Page 58 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)
Chapter Twenty-Nine
SINNETT
I can’t fucking focus. Not on the player in front of me, the ball in my hands, the crowd of fans in the grandstand or the damn ground beneath me when my body slams against it.
My mind is stuck on jade eyes. The same eyes that held unshed tears, and so much fucking hurt, that it made it hard to breathe.
Walking away from her was the stupidest thing I had ever done. Up until that moment, it had been sleeping with Zoe. Now it’s letting Tatum quit her job in order to protect me.
Me . She wanted to protect me.
I should’ve been the one protecting her, not the other way around.
Phil had no right to thrust an ultimatum on me in that moment. Not when I was falling apart at the seams, desperately trying to hold on to my resolve without letting Tatum slip through my fingers. I was at a loss for words, which allowed Tatum to swoop in and make a decision for me.
I froze in that moment. The thought of losing Tatum hurt, but so did the prospect of ruining everything I had built at the club. I have put my heart and soul into achieving this dream, so when Phil dangled the possibility of losing it all in front of my face, I froze like a fucking coward.
It felt like an impossible decision at the time—one I couldn’t make on the spot.
I hate myself for making Tatum feel like she had to do this for me.
That she isn’t as important to me as rugby.
It couldn’t be further from the fucking truth.
Tatum has been a light in my life, brightening the darkest parts of me and revealing aspects of myself I hadn’t seen in a long time.
She taught me how to put myself first—something I had never done in the past. I was too busy doing what my father wanted of me, when I should’ve been making decisions for myself based on what I wanted.
And now she’s gone.
I let her walk away.
Fuck .
I storm into the sheds, fists clenched at my sides and heart jackhammering in my chest. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, followed by the kind of anger that no one wants to be in the firing line of.
It festers beneath my skin—hot and ready to fucking explode.
The 10-22 loss to the Sharks isn’t helping either.
If anything, it’s adding fuel to the rapidly growing fire.
“ Fuck !” I shove my hands through my hair, ignoring the sweat and blades of grass clinging to my skin. “This is such bullshit.”
Khai appears behind me, his presence doing little to ease the storm brewing inside of my chest. He doesn’t touch me; he knows better than to do so when I’m in this state.
It’s not the first time—having dealt with many of my meltdowns all through high school and university—and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
“Sin, it’s okay.” His voice is calm, not wanting to poke the bear. “You played a good game, but it just wasn’t our night.”
“I played like fucking shit.” I whirl around to face him.
Dirt and grass stains seep into the material of his jersey, mirroring mine.
He’s as much of a mess as I am, just without the internal war.
“I couldn’t hold onto the ball, I wasn’t paying attention to the plays being set up and I missed a try conversion all because I was distracted by her . ”
Khai rolls his lips and looks around at the deflated room. Our teammates are silent as they sit in front of their locker spaces, heads hanging between their shoulders or eyes locked on the ceiling, likely replaying the game in their heads to see where we went wrong.
I know where we went wrong. It was all me .
“Come on.” Khai clasps my shoulder, guiding me out of the room and into the adjoining training space. With everyone waiting for Coach Phil, ready for him to hand our fucking asses to us, the training room is as private of as space as we’re going to get.
Khai watches, standing in front of me as I pace, eyes locked on the floor as I repeatedly shove my hand through my hair.
“What the hell is going on?” Khai demands. “This is more than just losing the game.”
“I fucking lost her, man.” My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I walked out of the supply room before the game. I’m worried it’s going to give out any second now.
“Who? Tatum?”
I nod, my pace increasing as I fight to keep her sad jade eyes out of my head.
“What happened?” my friend asks, voice even. “You told me everything was going great.”
“It was,” I hiss, shoulders tense. “Until someone took a photo of us at the beach last night and fucking sent it to Phil.”
I stop in front of Khai, chest heaving. I’m not surprised by the shock that passes through his features.
Believe me, I was the same when I saw the photo on Phil’s phone.
It wasn’t until I had returned to the sheds that it really cemented in my mind that someone took that photo and purposefully sent it to Phil knowing it would have this desired reaction.
And as I ran out onto the field, thoughts elsewhere, I knew only one person could be behind this. The same person who told me I would regret my decision to break things off with them.
“Who would do that?” Khai murmurs, the wheels turning in his head, fighting to come up with an answer. “I mean, that’s just fucking cruel.”
“Who else would it be?” I roar, losing the grip I had been trying to keep on my temper. “It had to be Zoe.”
Khai’s eyes widen as realisation dawns on him. “That bitch! Of course she would do something like this. If she can’t have you, then no one else can.”
The anger simmering in my veins reaches boiling point.
My surroundings blur into a hue of red, and my consciousness slips away, replaced with an entity that is filled with nothing but pure rage.
Pain explodes through my fists and it takes me far too long to realise I’m beating the shit out of the curved tackle shield lying in the corner of the room.
I’m no longer in control of my actions or emotions, searching for an outlet for the pent-up rage burning in my chest. Each punch does nothing to cool me off or bring a sense of peace to the situation.
I barely register the pain shooting through my arms or the ache forming in my knuckles.
All I’m focused on is landing punch after punch, fighting the urge to release the scream building at the base of my throat.
It isn’t until Khai wraps his arms around my torso, dragging me away from the foam shield, do I inhale a deep breath. My lungs burn and my body aches when I lock eyes with Khai. Fear flashes through his, and I feel like an asshole for losing my shit.
“Shit, Sin…”
Frowning, I follow his eyes as they drop to the ground. I see blood seeping from the open wounds split across my knuckles, sliding between my fingers and falling to the ground in droplets.
“Fuck,” I wince, swallowing hard. “I didn’t mean?—”
“You need to hit the showers and cool off.” It’s not a suggestion but a demand. “If the guys see you like this, it’s only going to make things worse after an already shit night.”
“You’re right,” I rasp, chest aching. “Shit, man, you’re right. I lost my shit.”
Khai plants his hands on my shoulders, eyes searching my face. “I understand what happened with Tatum is shit. It’s obvious how much you like her, so I understand your pain, Sin. But you can’t let it get the best of you, okay? You need to keep your head in the game for the team’s sake.”
I know he’s right, but I don’t have the energy to tell him that. All I manage is a nod in response.
Khai exhales a sharp breath and guides me toward the showers in the next room over. “We have a long bus ride home, so take as long as you need in the shower. I’ll cover for you with Coach Phil.”
Thank God .
If I had to sit in the same room as the man who tore my girl away from me all while he rips into us about the game, I would surely lose my fucking mind.
The bus ride home was frosty, to say the least. I avoided Phil like the plague, choosing to sit in the furthest seat at the back of the bus with my headphones in and my ‘ don’t fucking look at me ’ attitude firmly in place.
My teammates are under the impression I’m in a bad mood because we lost the game, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Khai did his best to keep everyone out of my way so I could stew in peace, but the more I listened to one of the playlists Tatum made for me, the hotter my skin got and the deeper my rage burned.
I’m angry at myself for letting her walk away. I’m angry that her father put in place a dumb fucking rule that shouldn’t have existed in the first place. I’m angry that he thinks I’m not good enough for his daughter. And I’m angry that there is nothing I can do to fix this.
I stew in this anger until I step off the bus and walk to my car at the training facility without so much as saying a word to my teammates.
I don’t have the energy to deal with anyone right now.
All I want to do is go home and be by myself.
Khai told me he’s going to grab a drink with Nico.
I have no doubt it’s because he wants to give me space, which is fair enough.
I wouldn’t want to be around a brewing storm either.
By the time I get back to the apartment, the twenty-one-year-old scotch in the cupboard is calling my name. It gets pulled out for special occasions, but not tonight. I need something to distract me from the turmoil in my mind. Something to ease the pain. And I need it now.
The brief moment of relief is short-lived when I step through the front door to find my father sitting on the lounge, eyes locked on me.
Fuck my life .
Could this night get any worse?
“What are you doing here?” I don’t have the energy for small talk.