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Carter joined his teammates lining up to shake Ted’s hand.

The Paralympian had blown Carter’s mind, speaking about the strength and power of his own.

Carter could’ve listened to him all night, and the clock above the door said they almost had.

After hearing Ted’s story, the questions had flowed as everyone had wanted to know more.

The line inched forwards and Carter was overcome with the urge to tell Ted that he was with Indy.

He knew they were friends; she’d been going to give him a lift into the expo and she’d been in here helping him set up, plus Carter knew her well enough now to notice when she was comfortable around someone.

Was it strange that he wanted her friends to like him? He’d never cared before.

‘Great talk tonight, mate,’ Carter said, grasping Ted’s hand in a firm shake when it was his turn. ‘Really got me thinking.’

The other man smiled. ‘Good to hear.’ His brow kinked. ‘Are you one of the guys who covered for me at the expo?’

‘Yeah, Carter Hendrix. Our captain Isaac Stringer and assistant coach Ray O’Neill were there as well.’

‘Well, thanks, man. I hate letting the kids down, so I really appreciate you guys jumping in.’

‘Any time. This town’s pretty special.’

‘It sure is.’ Ted’s voice caught on a cough and Carter was nudged forwards by the guy behind him.

Without the cloud cover, the night air was a fraction cooler and Carter shoved his hands into his pockets.

Attempting to maintain his casualness, he followed the group in front of him to the opening in the verandah that led to the carpark.

But instead of heading up to the guest rooms, he dropped down the slope between the buildings and into the night.

With the path to Indy’s cabin inked in his mind, it wasn’t long before he was taking the steps two at a time and slipping through the door.

It was quiet, the television on but muted.

The only other light came from the lamp near the couch, giving the room a softness.

What would this place look like in the daylight?

He’d only ever been inside at night. He smiled at Indy, curled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Her face was as it had been when she was sunning herself on the boulder by the creek—relaxed.

One hand was tucked under her cheek, as he’d always imagined her sleeping.

The other held a throw pillow to her chest similar to the one beneath her head.

She was wearing an oversized black T-shirt with a band name on the front, maybe Metallica?

The pillow was in the way. The hem was high on her thigh, showing off the skin that he knew felt as smooth as it looked.

Her breathing was deep and she looked way too peaceful to wake.

He grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch.

Last night it’d covered their naked bodies, but tonight he draped it over Indy’s sleeping form, tucking the soft material around her.

She muttered something incoherent, a faint hum of her voice as she snuggled deeper into the pillow.

It was the cutest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

Squatting beside the couch, careful not to disturb the unfinished puzzle on the coffee table behind him, he reached out and brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen across her cheek. A light sigh escaped her.

He leant forwards to press a kiss to her forehead. ‘Goodnight, my blue-eyed beauty.’

Then he stood to walk to the door.

‘Night, Carter.’

He looked at her face. It was still as peaceful as it was before.

Did he imagine it? Her voice had been so soft, but he’d recognise it anywhere, at any volume.

Her breathing deepened. Warmth spread through him, and he resisted the urge to climb onto the couch behind her and cradle her close to him so sleep could take them both.

He’d already been warned that there’d be an early cardio session and he couldn’t bank on it not being ridiculously early.

If he wasn’t in his bed when the knock came on the door, too many questions would be asked, and he couldn’t do that to Indy.

Finding the television remote, he hit the power button then went to the door, pausing at the floor lamp.

He switched it off, plunging the cabin into darkness.

Instantly, he flicked it back on. I hate the dark .

It was as if she’d whispered it in his ear the way she had back in the old shearing shed.

The same protective beast rose in his chest at the mere thought of anyone harming her.

Any time his mind went there, it was Beau’s face on the perpetrator’s head.

Carter ground his teeth and forced himself to walk to the door.

She was safe, she was here, and Beau didn’t know—and would never know—the importance she held for him. He was too much of a wild card.

With a final glance at the woman he was falling head over heels for, he slipped out the door and into the night.

‘Keep those arms above your heads, men!’

Every single muscle from Carter’s hands through to his shoulders screamed in a mixture of protest and agony as he raised the twenty-litre jerrycan full of sloshing water higher above his head. He held his squat.

‘Go!’

His upper body begged his legs to carry him as quickly as they could across the width of the field to where he knew relief was coming. The white line was getting closer. He drew in front of the guy on his left, desperation carrying him. Finally, he made it.

‘And again! Bring it home with a sprint!’

Carter wanted to refuse. Wanted to drop the can, to follow it to the ground and have a tantrum, the kind where the kid just lay face down without moving because the idea of flailing arms and legs was too exhausting.

Grunts and groans rang out along the line, which had otherwise been silent apart from the panting of each participant.

None of them quit. Carter’s arms shook as he turned.

The muscles in his legs bunched and, summoning a last burst of energy from somewhere in the abyss, he launched into a sprint.

He was just aware of the two guys on either side of him giving chase.

Despite the speed he managed, it was the single longest run of the arduous morning. He crossed the line but didn’t dare drop his arms. He took in the strained faces of every man that ran over the line.

The whistle blew, two short spurts signalling the end.

He was too exhausted to cheer and his joints shifted painfully as he lowered the jerrycan to the ground and collapsed on the grass beside it.

Carter’s stomach sucked in under his ribs and blew out like a balloon with each breath.

He star-fished, pulling up his toes to stretch out his calves to stop them from cramping, and rolling his shoulders and arms. They’d been going since four, when the sun was barely touching the skyline, and it’d been brutal.

This was the preseason camps of the past: intense days, gruelling exercises and manipulative activities designed to break them down as individuals and re-form them as a team. He welcomed it.

‘Make sure you’re stretching, gentlemen,’ Jonathan said as he stepped amongst them, indicating to the trainers which guys were suffering the most. Distant retching hit Carter’s ears and his stomach recoiled. He focused on each limb and muscle.

‘As long as we can stay on the ground and stretch,’ Diego’s voice carried from somewhere to Carter’s right. ‘If I tried to stand, I reckon I’d fall straight back down.’

There was a murmuring of agreement, Carter’s included.

‘Stay where you are if you must, but listen up,’ Jonathan said. ‘For the next three days, we’ll be working intensely on defence. Everyone. With a solid and strong defence as our foundation, we can build our attacking game. We’re starting with our tackles.’

Someone groaned loudly from behind Carter, drawing the eyes of the training staff. Maybe Shaun Burgess? Ballsy from a rookie.

‘How are we going to spend the day tackling when we’re already bushed?’

Definitely Burgess. Idiot.

‘Good!’ Jonathan boomed. ‘It’s easy to make tackles and chase down intercepts in the first ten or when you’re fresh off the bench. It’s the team who can play like that right up to the eightieth minute that wins games.’

‘And grand finals,’ Isaac added from next to Carter.

With his breathing back under control, Carter gritted his teeth and swung himself up to a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his knees.

‘Aaron was an eighty-minute man.’

Carter briefly closed his eyes. Beau was seriously never going to let it go.

‘That’s enough! This is your team, and it’s up to you men who are here to make this season.

’ Jonathan stared icily around the group.

‘After breakfast, we will be joined on the field by professional wrestlers Derek Garcia and JJ Parker, as well as MMA fighter Will Colsen. It’s an opportunity to better yourselves as players, athletes and teammates.

If you can’t do that, pack your bags. Because if I hear another word about someone who’s no longer a Scorpion, I promise you will find yourself looking at the same fate.

We as a training staff have had enough. Consider this your only warning. ’

Carter kept his head down, but he felt the glares from his teammates burning holes in the back of his neck.

‘One lap around the field, walking or a slow jog, then off to breakfast,’ Ray called out.

He felt the stirring of men climbing to their feet around him. Carter was taking a deep breath, ready to join them, when Isaac stood in front of him, offering a hand. Carter gripped it and the captain helped him to his feet.

‘Brush it off and keep going.’

Carter gave him a nod as their hands dropped and Isaac headed off for his lap. Damn, that felt good. Was it possible that others would look to the player that deserved the leadership of the group over Beau, who didn’t?

‘Carter?’ Jonathan called. ‘A word.’

Carter’s fingers curled into fists by his side. He wanted to say no and join his team. But he dutifully followed the head coach.

‘Look, son, I thought this was getting better but after hearing all that this morning, I’m worried—for the team and how it could possibly carry into the new season, but also for you. I want you to have a fair run, but I don’t think you’re going to get it here.’

‘There has been a shift. Isaac’s one of them.’

‘I’m not sure that’s enough. Look, I can talk to your manager Tom, and Bill over at the Vikings—’

‘No.’ Carter cut him off. ‘I appreciate the out, but I’m not taking it. This is my team. If I walk away, it’s saying I did something wrong, and I didn’t. I don’t need any favours or special treatment. I can handle it.’

Jonathan folded his arms across his chest, but Carter could still see the concern. ‘I’m not saying that you can’t, just you shouldn’t have to. This isn’t a healthy team environment.’

‘Yeah, and you pulling me aside like this isn’t helping.

’ He watched his teammates, all wearing the Scorpion colours.

Was he being selfish by staying on the team?

This was his team, dammit. He was happy being a one-club man.

‘I haven’t done anything wrong. Why should I be the one that has to leave? ’

Jonathan sighed. ‘You’re one hell of a halfback , Carter. I don’t want to lose you from the team, but I’ve got a lot more men than just you to think of.’

‘You can’t kick me out, Jonathan. I haven’t breached my contract in any way.’

‘Calm down,’ he said, clasping Carter’s shoulder. ‘I’m not doing anything. Hopefully my warning today will be enough to knock this on the head. Let’s give it to the end of camp and have another talk if things haven’t improved.’

Carter released his breath and looked at his teammates walking in groups, laughing and talking. Where did he belong? Once upon a time, he could’ve confidently approached any cluster and known he’d be accepted into the fun. He swallowed hard. It wasn’t like that anymore.

‘I’ve got a job to do in this team and I’ll do it until the team decide they don’t want me anymore. If that’s how they still feel at the end of camp, I’ll talk to Tom myself.’