And how could she not?
He was wallowing in uncharacteristic self-pity when he noticed the stranger standing on the sidelines. It wasn’t unusual, as fans came to watch them practice now and then, but there was something about this man — the squint to his eye, the low brim of his hat over his face, the stance as he rocked back and forth from his toes to his heels as though he was waiting for someone – that raised the hairs on the back of Tommy’s neck.
Tommy had a feeling the man was waiting forhim, from the way his head was turned toward him, watching his every move.
“Ward!” he grunted out as Tommy walked by. “A word?”
“Is it important?” Tommy asked, sweat once more trickling down his spine as he had a feeling he knew exactly who this man was — or at least, what he had come for.
“It is,” he said as Tommy approached, although Tommy crossed his arms over his chest and kept a fair enough distance between them, so it was obvious that he had no interest in this conversation. “You didn’t do as you were told last game.”
“I was never told anything,” Tommy said stubbornly. “No one directs me. Especially not someone who is too afraid to show his face, who is cowardly enough to send me a note to tell me what to do.”
“There are consequences to not following through.”
“I am my own man,” Tommy said with a shrug. “You cannot threaten me.”
“Can I not?” the man said. “You have nothing to lose?”
His smirk caused Tommy’s heart to pick up the pace as he realized this man knew exactly what Tommy had to lose now.
“I’ll not be threatened,” Tommy said, leaning in, his voice lowering. “Who are you?”
“I am no one,” the man said, lifting his face high enough that Tommy could see the scar that cut through his eye and up his forehead. “I’m a messenger. Not the man that you need to worry about.”
“Who do you work for, then? I should know who is threatening me.”
“Just know that who it is has enough power to make things difficult for you,” the man said, and Tommy’s heart sank. He had a feeling he knew exactly who this was. And this messenger was right.
It was not a good situation.
Not at all.
“Everything all right over here, Tom?”
Tommy looked over his shoulder to see Rhys walking up to them. Not much got past the captain, and Tommy wasinstantly grateful for Rhys’s intimidating presence. He had broader shoulders than two men combined, and that frown, when Rhys directed it, would scare anyone who was on the other end of it.
“Just a pal of Tommy’s here,” the messenger said with a smile that wasn’t fooling Rhys. “Giving him a little friendly advice.”
“My players don’t need advice from anyone but me,” Rhys growled. “At least, not when it comes to football.”
“This advice extends beyond the football field. Remember what I said, Ward. Keep it in mind for your next game.” The man tipped his hat. “Good day, gentlemen.”
He walked away, slightly limping as he did, and Rhys didn’t move as his eyes followed him. Tommy tried to take a step away, wondering if there was a chance Rhys would let this go, but he was to be disappointed.
“How long are you going to wait to tell me what that was about?” Rhys said, not even looking at Tommy.
“Just a personal thing,” Tommy said, waving a hand as though it was nothing. “Don’t worry yourself over it.”
Rhys turned to face him, that frown that scared the bravest of men now directed upon Tommy, who couldn’t help but wince.
“Tom, do you really think I’m going to let a man like that come to our practice, threaten you, and walk away without you telling me why? No such thing as personal here.”
Tommy sighed. He didn’t want this to affect his teammates, but he also knew Rhys, and he wouldn’t let this go until he knew the full truth of the situation.
“He wants me to throw a match.”
“What?” Rhys uncharacteristically burst out as his face hardened in anger. “What did you say?”
