Chapter 19
19
Ella sat in the plush locker rooms at Chiswick College on a cold clear Saturday morning listening to Jake and Pete give their pre-game talk to the Demons. She could see the impossibly green, manicured field through the slats of the blind covering the window. As if a team of trained leprechauns had individually trimmed each blade of grass.
Occasional shouts from the large crowd filtered in as the astringent aroma of Deep Heating assaulted her senses. There was a kaleidoscope of butterflies in her stomach. Butterflies that had swallowed elephants.
She wanted to win . Not for her or for Jake or for Deluca, but for Trish. She wanted to see Tony Winchester go down.
“Ella?”
Jake and Pete were looking at her expectantly and Ella guessed it was her turn to speak. She enjoyed the tradition of her principal pep talk more and more each time and so, she thought, did the team. Or at least, it was a ritual they’d dare not buck in case any deviation from routine brought bad luck.
And they called women flighty!
She looked at each of the boys in turn. She could tell they were a little awed by their surroundings. Chiswick College was a physically impressive campus – landscaped gardens, space-age classrooms, intimidating sandstone buildings reeking of wealth.
And they were looking to her to tell them it didn’t matter. That how you played the game and the size of your heart trumped money and tradition.
But today she was reluctant.
Today she wanted to say things she never thought she’d ever think, let alone contemplate giving voice to. She wanted to say kill them, smash them, play dirty if you have to, gouge their eyes, punch them in the kidneys, spear their rich little heads into the ground if needs be – just win.
At any cost.
It went against everything she believed in but it was right there on the tip of her tongue, waging a battle against her political correctness to be heard.
“Ella?” Jake prompted.
She glanced at him. He was nodding at her to get on with it and she stood automatically, her gaze falling on Cameron. He was sitting so tall. So confident. And when he smiled at her she knew she’d come too far with him to take him backward.
Her legs trembled a little as she cleared her throat. “I’m not going to say much,” she said. “You guys have already done me and Deluca and Jake and Pete so proud. You’ve come a long way and earned yourselves a fearsome reputation. I know you want to win today. Well, guess what? I want you to win today, too.”
The Demons glanced at her with confused looks. They weren’t used to their principal being so outcome focused. But, as her words slowly dawned on them, they started to grin and, one by one, they started to clap and stomp their boots until the locker room was filled with an almighty clatter.
“So go on now,” she called out above the din, holding up her hand and waiting for the racket to die down. “Let’s get out there and show them how we do it on the southside.”
The team sprang to their feet, cheering and clapping and Ella laughed, caught up in the heady mix of exuberance and testosterone.
“Way to go, Ms. Lucas,” Jake murmured as the boys filed out of the room.
Ella favored him with a steady stare. “Annihilate him.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” he whispered, flicking a towel at her butt as he followed the team out.
Ella stayed until she was the only one left in the room, taking a moment to center herself, thinking about all that had got them to this point and the game ahead. She supposed others might have prayed but she didn’t think it was appropriate to ask for divine assistance in something as frivolous – compared to real life horrors – as a football game.
Or Tony Winchester’s demise, for that matter.
Instead, she wished for things to be right , then stepped out into the cool darkness of the tunnel that led from the locker rooms to the field.
“Ella?”
“Cam?” She frowned. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” The scrape of his boot against the concrete floor echoed around the tunnel as he shuffled his feet.
“Shouldn’t you be on the field?”
“I just want to… I’d like to talk to you for a moment.”
Ella peered over his shoulder, satisfied to see the game hadn’t yet started. “Okay.”
Taking a deep breath, he looked at his sister. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”
Ella blinked, completely taken aback by his apology, the only one she’d ever heard come from his mouth. “About our argument a few weeks ago?”
“No. Well, yes… that too. But I mean, just generally. I know I haven’t been very easy to get along with. It’s just… growing up in Trently was hard, you know?”
“Yeah.” She knew.
“And I dreamed for years my big sister would come and rescue me and when you didn’t it was easier to… hate you.”
Tears needled Ella’s eyes. “Oh, Cam! I would have, if I’d known, I would have.”
She took a step toward him but he took a step back and held out his hand to pause her movement. “I know that now. I do. And I didn’t hate you, not really. Miranda reckons I’m lucky to have such a cool big sister. And so do I.”
His voice cracked a little and Ella’s tears threatened to spill. A lump in her throat grew bigger, stretching to painful proportions. Maybe the counseling she’d insisted upon was making bigger inroads than she thought?
“I love you, Cam,” she whispered. “We may not have been brother and sister for long but we’re part of each other and I love you.”
Cameron’s gaze dropped to his boots. “Same,” he mumbled.
“Cam!”
Ella jumped as Jake’s exasperated command ricocheted around the cavernous tunnel. “What are you doing? It’s twenty seconds to kick-off.”
Cameron looked at Jake then at her. “Go,” she said, giving him a quick, fierce hug. “Go!”
He ran toward the light, his cleats clacking on the cement. Jake slapped him on the back as he passed and ran beside him, accompanying him to the field. Ella followed at a more sedate pace, her mind turning over the things Cam had said and their import. He’d been taking baby steps these past weeks but this was one giant leap.
For the first time she knew they were going to be alright.
The sound of boot hitting ball rang like a shot around the field as Ella emerged into the full light of day. The packed stadium erupted into a hearty cheer, the large contingent of Deluca supporters standing out in their red demon-horn headbands. They looked amazing and she slid hers in place as she hurried to the sideline bench.
Ella noticed a large contingent of press roped off on the opposite side of the field. John Wilmott was right in the middle, a smug look on his face. This game usually got plenty of press attention but it had been significantly elevated since Wilmott’s scandalous exposé on her life.
The story wasn’t about two high school teams anymore. As far as the national media was concerned it was about two old rivals squaring off against each other.
As though the pressure on the Demons wasn’t bad enough.
Ignoring the media, Ella plonked herself between Rosie and Trish and grabbed their hands. Simon was on the other side of Rosie and they were all sporting a set of devil-horn headbands. Pete was standing off to one side watching the play while Jake prowled along the sideline, a bedeviled Cerberus at his heels.
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing yet,” Rosie said.
It didn’t take long for that to change. And it wasn’t a change for the better.
Chiswick wiped the field with the Demons in the first half with their superior ball skills, as though it was their God-given right to win. Ella, as per her usual position, spent half the time with her hands over her eyes, begging Rosie and Trish to tell her what was happening.
Tony Winchester spent the first half on the opposite side of the field, yelling at his team despite their exemplary play. A slight fumble, a misstep, and he was hurling insults that made even Rosie blush.
It was a shame really, because Ella had to admit that, objectively, he was still an impressive-looking man. He hadn’t gone to seed as a lot of ex-jocks did. Tony Winchester still had it and it was easy to see why Trish had fallen for him. But as far as she was concerned, his black heart and cruel tongue made him uglier than a hat full of assholes.
After a particularly awful tongue-lashing, Trish curled her fingers around Ella’s so hard she winced. “He’s such a tyrant.” She shuddered. “Where the hell was my head?”
Ella shrugged. “Time has a way of eroding facades.”
“And he’s just butt-ugly under his,” Rosie added.
Trish laughed. “Yes, he is, isn’t he?”
“He’s a fucking mad man,” Rosie said. “Aren’t there rules against this kind of behavior in kids’ sports?”
Not that any of Chiswick’s team looked like kids.
At half time, Chiswick led by sixteen points, with Deluca only managing to get six on the board from one touchdown. Jake followed his team back into the locker room. Ella, Simon, Rosie and Trish joined them, as did Cerberus, who found Cam immediately and collapsed on the floor at his feet.
Jake eyed the dejected players, struggling to find the right words to inspire and empower. He glanced at Ella, who gave him an encouraging nod. He opened his mouth, hoping to God the words that came out were the ones the Demons needed to hear. But before he said a single thing, a string of obscenities from the Chiswick camp next door echoed around the Deluca room.
Jake’s mouth shut automatically, stunned by the ferocity of Tony’s pep talk. He was ranting about the Deluca touchdown. How Chiswick’s strategy was to keep their opponents off the board altogether and how badly they’d fucked up. He was screaming failure, failure, failure . Calling them morons. Calling them girls .
“Why is he yelling at them?”
Jake tuned back in to his locker room and saw the stunned looks on his players’ faces as Ned, a skinny red-headed kicker, voiced the question that was obviously on all of their minds.
“They’re really good,” Ned said. “They’re all over us.”
Jake glanced at Ella standing by the door, her expression livid, then at Trish who looked deathly pale. “Yes.” Jake cleared his throat. “Yes, they are. Their coach, however, is a monumental asshole.”
A few of the guys laughed but Jake could see that most of them were still tuned into Tony Winchester’s continued verbal abuse of his team. He couldn’t blame them. It was ghoulishly, horrifyingly, compelling. Like hanging around a crash site watching the victims being cut out of their cars.
But he didn’t want Tony in their heads.
Jake belted on a nearby locker, the sound crashing into the morbid stillness and pulling everyone’s attention back to him.
“Don’t listen to him,” Jake said quietly. “Listen to me.”
He spoke to them then, about their struggle to get here. About their spirit, their heart, their triumphs – things that Ella usually talked about. He praised their individual strengths and applauded their teamwork. And gradually the next-door rant faded and he could see by the expressions on their faces that they were only listening to him.
“Whatever happens today, you boys have made me prouder than I’ve ever been. Prouder even than when I won my first Super Bowl ring. And you have one thing that they…”
Jake pointed next door to where the rant continued.
“Don’t have. Respect. For me. For Pete. For Ms. Lucas. For each other. And you have my respect too. I know how hard you’ve worked and it’s because of you I get out of bed each morning with a spring in my step. It’s because of you my life has a purpose again. After the way my career ended, I didn’t want to be back in the limelight, but you’ve shown me that just because things are hard, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do them. Which is why, despite what that board says, we’re going to win this.”
Finishing up, Jake took a moment to look at each team member and shake their hand. “Pete?” He raised an eyebrow at Pete, indicating he could take the floor, but he declined. “Ella?”
She shook her head, tears shining in her eyes. “Nothing to add, Coach.”
A loud rap at the door alerted them that half time was nearly over. “Alright,” Jake said. “Let’s line up outside and run onto that field like we’ve already won.”
The boys sprang to their feet, cheering and high-fiving as they filed out and waited in the tunnel for the signal to take the field. The adults stood behind them, Jake slipping his hand into Ella’s and the full wattage of her you-were-so-hot-just-now smile hit him right in the groin.
The clatter of cleats alerted Jake to the presence of the Chiswick team emerging from their locker room.
“Well, well, well,” a voice drawled from behind him. “If it isn’t The Prince and the Pauper.”
Ella flinched and Jake stiffened as they half turned. He held her hand tight in case she decided smacking Winchester’s face was worth it.
Or he did.
Rosie took a step in their direction and he placed a stilling hand on her. No way was he going to get into a slanging match in front of his team and the press who had a clear view into the tunnel mouth. He forced himself to be calm and kept his voice low.
“It’s been a long time, Tony.”
Tony nodded. “That it has.” He flicked his gaze over Trish. “Hey Trish. Still smokin’, I see.”
Cerberus growled a Genghis-level growl as Trish smiled contemptuously. “Still a douchebag, I see.”
Clearly unrattled by Trish’s insult, Tony’s laugh echoed in the tunnel, enhancing his creepiness but then a figure appeared at the mouth of the tunnel. “Time to rumble,” it announced.
Jake returned his attention to the team. “Let’s go.”
The Demons ran onto the field, followed by Chiswick. Tony stopped by Jake and together they watched their boys line up against each other. Tony’s gaze flicked to the Deluca cheer squad and he smirked.
“What kind of cheerleaders are they?” he scoffed. “You can’t even look up their skirts.”
Jake gave Tony a hard look. “The minor kind.”
It gave Jake enormous satisfaction to see Tony’s jaw tighten. “You always were a morally superior prick,” he spat.
“Better than being just a prick,” Jake said then walked away lest the urge to beat Tony to a pulp in front of a dozen cameras became uncontrollable.
Ella’s stomach looped-the-loop as the second half started. Jake’s speech had been magnificent but had been resoundingly overwritten in her head by Tony’s awful comments in the tunnel.
The stakes had never been clearer.
But she needn’t have worried. It was as if a switch had been flicked. Chiswick looked defeated from the whistle, making simple errors and not capitalizing on a host of opportunities.
Tony ranted. The more he ranted, the worse they played.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Trish said to Ella as they tried to ignore the tantrums of a grown man and watch the play. “I’m going to the police next week to press charges against Tony.”
Ella gaped. She admired Trish’s chutzpah but being outed by a journalist was very different to voluntarily putting herself out there. “I think that’s amazingly brave but are you sure ?”
“I am.” She nodded. “I need to do this.”
Trish’s expression was deadly serious and Ella realized that staying on the sidelines wasn’t an option for Trish anymore. It seemed like this whole Demons experience hadn’t just been cathartic for her and Cam and Jake. It’d been cathartic for Trish, too.
But still…
“This many years down the track it’s going to be hard to prove,” she pointed out. “Even with Jake’s evidence.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Trish shook her head. “If they throw it out of court, it doesn’t matter. I need to say out loud what he did to me. And anything I can do to see that Tony Winchester isn’t allowed to coach minors again, I’m prepared to do.”
Ella squeezed Trish’s hand, in no doubt about her conviction but wanting her to be aware of any potential ripples. “It could get messy. Miranda could be affected.”
Trish shrugged. “You and Cam are still here, aren’t you?”
Ella smiled. Yes, they were. And no doubt better for having all their dirty linen hung out to dry.
A cheer exploded from behind her and Rosie leaped to her feet, yanking Ella with her as Deluca ran in their third touchdown. Trish rose too and they all hugged and cheered. When Ned quickly converted it for two points – his third conversion in a row – the cheer became a roar and Ella grinned as a puce-faced Tony Winchester went apoplectic.
Karma , baby.
Five minutes later, however, the high they’d been riding took a sudden nosedive. A collective gasp rang around the field at a sickening tackle perpetrated on Ned by two of Chiswick’s defensive tackles. The referee blew his whistle as Ned lay crunched in a heap on the ground.
Simon flew to his feet. “They’ve targeted him.”
Jake and Pete were running onto the field, followed by a stretcher bearer and a medic. Ella twisted her head to locate Ned’s parents already making their way down, their faces anxious. She turned in time to see Tony Winchester smiling and patting the shoulder of one of the Chiswick boys who’d been responsible for the dangerous tackle.
A minute later, Ned was on his feet but very groggy, being supported by the medic and Jake. The referee blew his whistle for a penalty, but Ella knew that Tony Winchester’s mission had been accomplished – they’d taken out Deluca’s best kicker.
The medics took Ned into the locker room, followed by his worried parents. “Is he okay?” Ella asked as Jake joined her and play resumed.
Jake gave a stiff nod. “A little concussed. They’ll take him to hospital, probably keep him under observation overnight.”
Tactically it was the worst thing Tony Winchester could have sanctioned, because now the Demons were just plain mad and they played the remaining fifteen minutes like they’d been born with their boots on. With one minute to go, the Demons were in an unassailable position.
Ella and Rosie had tears streaming down their faces as the whistle sounded and Ella laughed as the cameras caught Tony Winchester mid-tantrum, stomping off the field. The Deluca supporters went crazy, running onto the field, Ella included. Often, she hung back waiting for the excited throngs to have their time congratulating the team and the coach before she joined the fray.
Not today.
Ella fought tooth and nail to get to Jake and Cameron in the scrum of well-wishers. Jake had done it. She’d asked him to annihilate Tony Winchester and he had. And with Trish’s second salvo, the man was going to be utterly destroyed.
“Let me through,” Ella called, being jostled from side to side. Cam was further away and swamped – Jake was closer and she had him firmly in her sights. “Let me pass.”
Spotting Ella, he surged through the throng, grinning at her as she flung herself into his arms. “Let me be the first to kiss the coach,” she yelled over the hubbub.
“I hate to disillusion you,” Pete said. “You ain’t the first.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ella pulled Jake’s head down for a thoroughly X-rated smacker.
Pete laughed. “Okay, you’re the first to kiss him like that .”
“So, Jake, does it feel good to beat your old nemesis?”
Ella frowned at the familiar voice yelling to be heard over the top of the noise. Half turning in Jake’s arms, she met John Wilmott’s shrewd gaze. Her lips flattened.
“I thought that was you?” Jake said.
Wilmott laughed. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”
Jake paused for a beat as if he was carefully considering his answer. “It felt un-fucking unbelievable.”
The reporter laughed again. “Can I quote you?”
“I’d be amazed if you didn’t.”
Later that night, Ella lay in Jake’s arms in a post-coital drowse that was better than drugs. “That was exceptionally good,” she murmured, stroking her fingers down his arm.
“Honey,” he said, a smile in his voice, “winning-game sex is my forté.”
Ella laughed. “You’re pretty damn cocky, you know that?”
“But you like it.”
She did. She really did. She hadn’t thought of Pythagoras once the entire time he’d been back in her life.
And what a ride that had been.
Her hand stilled, reveling in the warm, solid muscle beneath her palm. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”
Shifting, Jake rolled up onto his side, his gaze locking with hers. “Thank you . You have no idea how much I owe you.”
Ella’s chest filled with the deepest, happiest, most contented sigh to have ever been sighed. “Lucky for you,” she said, walking her fingers up his arm, “I have a payment plan.”
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured.
Ella smiled as he nuzzled her neck, her eyelids drifting shut. She hadn’t meant that but it wasn’t a bad idea. His tongue flicked across her skin, fritzing out her brain cells and she angled it a little further, enjoying the sensations pebbling her nipples and stirring again between her legs.
But first, business.
“I want to make the Demons a permanent part of Deluca High life,” she said breathily as a wave of goosebumps stippled her skin. “We’re about to get a chunk of money from a Community Foundation to develop the football program and I want you to be the coach. Pete too if he’s interested.”
His lips, pressed to the pulse at the base of her throat, stilled. Raising his head, his eyes met hers. “Well, look at you, Little Miss Football.” His mouth curved into a smug smile. “You’ve certainly changed your tune.”
Ella blushed. She had been rather denigrating about the value of sport in the beginning. “I may not have been football’s best advocate, but I’d be foolish if I couldn’t see the change its spawned in the school. If it keeps the kids coming to Deluca and getting them an education, then I’m all for it.”
Jake blinked. “You’re serious.” He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
Ella rolled on top of him, bracketing her arms either side of his head as she found and held his gaze. “The boys respect and look up to you. And that speech you gave today is all I need to know about your coaching style.”
“I never seriously thought about coaching, before Deluca,” he murmured. “Trish is always banging on about it but I’ve always just dismissed it out of hand.”
“Then you’ve missed your calling.”
“High school football,” he said, his voice low as if he was turning the idea over in his head.
As a teacher, Ella knew when to push and when to let things ruminate. Lowering her mouth, she pressed kisses along the scruff of his jawline and nuzzled his ear.
“Is this persuasion?”
She smiled against his skin. “Incentive.”
“I suppose the pay’s lousy?”
Ella had no doubt Jake could earn serious money coaching for a professional team. She could offer him only peanuts in comparison. But how much damn money did he need?
“Yup. But” – she undulated her body suggestively – “the perks are excellent.”
He chuckled as he grabbed her ass, holding her flush against him. “What about the bar?”
Lifting her head, she looked down into the face of the man she had probably loved most of her life – even if she hadn’t been aware of it.
“That’s not you, Jake. You only bought it because it was something you knew. You’re not your father.”
The silence built around them, her heart thudding hard in her chest while she waited for the verdict. “Well?” she prompted after several long ass beats. She couldn’t take another second of his silence. “What do you say, Coach?”
Still he didn’t speak, just looked into her eyes like he was looking into her soul. Then suddenly, in one swift movement, she was flat on her back, his body pressing hers into the mattress.
“I say” – his mouth hovered over hers – “drop and give me fifty.”
Her laughter was cut off by the hard press of his mouth. He could have whatever he wanted, this man of hers.
Forever and always.