Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Leopard Skin Cover - 2. Chapter 2
He made a decision. Saturday night, after the game, he would go to the gay nightclub he’d found.
It was a boutique club, but that’s what he needed. The larger nightclubs catered for a mixed gay/straight crowd, and that meant there was the chance that someone who knew him might be there. He knew that a couple of his teammates had previously visited one of the larger nightclubs in Prahran with their girlfriends, and being seen there only by himself wasn’t something he wanted to handle.
It tore him up, but even though he was sure that most of his teammates wouldn’t have a problem with him being gay, he still couldn’t let them know the truth. If he ever made it to the elite level of his sport, he wanted to be known for his skills, not as “that gay footballer”. Once a few people knew, it wouldn’t be long before it became public knowledge, and the media spotlight would be on him for the wrong reasons. Even worse than being known as “that gay footballer” was, in his mind, the possibility of being “that gay footballer failure”, a failure due to the pressure he would feel from that spotlight.
So he kept it secret. Semi-regular trips to the nightclub were his only escape. He only let himself go once a month; occasionally twice. Each visit was a risk not only in getting caught, but also in finding a way of slipping off by himself that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. However, he also recognised that those trips were a release that he needed. Even if he didn’t find someone to have sex with, just having a couple of hours of not hiding was a relief. Being able to dance with, to touch, and hopefully even to kiss another guy was a pleasure he had to ration. It would be too easy to get complacent – and then get caught.
He hated this life and the lies he had to tell to live it, but he feared the alternative even more.
* * *
At the Tenterfield house, Jim and Ryan were having breakfast when Ty shuffled into the room. His head was hung low, and he didn’t make eye contact with his older housemates.
“G’day, guys,” Ty muttered.
“Morning, Ty.”
When Jim didn’t say anything, Ryan glanced over to see him staring with narrowed eyes at his rookie housemate.
Ty stopped when he neared the kitchen table. He sighed heavily and then looked up. “I’m sorry for being a shit, and I’m going to try to do better.”
Jim’s expression didn’t change. “And…?”
Ty took a deep breath. “And I’m going to stop complaining about things and be a team player.”
“And…?”
Ty frowned. “And what? I’m fucking doing everything you told me to do.”
“You need to apologise to Julie. Not only is she one of your coaches, but she’s also the sister of one of your teammates. If you’re going to be a team player, you need to mend the bridges you’ve been burning.”
Ty gritted his teeth before throwing his hands into the air. “Fine! I’ll apologise to her at the game.”
Jim shook his head. “We need everyone at the game focused on the game, not on other things. You’ll ring her now and apologise.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and pushed it across the table. “Here’s her number.”
Ty looked at the paper and then at Jim. “How...?”
“I called Paul last night. You’re lucky; I could’ve asked Peter for that number instead, in which case you’d be explaining to him why I needed it. You don’t want that.”
Ty snatched up the number and stormed back to his room. Jim stared after him for a couple of moments before sighing. “I hate doing that to him. He’s a good guy at heart; he’s just got some issues he needs to sort out.”
Ryan let out the breath he had been holding. “I don’t think I could’ve been that harsh with him. He needed it, though, so thanks, Jim.” He paused and gave his housemate a quizzical look. “Do I need to know what those issues are?”
Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t get them out of him last night, just the acknowledgement that he had some. I’m guessing at least part of it is disappointment with not getting drafted into the AFL, but there may be more. I think he’s also jealous that the rest of us have girlfriends, but that’s a guess.”
“I’d suspected the draft issue, and I knew he was getting sensitive on the girlfriend thing, but I didn’t think that was enough to explain how he’d been acting.” Ryan swallowed. “Jim, I think I need to ask Glenda to get someone else to look after Ty. I’m not up to the job.”
Glenda Williams was the person at the club who had organised the mentoring for the new players. She’d been the one to sit down with each senior player and tell them about the guy they’d be helping settle in. Ryan wasn’t looking forward to telling her that she’d made a mistake.
“Hey, don’t put yourself down! This is one incident, that’s all.”
Ryan shook his head. “No, I’ve been out of my depth the whole time. Look at what happened that first week!”
Jim snorted. “That was an eye-opener for me, too.” He paused in thought. “How about instead of getting Glenda involved, you take over helping Deon and I deal with Ty? Officially, there’s no change – we’re just adjusting things between us.”
A cough snapped their attention to where Deon was standing in the doorway. “That’ll work for me.” He smiled. “If Jim can drag Ty’s arse back into gear, I’m all for it. I played against Ty during high school, and he’s got the potential to be absolutely dynamite. He’s worth saving if Jim can manage it.”
“Great. No pressure there.” Jim rolled his eyes before fixing Deon with a narrowed gaze. “How long have you been listening?”
Deon shrugged. “Long enough. You guys aren’t supposed to be our parents, and I’m sorry you’re having to do this. If you need any help from me, just ask.”
Jim turned back to Ryan. “Deon’s fine with it, so how about it? You get the baby, and I get the brat.”
“Hey!”
Ryan laughed. “Okay, I’ll take Deon.” He looked up. “Get something to eat and plan on having a light lunch. Kick-off’s at two, but we need to be ready well before then.”
Deon saluted. “Sir, yes sir!” He stepped into the kitchen and headed to the cupboards with the breakfast cereal. “From what I heard, we’re going to have our work cut out for us.”
* * *
Charlie froze as he entered the kitchen of the Lowfield Place house. Jarrod was already there, munching his way through a large bowl of cornflakes. When Jarrod, mouth full, noticed and lifted a hand in greeting, Charlie smiled tentatively and moved in to start getting his own breakfast ready.
Jarrod swallowed and then grinned. “G’day, Charlie.”
“Hi. You’re up early.”
Jarrod shrugged. “I had trouble sleeping, so I thought I’d get up and do something productive.”
“How long have you been up?”
“A couple of hours.” Jarrod paused, his eyes going unfocused. “It was good. I had a chance to sort out a few things and get my head back into gear.”
Charlie didn’t know how to respond, so he continued putting together his own breakfast.
Jarrod chuckled. “Nice of you to not say anything, Charlie, but I know I wasn’t particularly pleasant yesterday. I’d had a bad day at work, and I took it out on you. Sorry about that; I really didn’t mean what I said. I wish I didn’t have to work full time, but that’s not your fault.”
Charlie gave Jarrod a wry grin. “Thanks. I knew you didn’t really mean it, so it didn’t bother me.”
Jarrod stared back, a wry smile on his lips. “Really?”
Charlie laughed. “Okay, a little, but that’s more because it was out of character. I didn’t expect you to attack me.”
“I shouldn’t’ve. Next time, just slap me down and tell me to get angry at the right things and not my mates.”
“Next time?”
Jarrod smiled as he shrugged. “Yeah, next time. I’m trying to get better, but when I get stressed I lash out at people. My friends know this and ignore me, but yesterday was the first time I’d done it since I joined the Leopards.” He looked past Charlie. “G’day, Dave.”
“Morning, Jarrod, Charlie.” Dave’s dishevelled appearance in a T-shirt and boxers was familiar to both rookies. They also knew enough not to bother engaging him in a conversation until he’d had at least one cup of coffee. It was after he’d had his caffeine fix and some breakfast that he’d go back to his room to clean up and make himself presentable. Only then would he be fit to talk to.
“Anything in particular stressing you out?” Charlie asked.
Jarrod shrugged. “Life in general. My mum’s making comments again about how she’d like me to bring a girl around for dinner. I’m only eighteen, for Christ’s sake! I’ve got plenty of time to settle down.”
Charlie chuckled. “Does that mean you’ll be joining me, Ty, and the other guys on a trip to the King Street nightclubs tonight?”
“Shit, yes! What did you call them yesterday? Educational trips?” Jarrod grinned. “I was in too sour a mood yesterday to properly appreciate it then, but your comment almost had me laughing.” He winked. “Don’t expect me to come home with you, though, because I’m intending to get laid.”
Charlie grinned back. “You and me and the rest of guys, too.”
* * *
Peter slammed a fist on the arm of his sideline chair as he watched their opponents kick another goal. “Shit! O’Neil is killing us on their forward line. Neither Todd nor Paul have been able to shut him down.”
Julie flicked a questioning glance at Will.
“Number 27 for the Werribee Tigers. Ex-AFL player,” Will whispered.
Julie smiled her thanks, and then schooled her expression before trying to attract the head coach’s attention.
“Sir, I’ve got a suggestion.”
Peter glared. “What is it, Julie, because we need something fast.”
Julie flinched and tensed up. “Sorry.”
Peter sighed. “That wasn’t meant for you, Julie. We’re getting killed out there, and I’m fresh out of ideas. What have you got for me?”
Julie relaxed. “Put Jarrod on him. O’Neil’s beating us with speed, and Jarrod’s one of the few who’s fast enough to stop him from getting the easy passes. Either him or Ollie”
“Waste of time. Jarrod’s a midfielder and has never played on the backline. O’Neil’s also got six inches on him in height, and God knows how much in weight on him. He’ll be completely outclassed, and Ollie would be even worse.”
“I know, but he’s not beating us on height and weight, he’s beating us with speed and receiving chest passes. If we have Jarrod tag him, it’ll make them change the way they’re playing. When they do, we can switch back to Todd or Paul; either of them can block him from taking the high marks.”
Peter glanced at Will.
“Worth a shot, Peter. It can’t be any worse than what’s happening at the moment. The only change I’d make is that I’d put Jim on him later instead of Todd or Paul. Jim doesn’t have their height or Jarrod’s speed, but if we rattle them so they’re not sure if they should be going for the short pass or the long kick, Jim’s the guy to pick off any mistakes they make.”
“He’s right, sir. They’re on a roll, and we need to break their concentration. Jarrod will do that first, and then Jim will finish it off. The only tricky part will be the timing on the switch from Jarrod to Jim, and back again, if needed.”
Peter nodded. “That’s my job.” He turned his head to call over his shoulder while keeping his attention on the game before them. “I need a runner to Jarrod, Todd and Jim. Jarrod to tag number 27, Todd to tag number 19 and Jim to sweep. Move it!”
Peter watched, expressionless as the runner headed onto the oval to pass on the instructions. It was a small risk to not assign Jim an explicit opponent, but he’d been effective in the previous season as a sweeper, ably playing the role of a loose defender who helped out as needed. “Good suggestion, Julie. Let’s hope it works. One thing: the name’s Peter, not Sir.”
Julie nodded. “Okay, Peter.”
The switch had an effect almost straightaway. The next kick to the lanky O’Neil was intercepted by Jarrod who immediately kicked the ball forward to where Jim was by himself on the right flank. Twenty metres and one bounce later, Jim made a stab pass to Roger who had broken away from the opposing team’s defender. Roger safely caught the hard-kicked ball between his arms and his chest – an uncontested mark thirty metres from the goal on a forty-five degree angle.
“Yes!” Peter and the assistant coaches watched as Roger took his time preparing for a goal kick. “How long until half time?”
“About eight minutes,” the timekeeper called out.
“Come on, Roger, we need this one,” Peter said to himself.
Fifteen second later, the coaching team cheered as Roger delivered a textbook drop punt between the goal posts for another six points to their score.
Peter’s eyes scanned the oval as the umpires carried the football back to the centre for the bounce to restart play. “We need to keep the pressure on.” He turned his head. “I need a runner to Zach. I want him to look for Ollie on the ruck if he can.”
“Ollie?” Julie asked.
“We’re changing tactics. Let’s see if we can use our speed to keep them off balance. If Zach can tap the ball to Ollie, there’s a good chance he’ll get it away before anyone else can react.” His brow narrowed in concentration as he glanced at the interchange bench. He raised his voice. “Euan!”
Euan McKensie moved from the bench and squatted down next to Peter. “You want me for something?”
“I want you to go on for Ryan. Your job is to gather up the loose ball and get it off as fast as you can. Chase the ball hard. Now go.”
Euan nodded and jogged to the interchange area. Less than a minute later, Ryan came off and Euan took his place as the umpire bounced the ball in the centre square. Zach managed to time it well and knocked the ball to where Ollie was waiting. Ollie immediately spun on his heels and headed diagonally across the ground into an open space, giving himself room to line up a kick to the forward line where Owen was sprinting forward. The kick was short, but Owen dove forward and managed to gather it up in his arms before it hit the ground, fifty metres out from the goal.
Owen took his time with his kick, lining himself with the midpoint between the goalposts , when he suddenly did a stab pass to Deon on his right who had broken away and was by himself. Deon marked the sharply kicked ball easily, forty-five metres out and directly in front.
Peter frowned. “Look for the short pass, Deon, not the goals. You’re too far out,” he muttered.
The young player didn’t share the same opinion. Concentrating, he first stepped back several steps, and then took eight measured but accelerating steps forward, before releasing the ball so that it dropped down as his right foot swung forward.
The ball sailed onward, but swung to the left.
“Come on... come on... damn!” Peter’s fist hit the arm of his chair as the ball passed on the wrong side of the left-hand goal post, resulting in a behind, scoring one point instead of the much needed six points for another goal.
The three coaches watched as the Werribee Tigers took possession of the ball in the goal square and prepared to kick the ball back into play. As per their training, most of the Leopard midfielders had flooded forward to restrict the options for the kick-in.
Peter scowled. “What’s Euan doing behind his player? He’s supposed to be in front to stop the kick!”
Seeing the free player running towards him on the left-hand side, the Werribee player quickly turned and kicked the ball. That was the signal for Euan to put on a sudden burst of speed, reaching his opponent and spoiling the mark with a punch to the football. The two chased after the loose ball with the Tiger player marginally in front of Euan, but the ovoid ball’s erratic bounce favoured Euan. Grabbing the ball, he handballed it immediately to Deon who was running past. Deon, with one large Tiger defender on his heels and another approaching rapidly from the side, snapped a shot at the goal. This time the ball passed between the goalposts for the Leopard’s second goal in three minutes.
“Yes!” Peter pumped his fist. Forcing himself to calm down, he glanced at the scoreboard; they were still twenty points behind.
* * *
“Okay, guys, let’s recap. We outscored them from the middle of the second quarter until the middle of the last. If we hadn’t slackened off in the last ten minutes, we would’ve held onto our lead and could’ve won.
“The reason we lost is because too many players got tired. That means we’ve still got a lot of endurance work to do, because we can’t win games unless we can play a full four quarters!”
Peter paused and surveyed the assembled team. Apart from Deon, who’d managed to kick three goals, and a couple of others who had above-average games, the rest of the players were obviously disappointed with their eight-point loss.
“We’ve still got a few weeks before the regular season starts, so there’s time to address the problems. What I want to emphasise, though, is what went right today. The first is how we turned back the tide in the middle of the second quarter. I’d like to acknowledge that Julie’s the one who identified not only the key problem with the Tigers’ forward line consistently beating our defenders, but also the solution.” He turned his head and nodded to Julie before returning his attention to the players. He smiled. “Jarrod, you did great out there in an unfamiliar position, and your efforts in shutting down O’Neil were brilliant. Julie suggested you for the role, and I’m more than glad to see that you lived up to her faith in you.”
The guys closest to Jarrod either bumped fists with him or gave him a welcoming slap on the shoulders or back, while those further away cheered and called out their congratulations. Jarrod grinned, but his red face showed how much the youngster wasn’t used to the attention.
“The bad news is that now I’m going to be on your case to skill up as a part-time defender, because we’re going to need you to do the same next time we play the Tigers.”
As the chuckles that followed that statement died down, Peter nodded at Roger, the team captain. “Roger, another good game, and you’ve certainly inspired the other forwards. Deon, a great game, but you need to improve on your accuracy. Three goals is excellent, but five behinds...” Peter shook his head. “Next time I want that to be five goals and three behinds. In the meantime, I suggest you go out and celebrate tonight, because you deserve it.”
Peter spent the next couple of minutes praising the performance of several other players, before settling back and eyeing the entire team.
“One positive thing that came out of today’s game, and it was inspired by Julie, was a new set of tactics. We’ve always focused more on height and strength than speed, but for the first quarter and a half, they weren’t working well enough. Julie suggested we concentrate on speed, and it worked. Not perfectly, but enough to make a difference. For the next few weeks, we’re going to concentrate more on our speed game. Tomorrow, Will, Julie and I will start planning a new training schedule that puts more emphasis on speed and agility. We’re going to continue with our standard power game, but we’re adding an extra option to our armoury to use when we need it. The Tigers had trouble coping when we changed tactics even though we haven’t trained for what we did. Just imagine how they’re going to feel when we’re operating at maximum potential.”
“We’re going to blow them out of the water!” Roger yelled. His teammates yelled back, and for the next minute there was wave of enthusiasm from the team.
Peter smiled. The initial depression that permeated the room after the loss was gone, and team spirit had returned. He waited for a break and then told the team to take their showers. Tilting his head, he beckoned Will and Julie to follow him as he left the change rooms.
Once outside in the hallway, he headed to the coaches’ room. “Sorry that I sprang that on you without notice, but I’m going to need both of your inputs tomorrow on how we can change our training to add a speed game to our repertoire. Will you guys be available tomorrow afternoon or evening?”
“Either for me, Peter,” Julie said.
“Same here.” Will turned to Julie as he continued along the corridor. “The Broncos were mainly a speed team, weren’t they?”
She shrugged. “More through necessity than anything else. We didn’t have the same number of tall players as the other teams, so we had to beat them in other ways. Here, with the new guys who joined this year, we’ve got both, and I think that can make a real difference to the team.”
Peter nodded as he opened the door to their meeting room. “I agree. It hadn’t hit me before how many fast players we gained this year, but now that it has, I want to take full advantage.”
As he sat down, Will looked at Julie. “Are you doing anything tonight? If not, would you like to come over for dinner with Rachel and me?”
“Sure! Rachel’s your wife?”
Will nodded. “She hates me talking work at home, but she’s used to it by now, and I really want to get a start on the new strategy. I’ll give her a call when we finish to let her know and confirm the time.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Peter smiled. He had expected Will to become enthusiastic with the new assignment and was pleased to see that Julie was showing a similar attitude.
* * *
Todd stopped checking his appearance in the hallway mirror long enough to glance into the Bronson house living room. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
Paul shook his head. “I’m really not in the mood.”
“You don’t have to pick up – just be there with your mates and have a good time. I’ll even offer to be the designated driver and take you home afterwards.”
Oliver came out of his room and frowned. “You can’t do that, mate. It’ll kill any pull with the girls if you’re not drinking.”
Todd turned his head and glared at Oliver. Without saying a word, he schooled his expression back into one of politeness as he returned his attention to Paul.
“Thanks for the offer, Todd, but I’ll pass. Ollie’s right, I’ll be a mood killer.”
“No, you won’t. It’ll be fine. Come on, get changed, and join us. We can wait a few minutes for you to get ready.”
“Nah, I’ve made up my mind. You two head off and enjoy yourselves. I’ll be fine.” Paul waved a hand to dismiss them as he picked up the TV remote.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Paul smiled. “Slip me the names of the new girls tomorrow when you see me so I don’t make any mistakes. Are you planning on bringing them back here, like normal?”
“Of course! Why change a winning strategy?”
Paul laughed. “In that case, I’ll see you both sometime tomorrow afternoon. Have fun!”
After a final farewell, Oliver and Todd headed outside into the warm late February night and climbed into Todd’s station wagon for the drive to the train station.
“Get a move on, Todd, or we’ll miss everyone else,” Oliver said.
“We’ve got plenty of time. Don’t be such a worry wart. Even if we miss the train, the next one is only about twenty minutes later, and we can catch up with the others in the city. That’s what phones are for.”
“Yeah, but then I’ll be stuck on the train for an hour with only you to talk to, and that’s a fate worse than death.”
Todd laughed. “Would you prefer to walk? I can pull over and let you out if you like.”
“No bloody way! I need you to pick up the girls I reject. It’s not fair to them if you’re not there.”
“You still believe that? I’ll have you know that they always check me out before they even look at you. You’re always getting my leftovers, and you know it.”
“The only reason they check you out first is because you’re so bloody big that it’s impossible for them to miss you. That doesn’t mean they like what they see. That’s the difference between you and me.”
The two continued their playful bickering until they arrived at the Lilydale train station. Todd locked the car, knowing he wouldn’t be back to pick it up until sometime later after he’d sobered up.
“Hey, guys! About time you showed up.” Ty grinned and gave Oliver a high five as he and Todd arrived on the platform. “Looking good, mate.”
“I always look good.” Oliver glanced around. “Anyone missing?”
“Apart from Paul, who obviously isn’t coming, nope. All the single guys are here and ready for a night of drunken debauchery.”
Dave overheard the comment and frowned as he stepped forward. “Be careful, Ty. You know what Peter said about representing the club. We don’t want to make the papers for the wrong reasons.”
Ty rolled his eyes. “Jesus, mate, do I have to put up with it from you, too? Jim’s already on my back about making sure I behave myself. I don’t need you doing the same.”
Dave held up both hands in surrender. “Chill, Ty. We’re all looking to have a good time, and we all hope to get some action. We just don’t want that action on the front pages of the newspapers, that’s all.”
Ty narrowed his eyes. “Did I say I was going to do that? Why are you guys trying to make me out to be the bad guy?”
Charlie, who had been listening alongside Jarrod and the rest of the team that was there, interrupted before Dave could respond.
“You’re not the bad guy, Ty, you’re the party animal. Everyone knows that party animals aren’t house-trained, and that’s why the girls love them.” He grinned. “And that’s why we all go along when you’re in party mode, because it’s always fun. What have you got for us this week? Starting at Bar 20?”
Ty grinned. “Yep. I’ve got complementary passes again, so we’ll start with the strippers and then move on to Fusion at Crown. If we’re not lucky there, we’ll head back to King Street to Tramps or head out and see if there’s anything going on with tonight’s White Night festival. From what I could see on the website there may be a few events where we could pick up, but I think we’ll do better at the nightclubs. That’ll take us through until sunrise on Sunday, if anyone needs that long. Personally, I don’t expect to make it past Fusion, but some of you losers may take longer.”
There were a lot of grins as well as “You wish” and “Yeah, right” from the gathered group. With the basic plan in action, they waited for the train that would take them into the city for the night.
* * *
Paul waited until he was sure that Todd and Oliver would have left the train station. After getting changed, he headed out. It was a long walk to the station, but he knew he had time. It was a pleasant night for a stroll, though he was concentrating too much to appreciate it. He had a job to do and only had a limited timeframe in which he could slip out. He had already decided to not take his car as he was supposed to be staying home for the night. If someone were to see that the car was missing, it would raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
He was nervous, but he knew it was something that needed to be done. He’d be back late, but, from past experiences, he should still be home before his two housemates. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they returned before him and realised he wasn’t there.
* * *
Ryan pushed his plate away from him and grinned across the table. “That was delicious.”
Denise and Jim chuckled. Ryan had been the first to finish, well ahead of anyone else. They were eating in the bistro at the Crown Hotel, something that Ryan and Jim tried to do once a month as a treat to themselves and, when appropriate, their partners. This was the first time that Fiona, Ryan’s girlfriend of three weeks, had joined them. Denise and Jim had been together for almost a year and had dinner with Ryan at the Crown regularly.
“If you’re still hungry, you can have some of my fish.” Fiona frowned at her dinner. “I don’t think I’ll finish it. I didn’t realise the barramundi would be this large.”
“Are you sure?” Ryan asked.
She nodded and smiled. “You’re obviously hungrier than I am. Go for it.”
While Ryan moved part of his girlfriend’s meal from her plate to his, Denise paused in her eating. “Jim tells me that you and he have swapped which guy you’re looking after at home. How’s that working out?”
Ryan shrugged. “Too early to say; we only swapped this morning. But I’m much happier, because Deon’s much easier to handle than Ty. Jim’s welcome to him.”
Jim shook his head. “Ty’s not that bad. He just needs someone to tell him where the boundaries are.”
Ryan grinned. “I don’t think you were around this morning when Ty told Deon what he’s going to start calling you.”
Jim paused with a piece of porterhouse steak halfway to his mouth. “What did he say?”
“Your new nickname is ‛Dad’. I didn’t hear him use it at the club, so I don’t know if he’ll go through with it, but he seemed pretty definite.”
Jim rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. Just what I need.”
Everyone else at the table laughed. Denise put her hand on Jim’s bicep. “I think you’ll make a great dad.”
Jim sighed. “I’m not his dad, and I don’t want to be his dad. I’m just the guy who’s supposed to pull him into line when he goes too far.”
“And what are dads for... Dad?” Ryan faked a flinch as Jim threw him an angry glare. “I think it’s funny.”
Jim grunted. “So will the rest of the guys on the team. Maybe I should ask Glenda to assign Ty to Ian. That way Ian can learn what it’s like to deal with a rebellious teenager at the same time he’s getting used to a newborn. It might make him change his mind about having a large family.”
Fiona smiled. “But you were just saying Ty wasn’t that bad.”
“He’s not... not really. He’s got problems that he needs to sort out, but once he’s done that, he’ll be fine.”
“What sort of problems?” Denise asked.
“No idea. He didn’t tell me.” Jim glanced at Ryan. “Did he say anything to you?”
“He made a comment about not wanting to disappoint his parents, but that’s about it. Whatever it is, he’s keeping it pretty close to his chest.”
Denise smiled at Jim. “That sounds pretty promising. He doesn’t want to disappoint you... Dad.”
While Ryan, Fiona and Denise laughed, Jim tried to glare at his girlfriend but couldn’t maintain the expression. “I’m not going to win this one, am I?”
“Nope.” Ryan paused. “Seriously, though, I think it’ll be good. He might resent you at times, but his apologies this morning showed that he’s trying to do what you asked of him. I don’t expect him to change overnight, but he seems to be heading in the right direction.”
The four continued to chat until they had finished. Skipping dessert, they moved to the bar, ordered drinks, and continued the process of integrating Fiona into the group.
An hour later, Jim and Denise headed one way and Ryan and Fiona another, the guys taking the girls back to their respective homes.
* * *
Rachel Lander glared at her husband, Will. “Did you really need to do all of that? I’d hoped for a quiet dinner for just the two of us, not a dinner for three in which I was excluded from most of the conversation!”
Will blinked. “That was work. We needed to get things organised and ready for tomorrow afternoon’s meeting. When was I supposed to meet up with her?”
“I don’t want you meeting up with her at all. She was practically crawling all over you!”
“She was not!”
“Then, why were you sitting so close together so much? If she was much closer, she’d’ve been in your lap!”
“We needed to sit together so I could see the training diagrams she was drawing. I tried doing it from the side, but they didn’t make sense until I was looking at them the right way!”
“And then you invited her back for dinner tomorrow night!”
“I was being sociable! She’s new to the team, and we need to get to know her. You didn’t object when we did the same for Alexander.”
“That was two years ago and before we found out what a creep he really was. And he wasn’t trying to get into your pants!”
“Julie was doing no such thing. She’s a complete professional!”
“She’s a complete slut!”
Will gritted his teeth and stood up. He walked over to the bench where he’d left his keys and wallet when he had first come home.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Will glared at Rachel. “Down to the RSL for a drink. I’ll be back later.”
“Don’t you leave me in the middle of an argument!”
Will ignored her and stepped outside. In the shadows on the front verandah he paused and tried to calm his racing heart. Rachel had never been the jealous type before, and he didn’t know what to do. He needed a breather, and he thought she could do with one, too, though he wondered if she’d be even more fired up when he returned.
Trying not to second-guess himself, he climbed into his SUV and backed out of the driveway. It wasn’t far to the Returned and Services League. Even though he’d never been in the armed services himself, he had a cousin who was, and he made it a point of supporting the RSL as a minor way of supporting his cousin and others who served.
* * *
Charlie desperately scanned the nightclub, looking for some help. Jarrod had disappeared earlier after giving Charlie a wink and telling him he’d see him in the morning. Todd and Oliver were off somewhere with some girls they’d started chatting up, and the other guys had scattered soon after they had arrived. Charlie was hoping that some of them would still be in the nightclub.
With a sigh of relief, he spotted Dave chatting to a couple of young women. Moving as adroitly as possible across the crowded floor, he reached Dave and grabbed him by the arm. “Dave, it’s Ty! We’ve got to get him out of here!”
Dave frowned as he turned his attention from the two girls. “What’s he done?”
“Nothing yet, but he’s drunk and getting angrier by the second. He’s already starting to piss off people around him. It’s only a matter of time before he starts a fight. I tried to get him outside for some fresh air, but I can’t shift him by myself.”
Dave grimaced. He leant over and gave the closer girl a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.”
Charlie led Dave to where he’d left Ty, who was nowhere to be seen.
“Fuck!” Charlie started to scan the area but was interrupted by Dave who pointed to where two bouncers were moving towards the nearest exit.
Moving quickly, they caught the security staff and found them manhandling a struggling Ty.
“We’ll take care of him,” Charlie said.
The nearest bouncer gave Charlie and Dave a quick once over. “You can look after him outside. Don’t try to bring him back.”
Seconds later, Ty was ejected into the street. While Ty stumbled up against a streetlight, the two bouncers stared at Dave and Charlie. “You joining him?”
Dave glanced back into the nightclub. “Fuck, Charlie, I can’t leave...”
Charlie nodded and stepped outside. “I’ll look after it. You go back. See you later, Dave.” As the door behind him was being closed, he stepped over to where Ty was trying to stand upright.
“Fucking bastards! Fucking, fucking bastards!”
Charlie put a hand on Ty’s shoulder, only to have it shaken off immediately. “Ty, you need to calm down.”
“I don’t need to fucking calm down, and I don’t need to be fucking told what to do!” Ty stumbled along the street.
Charlie moved with him. “Why don’t we get some coffees?”
“Fuck off!”
“Ty, you’re in no state to go off by yourself.”
“Fuck off!”
“Ty...” Charlie tried to grab Ty’s arm, but his attempt was knocked away.
Before he could do anything else, Charlie found his shirt caught in two fists. Ty pulled him forward until they were nose to nose.
“I said, fuck off! I don’t need you, and I fucking well don’t want you hanging around!”
Ty shoved him hard enough that Charlie staggered back. Ty turned and stumbled off, leaving a worried Charlie behind.
- 23
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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