Defeating the Odds Page 7

  I follow Will to the set of white doors that lead to the reception area. He waves his key card in front of the card reader and lets me through.

  “Mr. Vardy.” Nora calls my name and holds out the phone for me. I smile at her and take the receiver, which is connected to the phone by a cord. Who knew these phones still existed?

  “Hello?”

  “Yo, Damon.”

  “Callum? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, man. Just calling to check in on you. How’s it all going in there?”

  “Um, yeah, good.” I tell him about Sam and how I thought they would get on. I tell him about the buddy system and my gym.

  “So, Mum and Dad want to come for a visit. They were told that you have some family session thing there.”

  “Have they still been seeing him?” I ask, and my jaw tenses as I wait for his answer.

  “Yeah.” He sighs. “They said they felt they owed it to Olivia to make sure he was okay.”

  “What?” I roar. “He fucking killed her! Have they forgotten about that? I hope you and Alex haven’t spoken to him.”

  “No, man. Of course, we haven’t. But I do think at this point there's nothing else we can do. He’s learnt his lesson. You showed him what you can do to him.”

  “Yeah and look where I ended up: leaving him to take my number one spot.”

  “He’s still recovering. He won’t be training yet. So, about Mum and Dad?”

  “No fucking way. I don’t want them here. I don’t want to see them or any of you.” I slam the phone down. I can't believe my parents are supporting that twat. I wait by the door for Will to open it.

  “You okay, Damon?” Will asks as he hurries behind me. I storm up the stairs and thrust my hand into my shorts pocket

  “Fuck!” I shout. “Let me in,” I growl at Will. He swipes his card over my door and I push it open and storm inside.

  “Damon, do you want to talk about it?”

  “Get out!” I roar.

  “You need to talk about it.”

  “No.” I spin around and look at him. “What I need is someone to fuck. And if you don’t get the hell out of here, I’ll be bending you over that bed and having my way with you.” He glances at the bed and then back at me.

  “This isn’t over. You cannot react like this here. Take some time to think about your recovery. I saw you with Sam. You were the one who made her realise that she didn’t rely on her anger today. That will be you soon.”

  He backs out of my room and shuts the door behind him. I grab my laptop see that I still have no emails.

  From: Damon@HillsRehabFacility.co.uk

  To: Ford@WoodLakeRecoveryCentre.co.uk

  Subject: Friendly Support System

  Message:

  I need to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible, and you’re not helping with that.

  Just send me a fucking reply already.

  Scream and shout at me some more if it helps.

  Damon.

  A week has passed since I found out that my email buddy was Damon Vardy, and I am pissed at everything and everyone. Spencer tried telling me that it isn’t Damon’s fault that I fucked up, but I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want people telling me the shit I already knew. Cleo is the only person I will listen to. She's going through a hard time right now and I want to help her. Her sessions have brought up some shit that she really doesn’t want to talk about. She wants the memories to stay hidden.

  My sessions haven’t been going to plan either. Again, I am pissed that they won’t let me find a new email buddy. I stare up at the plain white ceiling and then glance over to my laptop. I bet the fucking bastard has emailed me, making up some shit-arse excuse as to why he fucked up the fight. I sigh loudly and climb to my feet. I pick up the laptop and climb back onto my bed, settling against the headboard. I fire the machine up and open my emails. My heart jolts when I see three emails from Damon.

  I read over the words, feeling them wash over me, angrily at first, but then some other feelings. What the hell had this Noble guy done to his family? Had he hurt them? My stomach twists at the thought. I would kill anyone who hurt my family. I click on the reply button and start typing.

  From: Ford@WoodLakeRecoveryCentre.co.uk

  To: Damon@HillsRehabFacility.co.uk

  Subject: Fuck it.

  Message:

  A bit cocky there, aren’t you, mate? You never lose. Okay, fella, if you say so. What the fuck did Noble do to your family to make you try and end him? Tell me. I would kill any fucker that hurt my family, so I need to know before we go any further, Damon.

  I have had a lot of time to think and be pissed off at everyone around me, except for my girl, Cleo. She told me that I need to vent to you and clear the air. I blame both you and me for what happened. The odds were pretty even, but I was fucking sure he would beat you. I fucked up and bet my mother’s house knowing it was a huge risk to take. I own that shit.

  Get back to me, man. We need to sort this shit out and help each other. I hear you there, mate.

  Ford.

  I click send and place the laptop next to me before sliding down until I am flat on my back. There must be a better way for us to talk. This emailing whenever we can is bollocks. I shut down my laptop and make my way out of my room to find Spencer or Doctor Wilks. I see Cleo drawing through the window. She gives me a little wave before dropping her head back to the sketch pad in her lap. I will deal with her once I sort this messenger thing out. I pass a few of the patients mulling around, doing fuck all, as usual. But as long as they do what is asked of them, they can do nothing

  I spot Spencer playing football out in the garden and I make my way over. I can’t help but smile at the scene before me. It’s three on three, and they have used their jackets as goalposts. Now that is old school. I chuckle as Spencer tries tackling one of the skinny lads, but he tricks him, passing the ball through Spencer’s legs. Once past Spencer's defence, the lad shoots and scores. I laugh out loud at the young boys goal celebration. I walk towards them, still laughing.

  “Right, that’s it. I want Ford on my team,” Spencer yells out once he spots me walking in his direction.

  “No fucking way. He is a fucking football pro, man. Nope. Not happening. That is un-fucking-fair.” His words sound angry, but he is smiling at us. I didn’t realise that so many of the people in here knew who I was. I shrug my shoulders and keep walking towards Spencer. His smile drops a little when he sees the look on my face.

  “Alright, boys, that is me done for the day. This old man needs to rest up.”

  “Old man, is right. You can’t keep up with us fitties.” He winks at Spencer.

  “Of course not. My brother would have a field day with you fitties.” He uses air quotes when he says ‘fitties’, and the rest of us boys burst out laughing.

  “Hey, I ain’t no faggot. I love me some pure female pussy, man.” The word ‘faggot’ makes my blood boil, and I step forward, but Spencer gets there before me.

  “If I ever hear you say that word again, I swear to God, Phil, I’ll make sure that you are on toilet duty for the rest of the year. You hear me?” The guy nods, and that is when I notice he is in a staff uniform. “My brother is gay, there are millions of people that are gay. You love who you love. You sleep, eat and breathe the same way a gay man does. The same way a lesbian does. Hell, you have sex the same way, because do not tell me that you have never done anal before. You had better keep your mouth shut or there will be hell to pay.” He nods his head to the bottom of the garden and I follow.

  I hear his heavy breaths as he walks, and I know they're not only from his running around during the game. My heart is beating like crazy in my chest as I think about the guy’s words. I hate that fucking word. I know plenty of gay people that are open about their sexuality. I wish I had their confidence to come out. Elliott has tried more than once to make me come out. But am I really ready for that? Do I want the world to know my private life? It is getting harder and harder
to hide my true self.

  “What’s up, Ford?” he asks as he takes a seat on the small three-foot wall.

  “I emailed Damon back.” I take a deep breath and continue, “Something happened between him and Noble, which is why he went batshit crazy on him in the cage. He said something about his family, but I don’t know what.”

  “Are you going to keep emailing him?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

  “I was hoping there might be a quick Messenger-type app that we can use instead? This emailing back and forth is bullshit. It takes hours to get a reply. How the hell is that supposed to help us?” He thinks about his answer before looking back at me.

  “I think we can set you up with a Hi-talk account.”

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “It’s like KIK and Whatsapp, but this is an internal messaging system. I don't know why this wasn’t thought of before. It could help out a lot more.” He stands, and I follow. We walk back into the building and go down to Doctor Wilks’ office. Once there, they go about showing me how to set up an account, using my recovery email that I use to contact Damon.

  I rush back to my room and reopen my laptop. My heart is going fucking crazy again. I have no idea why talking to this man is making me nervous. I hated him yesterday, but now… Now I have no fucking clue how I feel. I set up my account and send a quick email to Damon, explaining the new plan.

  From: Ford@WoodLakeRecoveryCentre.co.uk

  To: Damon@HillsRehabFacility.co.uk

  Subject: Hi-Talk

  Message:

  Hey, Damon. I know I emailed already but this waiting for you to email back is bollocks. I talked to the doc here and she showed me this new quick chat app. It is called Hi-Talk and allows us to instant message each other on the laptop. The staff at your place should be able to help you set one up. My username is Ford18. Add me. This is way better than waiting around for hours for us to chat. I wanna know what the fuck Noble has done to your family. I think we are both fucked up in our own way, and maybe we can help each other out. What do you think?

  Write back soon, man.

  Ford.

  I hit send and stupid thoughts of what Damon looks like up close float through my mind. His promotional photos made him look like a mean son-of-a-bitch. But his body… fucking hell, I would top and bottom for that man. I open a Google page and type in his name. Not many photos pop up of him, and the ones that do are mainly images from his fights. There is one with him holding hands with another guy while out walking.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Damon Vardy is gay. My heart is in my throat and my cock is getting hard. Images of him topping me, pounding into me… Fuck me, I need to get laid, but I know that isn’t going to fucking happen any time soon. Not having sex is a killer. I rub my hand over my semi-hard dick in my jeans and close my eyes, picturing the things this man could do to me. Imagining the feel of his skin against mine. The way his-

  A cough breaks my horny thoughts. I turn to see Cleo standing by my door. Her smirk tells me she knows what I need, but I think she also knows that she isn’t the one to help me.

  “I finished the design for you. I will let you get back to the wanking over that very hot-as-fuck man on the screen.” She takes a step closer and looks the screen.

  “Oh, is that Damon Vardy? I’ve heard about him. He is a big MMA fighter that got in trouble recently. Something about an accident in the family.” An accident. Is that why he hates Noble so much?

  “Well, I had better go. Catch you later, Ford.” I nod but my fingers are already busy searching for the accident involving Damon's family.

  What I find is not good. That poor man.

  “Hey, how are you feeling today?” I ask Sam as I sit next to her and open my laptop. Yesterday, I didn’t check if Ford had replied. I was angry as fuck about my parents wanting to come and see me. I couldn’t believe they were still seeing that piece of shit. I still couldn’t understand how they managed to forgive him so easily after he took their baby girl from this world.

  Thoughts of Olivia flit through my mind; her easy-going attitude, how she lit up a room with her gorgeous smile and how everyone had loved her. Her funeral had been packed full of people, so much so that not everyone could fit in the church. Some had to stand outside and listen through the speaker system.

  The only way to calm my rage down was to shower and jerk off. It wasn’t half as good as the real thing. I so wanted to push some guy to his knees and thrust my cock down his throat.

  “Um… I’m not doing so good. My mum is coming in today.” Sam breaks me out of my thoughts and I turn my attention to her as my laptop comes to life.

  “Is it a good idea to see your mum today?”

  “Yeah, I need to work through everything and get the hell out of here. I need to live my life for me, you know?”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I click open the emails from Ford and read them over quickly. “Hi-Talk?” I mumble.

  “Oh, are you setting up the instant messenger app?” Sam asks.

  “You know what it is?” She smiles and nods.

  “It’s how I talk to Hailey now. We chat all the time. Here, I’ll show you.” She turns her laptop towards me and explains all about the app and how easy it is to use. “Oh, Mum is here.” She’s looking over my shoulder and I turn my head to see a tall, thin woman with short, bobbed, blonde hair. Her arms are crossed over her chest and her lips are pressed together as if she is pissed off.

  “Come and find me after, okay?”

  “Yep.” She smiles before slamming the lid of the laptop down, and I watch as she heads towards her mum. There is no greeting between them, no smiles, no hug, nothing. I feel for Sam. I can see she craves attention and support from her mum. I don’t know how a parent could be like that towards their children.

  Thoughts of my own mum pop into my head. She had always showered us with love and affection, and here I was, shutting her out. I just don’t know how to deal with the fact that she is so concerned for Flynn. He took the most precious thing in the world from us.

  I finish setting up my Hi-Talk account, then click on the search button and type in Ford18. One profile pops up with a picture of a man with dark blond hair and blue eyes. He’s shirtless, and I’m impressed by the tribal tattoo that covers his pec and shoulder.

  I quickly upload one of my personal photos from Facebook. I don’t need to - but this guy knows what I looked like, so why not. After all, he has seen me do my thing up close and personal. I chuckle as I load a similar picture to his. It has me in one of my team hoodies, zip open and bare-chested. My hair is chucked up in a bun and my cocky smile is present.

  HotHeadV: So, you got me here. What are you going to do with me?

  Ford18: Now isn’t that a loaded question. I just thought it would be easier than emailing back and forth.

  HotHeadV: Yeah, right. Nice pic by the way. That tattoo would look awesome extended…

  Ford18: Thanks, man. I will extend soon, I want it to go over my shoulder blade. How are you coping in that place?

  HotHeadV: Yeah, not too bad. I’ve got my own gym, and having Sam here really helps. I just wanna stay focused and get the hell out of here, ya know?

  Ford18: I hear you, man. Believe me, I do. I run here. The gym isn’t that bad, but I prefer running. Keeps the heat pumping, ya know. I don’t need to be here, but my fucking brother and coach ganged up on me. So here I am.

  HotHeadV: Yeah, tell me about it. Just because I almost ended some piece of white trash, all of a sudden, I have anger issues! Whatever!

  Ford18: I read about it. It is fucked up, mate. I’m sorry for all the shit that happened. I would kill anyone who hurt my family. As for my story… I lost a few bets and everyone is saying I have a fucking gambling problem. What-the-fuck-ever.

  HotHeadV: Not everything you read on the internet is true!!

  Ford18: Oh, I hear you, dude. In my job, I get this shit all the time. So do my teammates. The press like to make shit up for sale
s.

  HotHeadV: Teammates? What is it you do?

  Ford18: I play football.

  HotHeadV: Football? A pussy’s game. Rugby is a man's game.

  Ford18: Bollocks is it. I work my fucking arse off for my team. I live, breathe and sleep football. Don’t get me wrong, I like rugby, but football is my passion. We work just as hard as any other sportsperson.

  HotHeadV: Yeah, but watching those tight arses and thick, muscular thighs of a rugby man is HOT! Better than some weedy little man with no muscle

  Ford18: Weedy little man? Are you fucking serious? Fuck off. I know plenty of footballers that are sexy as fuck. Plus, footballers have a shit load of stamina. ;)

  HotHeadV: Oh, so you’ve noticed sexy footballers, have you? Didn’t realise you were gay too. Maybe I need to google you like you did me.

  Ford18: I am not fucking gay. Nope. Not really. Fuck. Can we change the subject?

  HotheadV: So, who do you play for?

  Ford18: I play for Roake Town. We took the FC Cup last season. You just fight, right?

  HotHeadV: What the hell is a FC cup? Just fight? It’s not like I just get up in the morning and walk into the cage and fight. It takes a lot of preparation. My body has to be in the best physical shape. I have to watch everything that goes into my system.

  Ford18: It’s a champion cup that we play each season. Touchy much. Fucking hell, I didn’t mean it like that. I know what it takes. I have to be very careful of what I eat, and we train four or five times a week. I get it, okay. And dude, you do not wanna hear my thoughts about what goes into your body. LOL