Page 94 of Clean Point

For the first time today, she truly looked hopeful. ‘If I keep my head, don’t play too hard and lose my own steam, I think I can do it.’

I couldn’t help but reach out, my fingers meeting her chin to pull her gaze to mine. It felt like I would never get sick of the way her face changed when she looked at me, the softness there.

‘Scottie Sinclar in the semifinals.’ I smiled, loving the way the words sounded. ‘And then the finals.’

She let out a single laugh. ‘Who would’ve thought I’d have any chance?’

But I didn’t let go of her gaze, keeping my eyes on hers as I pressed, ‘I would’ve.’

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, biting to smother what surely would’ve been a wide, confident smile from breaking out. An announcement called out, telling everyone that the players were expected out on court shortly. Scottie shifted in place, this time with impatience to get started. Her hands ran down her ELITE crop top, smoothing out any wrinkles.

‘I can do this,’ she said to herself on an inhale, taking a deep calming breath. I watched as her chest rose, feeling her confidence, her fight. She had this.

My girl had this.

‘I always believed that you could.’ My hand reached out to her, interlacing our fingers and squeezing. It was more than we’d ever done openly, but I couldn’t help the overwhelming need to touch her, my own anticipation at watching her play beginning to rise. A goodbye and good luck was on the edge of my tongue.

‘Scottie, can I pull you in for a quick photo?’ Sarah, our photographer from the training camp, appeared from a crowd, camera in hand. She had been around us during our time here, usually taking photos during matches or after, always making sure we were still wearing the ELITE brand.

Scottie frowned slightly, her hand dropping from mine as her eyebrows pressed together. ‘Not right now. I’m just about to go out.’

Sarah turned to look at the clock, calculating that we still had some time before she had to go out. ‘Three seconds, that’s all,’ she pushed.

Scottie’s face twisted with indecision, understandably not happy that Sarah had decided now of all the moments to request a photo. But I knew she hated arguing because of our contract with ELITE.

‘Fine,’ she relented, and Sarah turned to lead her away. I picked up her racket bag, keeping by her side as Sarah pushed through the other players and coaches getting ready for their matches. There was no way I was leaving her alone with Sarah.

Scottie’s gaze constantly flickered back over her shoulder as Sarah led us across the room, as if to keep an eye on the time and not be late to her game. The crowd finally broke, and my stomach dropped as I realized who was waiting for us.

If she knew what she was doing, Sarah’s voice gave nothing away as she instructed casually. ‘Okay, if I can get you over here beside your dad, we can get this done.’

Scottie’s attention turned back, and she stopped dead in her tracks beside me. My hand formed a fist on instinct, anger riling up inside of me at the sight of her father, dressed casually in a button up and shorts, standing beside the Wimbledon logo, looking photo op ready.

‘Why is he here?’ My voice was deep and low as I looked at Sarah, confusion clear in her face. She didn’t even bother to answer my question as she shook her head.

‘Just a quick photo. That’s all we need.’

‘Good to see you, Scottie.’ He looked as slimy as ever, a snakish grin on his face as he peered across at her. I wanted to take her away. Get her away from him.

‘What do you want?’ Scottie’s voice was full of frustration, her eyes fixed on Matteo. She turned to Sarah. ‘What is this? Why is he here?’

‘ELITE asked for a photo of the two of you,’ Sarah said half-heartedly, her attention on her camera settings. Clearly, she either had no idea what she was doing, or she didn’t care. Was this revenge for the beach?

Matteo’s shoulders relaxed, his demeanour softening from smug to somewhat fatherly. ‘Come on. Take the photo. For old times’ sake,’ he pressed, raising a hand and waving to her only. To anyone looking onto the scene, they’d see a legend reuniting with his daughter. They wouldn’t know how dangerous this all was.

My hand found hers, pulling at her. ‘Scottie, you don’t have to do this,’ I urged, desperate to make this stop somehow. I knew whatever this was, it wasn’t good. The fact he was at Wimbledon was enough to set me on edge, but here, in this room, taking this photo? And where was Jon to stop it all?

I could see her fear and confusion in her expression as she silently looked back at the clock, the pressure folding in on her, the time ticking down until she was due on the court.

‘Nico, let’s get you in there, too,’ Sarah insisted, her tone beginning to sound snipped. She moved, taking up a place in front of Matteo, camera raised and primed, as she ushered us over.

I shook my head, insistent on not cooperating. Fuck ELITE. Fuck whatever this was. ‘No, we aren’t doing this.’

‘Really? Now you’re making a big scene,’ Matteo said so plainly, he almost sounded like a reasonable person. I had to bite down my rage, keeping the monster contained. A scene would give him what he wanted. He pushed an eyebrow up, his palms out wide. ‘People do talk, you know?’

There was a lull, like the world had gone on pause. Scottie took a moment, looking around us. I could see it too, the eyes of people looking our way, their attention pulled by our arguing. We were drawing too much attention, and it was beginning to make her feel nervous. He was using everything to his advantage to twist her into this. I turned to her, readying myself to get her out of here, but instead, I watched her shoulders pull back, her spine straightening.

‘Let’s get it over with,’ she muttered, each word sounding painful. She took a few short steps over, standing on the opposite side of the logo. I followed, nudging her over further to the right so I was between her and Matteo, as if my body was a wall to protect her. I just wanted her as far from him as possible.

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