Chapter 46
Mia
‘What’s going on over here?’
Assad, one of Ethan’s teammates, jogs over to where we stand, Ethan staring at me with cool detachment. I want to shake him. I want him to deny it all. I know he isn’t going to.
‘Everything all right?’ Michael runs up behind Assad and offers me a downturned smile. I nod, yes, even though it’s a lie.
‘Shout if you need us,’ he says to me, not his captain. ‘Az, let’s give them a bit of space.’
He grabs the other player by the scruff of the neck and half drags him off the field, over to a bench outside the entrance to the locker room, not watching but aware as he takes off his padded gloves.
Ethan gazes at me, completely impassive. ‘Who told you?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘I guess not.’
His entire body has set like cement, solid and unmoving, but I can see the muscle in his jaw ticking and his top lip twitches into a momentary snarl. Blink and you’d miss it but it was there.
‘I want you to tell me what happened. I want to hear it from you.’
I’m still clinging to the tiniest shred of hope, that things aren’t the way Oliver painted them. But he drops his head, shaking it like I’m asking a stupid question.
‘Mia, don’t—’
‘There was an accident,’ I say, pushing. ‘Over the summer.’
His nostrils flare and he finds my eyes again. I’ve never seen him look so cold.
‘Yes.’
‘Breanna and your brother were hurt.’
‘Bre wasn’t hurt.’
‘She was hurt enough for you to quit Marshall and have your dad pay your way into Hemden.’
He flinches at that and for a moment, I hate him.
‘Yes,’ Ethan says quietly. ‘That’s right.’
‘And what about your brother, is he in a wheelchair?’
I hadn’t noticed before but it’s raining, only a little, but enough to stick Ethan’s hair to his forehead until he swipes it out of the way.
‘Were you drinking?’ I ask, lowering my voice.
‘No!’ Ethan raises his in response. ‘I might be a piece of shit but I’m not a monster. No, I wasn’t drinking. It was an accident.’
‘What about this?’ I take out Oliver’s tape recorder and press play, wincing at the ugly words as they fill the air between us. ‘Was that an accident too?’
He doesn’t say anything and when I start to cry, I don’t waste time trying to stop it because there’s no point.
Let him see. He’s hidden from the consequences of his actions for too long already.
The rain starts to come down heavier, saturating my shirt, my jeans, soaking my hair and stinging my eyes.
‘You don’t understand,’ he says after far too long. ‘It’s not what you think.’
‘I understand enough,’ I tell him, angrily swiping my wet hair from out of my face. ‘I understand we’re right back where we started. I don’t have a clue who you really are, Ethan Taylor, and I don’t want to find out.’