On Loverose Lane (Return to Dublin Street #1)

36. Callan

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CALLAN

W e started our drill for the day after a warm-up. The coaches laid out cones across the pitch for us to do the fartlek drill. Fartlek was a Swedish term for when you constantly change speed when running. It mimicked the way our speed changes during a match. They had us run it with and without the ball, and it took up most of our training session. We wore the performance-measuring packs on our vests as we worked on our endurance and quality of control over the ball.

Every other day, we focused on one particular drill, with a day in between for recovery time. I was used to pushing my body to its limit, and honestly, I couldn’t imagine ever not being at this level of fitness. Walking onto the pitch, playing with my team to dominate a match, wasn’t the only high I got from the sport. It was the strict dedication to my training. The feeling of being physically strong. I didn’t think that was something I’d lose when retirement knocked on my door.

I truly believed my team and my fitness had been the best thing for my mental health since I was a teenager. The team were my family, especially Baird and John, and while they couldn’t entirely fill the emptiness left behind from the loss of my parents, they were a balm. Moreover, anytime I had shit eating me up inside, I could expel it physically out on the pitch, whether during training or during a match.

I didn’t just push myself to my limit during training that day because I wanted to annihilate Ardarroch on Saturday. I did it because having Beth break down in my arms the other night had shaken me. To realize I hadn’t known her as well as I thought I did. To have any past bitterness I still harbored toward her disappear entirely. To feel too much at the sight of her in pain.

My chest fucking ached with it.

And I couldn’t handle what that meant. Or what it meant that I wanted to fix everything for her.

So I left it out on the pitch.

“Excellent, Keen!” one of our coaches, Cammy, shouted. “This is what I want, lads! I don’t care how fucking tired you are, when you’ve got that ball, I want you to dribble like it’s fucking attached to your feet!”

“Keen!”

I looked up from where I was running to find our gaffer waving at me. Frowning, because he rarely stopped us mid drill, I jogged over to him. Sweat lashed off me and my limbs grew heavy as I drew to a halt.

The gaffer frowned. “Paul called in from the stadium. Gavin is here. He’s refusing to leave, and he’s getting aggressive. Security are ready to throw him out … if that’s what you want.”

Brian knew about my situation with Gavin. He probably knew almost everything that could potentially mess with his players’ heads.

My fucking fuck of a sperm donor. If we threw him out, he’d come back worse than before. “I’ll talk to him, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Training’s nearly up, anyway.” The gaffer patted me on the back as I passed.

It was a fair walk back to the stadium. The door slammed shut behind me, my football boots clacking on the floors as I made my way through the building to the visitors’ entrance. My pulse was already up from all the cardio, but it now raced with dread.

Through the double doors, I could see Gavin at reception yelling at Danny and his colleague, Vik. Vik was a huge Russian bloke Caley hired as security, and Gavin was a fucking moron. Vik looked ready to murder him with his bare hands and probably could.

“Gavin,” I snapped his name as I strode into the reception. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

When I first went to live with Gavin and my stepmum, he’d been a good-looking bloke. Was a personal trainer at a gym. Looked after himself. His wife Ashley was also a trainer. But she left him after I went to Caley United. He’d been cheating on her left, right, and center. After that, he was fired from the gym for sexual misconduct. And that was the beginning of the deep spiral.

Now the man in front of me was barely recognizable. His face was bloated with years of drinking, as was his gut. He was disheveled and aged. Gavin had gone through a few jobs and last I’d heard he was on the dole and shacked up with a woman in Dalkeith who was stupid enough to put up with his shite.

“Is that any way to greet your old man?” Gavin turned, arms wide open as if to embrace me.

“Touch me and I’ll knock your teeth out,” I told him calmly.

His expression instantly changed. Ugly hatred gleamed in his eyes. “Ungrateful wee arsehole.”

I sighed heavily. Once upon a time, I’d tried to remind him that he’d had no hand in my success. Now I didn’t bother. The man was a delusional prick. “It’s time to leave.”

“Not without what I’m owed.” He stepped toward me, and I was very much aware of the people in the room, listening to this conversation.

“You’re owed nothing. Now leave, or I’ll have you physically removed.”

“All I want is a cut.” Gavin leaned into me, sneering. “You’re rolling in it while I’m struggling day-to-day. How’s that fair?”

“Maybe if you didn’t piss it all away on drink.”

He curled his upper lip in a snarl. “How did I raise such an arrogant wee fucker?”

“You didn’t raise me, Gavin. My mum and dad raised me and then Caley United did the rest. Now get the fuck out of my club.”

Gavin considered this, something turning over in his mind. I could see the deviousness in his eyes. “I saw photos of you online with the Carmichael girl.”

My stomach knotted.

He smirked. “Did you know I used to be pals with her dad? Aye, you’ve got a lot in common with Braden. He thinks he’s better than me too. I showed him how wrong he is.”

I kept my mouth shut, not giving him ammunition.

Still, Gavin continued, “Aye, that Carmichael girl … she’s fit like her mum. Wouldn’t mind seeing a sexy wee piece like that in the flesh.” He licked his lips. “You’re playing the game there, lad. Quite proud. Got yourself in there with the money … and I bet that pussy’s nice and tight. I’d like to see that up close too.”

The threat in his tone was like a fist in my face.

And for the first time, I retaliated.

I grabbed him by the collar of his T-shirt and the adrenaline pumping through me was like a superpower. I lifted Gavin off his feet and slammed him into the wall like he barely weighed anything. His head cracked off it, his eyes wide with shock as I shoved my face in his, teeth bared. “You come near Beth or her family or me ever fucking again, and I will ruin you!”

Hands were on me, pulling me off. At first I struggled against them.

Then Baird’s voice was in my ear. “Calm doon, Callan. Calm doon, pal.”

Vik and Danny had a hold of Gavin and were practically carrying him to the exit as he struggled and swore and cursed.

I realized the arms around me, holding me back, were Baird’s.

I slumped. “I’m fine.”

Baird let me go and I stepped out and turned to find my friend and the gaffer at my back.

Embarrassment cut through my fury. “Sorry.”

The gaffer squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay. You say the word, and he’s banned from the grounds. I’d prefer it. I can’t have that man fucking with your head, Keen.”

I wanted to nod and tell him to do it. To ban him.

But with Beth on Gavin’s radar and the fact that I’d reacted to his threat against her … I was afraid if I banned him, he’d retaliate where it would hurt me. So I shook my head and turned away.

As Baird walked me back to the shower room in silence, I knew the only real answer to this was to let Beth go. I didn’t want Gavin anywhere near her, and I knew for damn sure her parents didn’t either.

However, I didn’t pick up my phone to text her that we needed to talk. Instead, I looked at my calendar. Our six-week deal ended in two weeks. And I wanted those two weeks.

I couldn’t give them up.

I couldn’t give her up.

Not yet.