Page 46 of Game Point
‘I’m fine. I feel fine. I wasn’t hurt,’ she tried to convince me. But as she took a deep breath, I saw the wince, saw the flash of dull pain in her eyes.
‘They can postpone for an hour. Give you time to get seen.’
‘Oliver.’ She ripped her arm from my light touch, and immediately I knew I’d lost any control I thought I had on the situation, any sway I had with her. ‘I swear to God. I’m going out there and you cannot stop me. I need to do this.’
My heart fell into my stomach. ‘Dylan, you can’t be serious.’
This was dumb. Beyond stupidity. She could get herself more hurt. Seriously, dangerously injured. There was no way she could do this.
‘I’m deadly fucking serious.’ She pulled out her racket, inspecting the grip, her fingers running across the strings. She didn’t look at me as she continued. ‘I said I’m okay, so I’m okay. I said I can play, so let’s fucking play.’
I inhaled through my nose, a deep breath to calm the frustration that had been lighting my body up like wildfire. Being as soft as I could, I reached out a hand to where hers gripped the racket. Her grip tightened under mine and I could feel her shaking.
‘This isn’t worth it, Dylan.’ My body grew closer to hers, as if I was hoping that a closer proximity to her orbit, an orbit I’d been avoiding getting trapped in, would help to convince her, calm her, help her think clearly through the adrenaline that was guiding her decisions. Then, I took a leap. ‘It’s a piece of silverware. It’s nothing. Not compared to what you are risking.’
But how do you convince someone to look after themselves when all they’ve been taught is to put their soul, mind and body on the line for the simple thrill of the win? How do I tell her she’s worth more than this?
‘A piece of silverware?’ she whispered, her voice razor sharp, eyes cold. ‘And you’ve been askingmeif I’m being serious?’
My heart stopped in my chest. I’d always known Dylan had a ruthless side, it was obvious watching her play. But to actually stare her down, to see it facing you, was completely different. And that was the Dylan that had appeared in front of me.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Brooke yelled angrily. Instantly, her hand ripped from mine, her attention torn away before I could respond to her.
‘I slept in,’ she answered, ‘I’m fine.’
Those two words again.I knew they’d haunt my nightmares after today.
Brooke’s eyes only narrowed, assessing her player. ‘Did you cut your face? Did you fall out of bed? You’re a complete mess!’
‘I’ll change,’ Dylan replied dryly.
Brooke continued, ‘What happened to you? This is beyond unprofessional.’
I cut Dylan off before she had a chance to respond. Before she could hide how serious this could be. ‘She was in a crash.’
‘A crash?’ Brooke’s gaze shifted between us. ‘Like a car crash?’
Dylan looked at me, that simmering rage reappearing. I realized any chance of her listening to me was long gone. Her attention turned back to Brooke. ‘I walked here. I can play.’
‘You’re sure?’ Brooke asked.
I interrupted again, growing impossibly desperate. ‘She needs to go to the emergency room.’
Dylan didn’t even look at me. ‘I need to warm up.’
Brooke looked between us. I could see her calculating the situation, analysing. I prayed that Brooke would side with me, that she would see how unsafe this was.
But then she shrugged. ‘If you think you can play, then fine by me. Get changed, then we can warm up.’
Without looking at me again, she left the changing room. Turning, I found Dylan unpacking her bag.
‘Don’t do this, Dylan.’ I was beyond sense, willing to get down on my knees begging her to let me help her instead. ‘I know you’re determined. Don’t think of this one final, please, think of your career. If you go out now, you could hurt yourself.’
She pulled some clothes out of her bag, my hand reaching to grasp her, maybe my final shot at getting her attention. She pulled away at my touch, wincing as she breathed deeply. I tracked the motion, the panic renewing.
‘If you are hurt, and you’re trying to hide it, you could be sabotaging your match. Maybe Brooke doesn’t careenough to stop you. But I can see it in your eyes, you are in pain, and you can’t admit it.’
‘Leave me alone, Oliver.’ She looked over at me, a stony seriousness giving nothing away. ‘I need to change.’
