Page 50 of Clean Point

‘I was just … I’m sorry. I jumped the gun a bit on that one,’ I apologized, knowing that wasn’t going to quite cut it for her.

‘Maybe next time wait for me to finish my story before you speed off and start punching people?’

‘I thought he helped Matteo …’

She flinched at the mention of his name, then shook her head, a heavy exhale leaving her as she tried to restrain herself from beating me up in revenge. ‘Do you honestly think I’d be working with Jon if I thought he would pull that shit?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘So, as I said, how about you listen to me next time instead of going all macho man on the person who holds both our careers in his hands?’

I took a moment, guilt weighing on my shoulders. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’

She could hardly stand to look at me, her gaze directed out the window, her jaw set firmly. I couldn’t take it. ‘You scared me, Nico. I didn’t know what you were going to do.’

‘I didn’t expect … I never thought for a second that somebody would hurt you like that, Scottie. I … I had to do something. Even if it was dumb.’

‘I was scared you didn’t believe me.’ Her words just about broke me.

‘Of course I believe you.’ My gut churned further. The hurt held in her words, her tone like a dagger that kept twisting. Her eyes caught mine, the deep blue pools captivating, holding me hostage.

Her mouth opened, as if to speak, before she hesitated, losing her nerve. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to her, my hands finding hers, and finally I held her attention long enough to see the fear still there.

‘I believe you,’ I repeated, my tone firm, words clear. ‘I trust you, Scottie. What he did to you …’ I trailed off, my own eyes closing. How he took everything from her. I couldn’t bear thinking about it.

‘It hurt,’ she said. ‘It took everything to survive.’ Her fingertips pressed into mine, hands squeezing with reassurance. ‘But I survived.’

Something in my chest squeezed tightly at her words. I’d known she was brave – that was hard to miss – but the depth of her endurance still shook me to my core.

My next question hesitated on my tongue, lingering for a moment as I tried to find the right words, the correct way to say it. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’ I hadn’t understood. ‘You could destroy his entire world.’

She took a deep breath in as if she was almost sick of the question. As if she’s spent the last two years justifying her reasoning to herself over and over. ‘Do you think they would believe me? Believe that the legend, tennis God Matteo Rossi would lower himself to doping his daughter without her knowledge? I’d be labelled another woman crying wolf, ignored and tarred as a cheat, anyway.’ Shame ate away at me as I realized she was right. Some might believe her, but with the influence that Matteo still had over tennis it would take a lot more than only her words to convince people.

She swallowed before continuing. ‘I took the only revenge I could. He was so obsessed with legacy, and I was it. I didn’t see it until I left, how poisonous his love was. I wasn’t a person, I was a tool to further his name, another trophy on his goddam mantle. My life didn’t exist outside the tennis court, my body fodder for the machine. It took me a long time to see that, to rebalance my mind on what is a healthy give and take.’

Scottie shook her head before continuing, ‘But I had enough. I couldn’t let him destroy me. If I was a possession he thought he owned, then I needed to make sure he couldn’t use me, that he wouldn’t want me anymore. I blew everything up. I told the ITIA. I told the world. I called the press and leaked the story myself. Then, I did whatever I wanted for years. I actually saw the cities I travelled to like a tourist, I partied and had fun, and I slept with whoever I wanted. I threw his name away and used my own. I cleansed my life of him. Hell, I wanted the words tattooed on my skin.’ She shook her head, looking up for a moment, a small proud smile on her lips. ‘He was a poison and a stain, but I finally feel clean of the mark he left.’

I fought the urge to lean over, close the gap and wrap my arms around her, hold her there, but I knew that wasn’t what she needed. She didn’t need comforting or somebody to lean on. She was strong enough on her own. A survivor.

‘So why come back?’ I asked, curious. ‘If you were so intent on not continuing his legacy?’

‘Jon convinced me that with you, I could keep twisting the knife. That making a comeback with the man that finished his career would be too big an insult to his legacy to claim. And I missed the sport. He might have almost destroyed me in the process, but tennis was my life. And I was good. I wanted to prove it to everyone that while Scottie Rossi was dead and buried, Scottie Sinclair was back for revenge.’

I was almost at a loss for words for how proud I was of her. She’d faced hell and come back stronger. I couldn’t blame her for earlier, when she told me she was quitting. It must’ve been too much for her. You can only take the blame for a crime you didn’t commit for so long before it breaks you.

‘Scottie,’ I said, staring deep into her eyes. Begging her soul to feel what words I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud. I need you here. ‘Please, don’t leave.’

She stared at me with a sad smile. The room falling silent.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Three breaths.

Then she finally put me out of my misery. ‘I’ll stay.’

All the air returned to my lungs. ‘And … you still want to work together?’

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