Page 32 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

R hys exhaled a huge breath as he stared at the stands around him.

They were in Pomona Park, which both his club and the Athletics called home on game days, although they played as the home team today.

The pale blue of the Athletics and Manchester Central’s own maroon patterned the stands in a mix of color punctuated by black cloaks, but with the warming air, many had paid their team homage by dressing in their colors.

Rhys waved a hand to the one section of the crowd that was more solidly maroon, eliciting a cheer from those who stared back at him.

This was it. All he had worked for. He had thought that Emmaline would be a distraction on the team — even if it were to no one but himself. But here they were, further than they had gone last year, with Emmaline a key aspect of their roster.

So much rode on this game. The Cup, yes, but also knowing what—or rather, who—waited for him on the other side was like a reward.

He could only hope that no one would stand in his way .

Rhys watched his team take their positions, his heart pounding with anticipation. Emmaline, disguised as Emmett, stood ready at the midfield line. Despite her more diminutive stature compared to the men, she exuded an aura of fierce determination that Rhys couldn’t help but admire.

After Rhys lost the coin toss, which didn’t concern him for he had lost a fair amount in the past and still won the game, the Athletics took first possession of the ball and charged forward.

Their burly forwards muscled past Manchester Central’s defenders, but Rhys’s men held strong, refusing to yield.

The ball flew back and forth across the pitch as the two closely matched teams battled for dominance.

Rhys shouted encouragement and directives as he ran with them, playing his own game, analyzing every move.

When the ball came to him, he sent it across the field to Emmaline, who wove nimbly between the opposing players, her footwork quick and precise.

She passed the ball to Felix, who made a valiant attempt on goal, only to be blocked at the last second by the Athletics’ keeper.

The first half continued in a stalemate, as neither side could gain the upper hand. Rhys tried to breathe deeply as his frustration grew, knowing they needed to score soon.

With a few minutes to go in the half, Victor Reeves, who had been relatively quiet until now, barreled straight for Emmaline, a vicious glint in his eye. Rhys’s heart seized with fear, but Emmaline pivoted gracefully out of harm’s way at the last second, causing Victor to stumble and fall.

The Manchester Central followers erupted into cheers at her display of skill.

Rhys couldn’t suppress his proud grin. That was the Emmaline he knew out there, showing to all watching what she could do, even if she couldn’t tell them who she truly was.

He caught her eye across the field, and they exchanged a brief nod of understanding.

The Athletics countered quickly. Victor received the ball and charged up the field. Rhys tracked his movement, anticipating a pass. But instead, Victor ran straight towards Emmaline. Rhys’s heart seized as Victor slammed into her with unnecessary force, sending her sprawling to the ground.

“Foul!” Rhys bellowed, but the umpire waved play on.

Emmaline pushed herself up, a determined set to her jaw as Reeves had clarified his intentions. Rhys caught her eye and gave her a nod of encouragement, and she rejoined the fray undaunted.

Manchester Central rallied with renewed vigor as the clock ticked down on the first half.

The midfielders worked the ball up the pitch with coordinated passes before Felix sent a beautiful cross towards the goal where Emmaline was ready and waiting.

She leapt into the air, heading the ball with perfect aim, sending it soaring past the keeper’s fingertips and into the back of the net.

Her cap tipped back precariously, threatening to fall to the ground and expose the length of shiny dark hair hiding underneath, but her hidden hatpins held strong, and she managed to catch it before it displayed any sign of her secret.

The maroon-clad supporters jumped to their feet, their raucous cheering drowning out the groans of the Athletics supporters.

Rhys pumped his fist in elation as his team gathered around Emmaline, clapping her on the back in congratulations.

The halftime whistle blew with Manchester Central ahead by one.

As the team jogged off to the bench for the break, Rhys pulled Emmaline aside. “Well done out there, Emmett,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “That was one beauty of a goal.”

“Thanks, Captain,” she replied with a grin, still slightly breathless. “But it wasn’t just me.”

“We’re all playing well,” he agreed, giving his team a quick few words of encouragement before he held up a finger asking them to wait a minute and jogged over to the other bench.

“Harrington!” he called out to the other captain. “A word?”

Oliver Harrington, a good man as far as Rhys knew, nodded and stepped away from his team.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Harrington said. “And I’ll do my best to keep a handle on Reeves.”

“See that you do,” Rhys said. “He’s taken this too far with the threats and trying to take out Williams.”

Harrington placed his hands on his hips as he leaned in toward Rhys.

“I heard you last time, Lockwood, and I told him to leave it, or he won’t have a place on this team any longer.

I’ve overlooked a lot for him to continue on as he has skill, but at the end of the day, this is just a game.

We all have jobs to return to and families to go home to. ”

He extended his hand to Rhys, who shook it firmly, looking over Harrington’s shoulder to see Reeves watching them with narrowed eyes.

Harrington lowered his voice. “His accusations are wild, Rhys. I told him to let them go, that you would never allow a woman to play. He’s delusional, is he not?”

“Of course,” Rhys bluffed. “What a thing to say. If you could keep that to yourself, I wouldn’t want that to get out and start rumors. It would halt Williams’s entire career, and it’s just getting started.”

“Very well,” Harrington said, before Rhys returned to his players in time to hear Colin speaking to Emmaline.

“Are you sure all is well, Emmett?” Colin asked her quietly, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing is offside?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“That cringe on your face doesn’t look fine to me,” Colin said. “Reeves got in a few good whacks on you.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” she said. “I grew up with brothers, remember?” She looked around, finding Rhys had joined them.

“Speaking of…” she said, mo tioning them away from the other players and lowering her voice so they wouldn’t hear her as her eyes flicked nervously toward the stands.

“I noticed that both of those brothers just happened to be here.”

“Do you think they recognize you?” Colin asked.

“I hope not,” she said with a shrug. “But at this point, what are they going to do? They will not stop me in front of this entire stadium of people, for that would only bring ridicule upon our family. I’m sure they will have something to say after the match, but it will be too late by then.”

“You’re sure you can continue?” Rhys asked.

“I would like nothing more,” she said, fierce determination glittering in her eyes.

“Very well,” he said, clapping his hands together to capture the attention of all of their players, who were tired but still ready to put all on the line. “Gentlemen,” he said. “Our goal is to win this, obviously. But Reeves clearly has it out for Williams, so keep an extra eye on him, will you?”

“Of course, Cap,” Jonny said with a salute.

“Out we go, then,” Rhys said, urging them back onto the field. “There’s nothing to hold back for now. Give it everything you can.”

And they most certainly did, although the Athletics matched them equally, pass for pass, shot for shot.

Reeves was still aggressive, but so far hadn’t taken any dirty shots on Emmaline in this half, giving Rhys something to be grateful for.

Perhaps his conversation with the Athletics captain had accomplished its goal.

Colin broke away down the middle, and Rhys cheered him on, his heart in his throat, slapping a hand against his thigh in dismay when the ball went an inch over the goalpost.

It had always been the one weakness in Colin’s otherwise near-perfect play.

Before they could regroup, Harrington himself had the ball, charging down the other way as everyone had been so distracted with the expectation of Colin scoring.

It was only Harrington against the goalkeeper, Hardy, and the Athletics captain sent the ball rocketing over Hardy’s outstretched hands to the top left corner, sending it sailing through the small opening.

Damn it. Tied game.

Rhys held in all of his frustration and instead clapped his hands, urging on his men — and woman – to break the tie.

“One goal and we have this!” he called out. “Let’s go!”

The minutes both sped by and seemed agonizingly slow as Rhys waited for that exhilaration he longed to feel again. They were so close. They couldn’t come this far a second year in a row and not make it.

Especially with so much at stake for Emmaline.

With others closing in on her secret, this would likely be her last chance to play for something so monumental.

He realized that suddenly, somewhere along the way, he had stopped playing for himself and his team but was now playing for her, so that she could experience such a victory before her playing time was over.

Colin took the ball, flying down the field with Emmaline across from him, the two of them against one defender for the Athletics and the keeper, with two of the other Athletics hustling back, trying to catch them.

Just when Rhys thought Colin would take the shot, he passed it across to Emmaline. As her foot connected with the ball, sending it flying forward, a body wrapped around her, tackling her to the ground so viciously that the gasps from those watching were audible.

Rhys was across the field before he even realized he had decided to move. As Reeves stood over Emmaline, an evil grin covering his face, Rhys didn’t even stop to ensure Emmaline was all right before he drew back his fist and sent it flying into Reeves’ nose.

When Reeves doubled over, Rhys pulled his leg back to let his knee finish the job, but Colin grabbed him by the shoulders before he could.

“She needs you,” Colin said, finally cutting through his fury to capture his attention, but he didn’t have to worry, for the rest of the players began shoving one another, and Rhys knew, in the back of his mind, it wasn’t just about Reeves but was all of the restless energy of the desperate desire to win pouring out of them.

It was his job to stop it, but he had only one focus.

Emmaline lay on the ground, turned over on her chest. Her cap was beside her, and her hair draped around her one shoulder to the ground, part of it still tied back. So far, none of the other players had noticed, and Rhys could only hope that the melee had hidden her from any onlookers.

He quickly put her hat back on her head, hoping it would hold, as he touched her shoulder.

“Em,” he settled for, needing to call her by her name, but knowing that her disguise could still be intact. “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

“I’ll live,” she groaned in a way that sent relief coursing through her. “But my shoulder… it might not.”

It was only then that he noticed that her arm was sticking out at an odd angle, and he realized with sickening dread that her shoulder was likely out of its socket. She’d recover, but it would hurt like the devil going back in.

“Lockwood!”

He turned to find Harrington waving him over to where he was conversing with the two referees — one representing each club — and the umpire, the final decision maker.

“We’ve agreed to take a ten-minute break. See to your player.” He eyed Rhys as though he had suddenly realized that Reeves might not have been lying as they had thought he was, “ and we’ll each calm our players before we finish this thing. All right?”

Rhys nodded in relief, running back to Emmaline, who had managed to get to her feet with Colin’s help.

The two of them supported her to the bench on the side of the field across from the stands just as Dr. Lewis, the physician who attended all games to see to any injuries, arrived, slightly out of breath from his run from the stands.

“Let me take a look at that,” he said, placing down his bag and feeling around Emmaline’s shoulder.

Rhys bit his lip, trying to determine a reason to provide the man for just why his player couldn’t be treated at the moment, but at least he was saved from Emmaline being outed in a public setting when the doctor continued, “I’ll have to remove his shirt. Let’s go to the bathhouse.”

Emmaline stared at Rhys with eyes wide with pain and supplication as she followed the physician.

Rhys could do nothing but follow along, just as he saw her brothers make their way down the stands.

He had to figure something out. And he had to do it now.