Page 153 of The Penalty

“Alright, mate. I see what you’re doing.” I smirked, picking up the ball. “You won’t get it by me this time.”

I tossed it back to him and stood on the line.

Zach kicked the ball hard. Jesus, what a leg. The sting from the ball hitting my hand burned halfway up my arm.

“Lucky stop,” he commented. “Ready for more?”

We practiced for the next twenty minutes. I only play against West London twice a season but I’ve studied how Zach takes his penalties. I know which side of the net he prefers, if he kicks high or low, and how often he drills it down the middle. He doesn’t give away much with his stance but he does feint in the run-up to his kicks.

I’ve seen this tactic many times. Unfortunately, I’ve been deceived by it more often than I care to admit.

His last attempt hit the crossbar, sending the ball over the net.

“Guess that means I won this round,” I joked.

Zach laughed, placing his hands on his hips. “Fair enough, Maddox. Hope this little session got your mind back in the game.”

Stunned by his observation, I followed him to the training facility. We’d almost made it to the changing room when he broke the silence.

“I realize we aren’t proper friends or anything, but is everything alright? Off the pitch I mean. You’ve not been yourself.”

I shrugged, not willing to pour my guts out to Zach Donovan. Tensions between us have certainly eased since the day I sucker-punched him during a match. Doesn’t mean I’m sharing my life story with him.

“Can’t complain,” I answered in a brisk tone. “Just the usual stuff.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“After I crashed my car into the store window, I thought my career was over. The media was hounding me. I was taken out of the starting eleven. All the distractions put me in a tailspin.” He stopped walking and faced me. “One of the things that got me through it was my bond with my teammates. None of the other bullshit mattered. And do you know where I got that mentality from?” His hand rested on my shoulder. “You. You’re a living legend, mate. And I don’t say that lightly. All us lads are honored to represent England with you. We all have your back, on the pitch and off.”

I remained frozen in place long after Zach disappeared into the changing room.

Victoria

Having this conversation with my dad while sitting at home in pajamas wasn’t quite how I pictured it.

I tossed our dinner plans out the window after yesterday’s call with Xavier. I haven’t been able to think straight since. All I saw was the tortured look in his eyes before the screen went black.

Bringing up the unpleasantness of Jordan’s insinuations was the last thing I wanted to do. But I needed answers. I needed clarity. I needed to close this chapter of my life.

A soft knock sounded at my door. I shuffled over, numb to any emotion that tried to force its way into my reality. I’ve excelled at suppressing how I really felt for so long it was like second nature.

When I opened the door and saw my father, the dam broke.

All my pent-up emotion from the last twenty-four hours —hell, my entire existence— exploded. I didn’t fight the tidal wave; I let it crash over me.

Gentle hands guided me to the couch. I sank into the cushions, drowning in anger, heartache, guilt, sadness, and hurt. My eyes burned with liquid fire. The tears I shed didn’t play favorites. I cried for my sister, my family, and Xavier.

My dad stayed quiet, stroking my hair. I felt so small sitting with him, like I was still a little girl running to the unconditional comfort only a parent could provide. The fact that our relationship has been severed all these years made me feel even worse.

So much wasted time. And for what?

Focus. I have to focus.

Once the tears dried up and I could breathe without sniffling, my dad grabbed us some water from the kitchen. On his way back to the couch, he paused in front of the coffee table and picked up a small, framed photo.

“Where did you get this?” he asked quietly, turning the frame so I could see the picture of Charlotte and I.

“I found it when I was at the storage unit a few months ago.”

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