to get my arse back to London and show Freya what she means to me. And if the Harris family stands by Santino, he might actually have some redeemable qualities.
“Okay,” I reply, my tone clipped. “If Tilly agrees to talk to you, I won’t get in your way about it.”
There’s a deep breath on the other end of the line before Santino says, “For the record, Maclay, I would have pushed this buy-back through without your blessing.”
“For the record, Santino, I still don’t like you.”
“Allie, where is Freya?” I bark into the phone line, pacing back and forth while clutching a pet carrier in my hand. “I’m standing in her flat, and she’s not here, and she’s not picking up her mobile.”
“What the hell are you doing in Freya’s flat?” Allie fires back. “How did you get in?”
