Page 33 of The Hellion and the Captain (Scandals and Scores #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T hrough her pain, Emmaline cursed her weak, feminine bones.

Would a man’s pop out of the socket like this?

Rhys must have guessed her line of thinking as he sat her down on the bench, even as she realized that she wasn’t going to have the privacy she had wished for as the rest of the team trickled in behind him.

“Anyone would have been injured after such a hit,” he said. “Don’t blame yourself.”

She wouldn’t tell him how much she did. Perhaps it would have been better had she not played at all.

“Shirt off,” Dr. Lewis said flippantly, as Emmaline and Rhys met one another’s gaze.

“Can you do it with it on, Doc?” Rhys asked. “Williams here would rather do this quickly and get on with it. He’s a tough lad.”

“I need to see the shoulder to know what I’m doing. Is this the first time it’s happened?”

Emmaline nodded, and Dr. Lewis said, “This might hurt,” as he waited expectantly. “Here. I’ll help,” he said, leaning in to help Emmaline remove the shirt. Rhys had just leaned forward and opened his mouth, likely to ask the room to be cleared, when a pounding sounded on the door.

“Lockwood, open this door!” came a voice that was all too familiar.

“My brother,” Emmaline whispered, looking up at Rhys pleadingly, asking him to get rid of him.

He squatted down before her. “Do you trust me?” he asked her.

She nodded, surer of her answer than she ever had been of anything else.

“Don’t open that door,” he told Jonny, who was just reaching for the handle.

“But it’s Freddie Whitmore,” Jonny protested. “I’m sure of it. What do you need, Freddie?” he called out before Rhys could shush him, and Emmaline winced.

“I need to see my sister!” he roared, while the players all looked around in confusion.

“His sister?” Felix said. “What’s he talking about? There are no women in here, Fred! Rhys, can we open the door and let him come see for himself? He’s a good sort.”

“No,” Rhys commanded. “Lock the door and gather round close.”

They all looked at him as though he had grown a second head, but they were also used to following their captain, no matter what, and did as he asked, coming to sit around Rhys and Emmaline, whose hair was stuffed haphazardly in her cap as she cradled her left arm.

“I’m going to tell you something, and you’re going to have questions, but we don’t have time to answer them all now. But I am trusting you more than I ever have anyone else — well, nearly anyone,” he said, exchanging a glance with Emmaline before returning to the players before him .

“Emmett here joined the team this year, yes?”

“‘Course,” Tommy said as they nodded.

“Emmett…” he took a breath. “Emmett is not who he says he is.”

“Then who is he?” Tommy asked, stepping forward, as Emmaline used her right hand to slowly slide her spectacles from her nose and then pull her cap off, allowing her dark hair to cascade in waves around her shoulders.

They all stared at her, unspeaking.

Unsurprisingly, Tommy was the first to find his voice. “What the fuck, Emmaline?”

“Tommy, you’re in front of a lady!” Hardy chastised.

“Sure, but?—”

Emmaline smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But focus on winning the game. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

Dr. Lewis stepped forward. “Lady or not, I need to set that arm,” he said, pushing his spectacles up his nose.

“To the other side of the room,” Rhys said, waving the players away. They all turned away as Dr. Lewis removed just one half of Emmaline’s shirt, lifting the arm gently out of the sleeve. Emmaline wished she could hear what the players were saying, but she would trust that Rhys would handle it.

“It’s clean but it will still hurt,” Dr. Lewis said before sending a small smile her way. “It actually helps me that you’re a woman.”

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Because, in my experience,” he said, flexing her arm at the elbow, placing one arm on the top of her shoulder, the other on her upper arm as he externally rotated her arm and lifted it forward, “women handle pain much better than men.”

As he finished speaking, he moved his hands swiftly and expertly, rotating the arm internally and allowing the bone to slip back into place, causing pain like fire as though it was being ripped apart to shoot up Emmaline’s arm, and she cried out, capturing the attention of the men across the room.

But just as quickly as it had hurt, the pain subsided, leaving only dull throbbing in its wake.

“All done,” the doctor said. “Now, as for this little secret,” he straightened. “I maintain my patient’s confidentiality. But I do wish you the best of luck. You’re going to need it.”

Emmaline replaced her shirt, moving her arm a few times. It still hurt, but she didn’t need her arm to play football. She put her shirt back on, lifted her hair best she could with one arm, and replaced her cap on her head.

“Are you all right?” Rhys said, coming over and placing a hand on her good shoulder, looking her deeply in the eyes. “When you cried out?—”

“I’m fine, good as new,” she lied. “Now, I’m sure our time is up. Let’s get back out there.”

“Emmaline, you cannot play,” he said incredulously. “You’re injured. Doc?” he said, looking to Dr. Lewis, hoping that he would back him up.

“If you re-injure the shoulder, it will be painful and could extend the recovery time,” he said. “But I could bind it so that you can wear it close to your chest. However, running will jar it and cause pain.”

“I can handle pain, as long as I do not do any long-term damage.” She looked to Rhys. “How much time is left in the game?”

“About ten minutes.”

“Not long at all,” she said stubbornly.

The doctor looked uneasy. “I would prefer you didn’t play,” he said.

“Would you recommend the same to a man?” she challenged, and when he hesitated, she had her answer.

“No,” he finally said softly.

“If I do not play, we are a player short, are we not?” she asked Rhys.

“Well, yes, unless they sent Reeves out of the game. I didn’t see in time. But it doesn’t matter?—”

“I will play,” she said firmly. “My feet work just fine. That is…” she swallowed hard, “if you would all still play with me, now that you know the truth.”

There was a long pause through the room, and Emmaline realized with a sinking heart that she had asked too much. That these men were never going to agree to sharing the pitch with a woman.

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to brush away the new pain, pain that hurt her heart. “I?—”

But then Tommy stepped forward. “I would be honored,” he said. “We shared the pitch before, and you proved yourself. I would like to play with you as your true self.”

“Truly?” she asked, her voice almost breaking, but she refused to cry — not here, not now.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, before Felix followed Tommy.

“As would I.”

“Me too,” said Hardy, as one by one they all agreed.

“Thank you,” she said huskily. “There are only two problems — Reeves and my brothers.”

“Reeves is kicked out of the game,” Colin confirmed. “As for your brothers, we’ll get rid of them.”

“How?” she asked.

“If we all tell them there is no woman here, they will have no choice but to believe us,” he said confidently. “Give us a few minutes to move them away from here and then come out yourself. We have a game to win.”

Tommy looked at Emmaline. “Trust me, I have so many questions – but we’ll do this first.”

Emmaline could only nod, for she was afraid that if she said anything, she might be so overcome that the tears threatening behind her eyes might spill out and down her cheeks.

She walked closer to the door so that she could hear the conversation as the other players and the physician left the bathhouse, only Rhys staying with her.

He watched her closely, and while she knew he was filled with concern, she loved that he didn’t tell her what to do but instead allowed her to make this decision for herself.

“Will you help me put the hair pins back in?” she asked Rhys. “I cannot lift my arm well enough to do so.”

He collected the pins that were already falling out of her hair and then stared at them, so small in his large hands, as though they were foreign objects, which they probably were to him.

She chuckled softly before she told him what to do, and he nodded, doing his best, apologizing when he accidentally poked her too hard.

“I know that was my sister on the field,” Freddie said from the other side of the door. “The way she runs, the way she plays. Then when her hat came off?—”

“Williams will be sore when he’s heard you’ve mistaken him for a woman,” Tommy responded. “He had his shoulder looked at now by the doc, and I can tell you that’s a man sitting in there. Now, get back to the stands or we’ll have to talk to the FA president about tampering.”

“What?” Freddie said in shock, and Emmaline winced. Not much angered her brother, but when he did get riled up, watch out.

“No offence, Fred, but you play for another team.”

“One you beat. With my sister on the field. I thought I recognized her then, and now?—”

“One minute!” came a call from beyond the door, and Emmaline’s heart sped up. If they didn’t get rid of Freddie now? —

“All right, all right, I’m going, but I’ll be back, Ward, I promise you that.”

“I’ll hold you to it!” Tommy called back jovially before he opened the door. “It’s clear now, but you better make things up with your brother for me after this, Em.”

“I will,” she promised, pulling her cap low over her head. “Let’s do this.”