Chapter 81 Chapter 81 The Devil
Coach and the medic argue quietly about sending me to the hospital. Their voices blur together, but I catch enough to know they think I’m done. I breathe through the pain and push myself up slightly, refusing to lie there like I’m broken.
“Pop that shit back in! NOW!!!”
They both look at me like I’ve completely lost my mind.
“You are done for today, Elle. You can’t go back in. This will take at least six weeks to heal,” the medic says firmly.
“Pop it back and wrap me up. I am going to kill her!” I snap, my voice sharp with determination. I am not staying on the sideline. I am not done.
He shakes his head but places his hands on either side of my knee anyway. I bite down hard on my hand, already knowing it’s going to bruise. My vision goes black for a second, tears flooding back as the pain spikes—but then it’s over. My kneecap slides back into place where it belongs.
I suck in a shaky breath.
He gives me a steroid injection and wraps my knee tight. I sit up slowly, letting my legs dangle off the table. The second I slide off and my foot touches the ground, the pain surges back like a wave.
It feels like my whole leg has been shoved into lava.
For a second, I can’t even tell if it’s still there. I glance down just to make sure.
Still attached.
Barely.
I take a deep breath. Janet hands me a bottle of water. I take a sip, then dump the rest over my head, letting it drip down my face and neck. I stand up fully and shift my weight onto my injured leg.
Pain.
Blinding, sharp, immediate.
I take a step anyway. Then another.
I bounce on it three times, shaking out my whole body like I can physically throw the pain off me. It throbs, pulses, burns—but I can handle it. I hop a few more times.
I want back in.
“Coach, put me back in!”
He hesitates. I can see it all over his face—he knows he shouldn’t. He knows this is a bad idea.
I don’t care.
I’m going to take her out.
That was a dirty hit, and I don’t give a damn if we got a goal out of it. In the short time I was off the field, they scored twice. My team’s energy has dropped. We’re still ahead, but they’re slowing down.
They need me.
“Go!” he finally says, calling Tracy back out.
I don’t wait. I run onto the field, slapping hands as I pass my teammates. They chant “Devil” under their breath so they don’t get in trouble.
I glance at Mia and give her a slow, sinister smile. I nod once.
She knows exactly what we’re doing.
Bianca steals the ball from midfield and passes to Tiana. Mia and I sprint alongside her while Yesenia drops back.
And then I see her.
The blonde.
Tiana passes to Mia. Mia sends it to me. I keep the ball just out of reach, moving fast, controlling it tight. The blonde comes at me, but I keep pushing forward, then pass it back to Mia.
She kicks it up high.
I jump.
I go for the header—but this time I slam straight into the blonde. I angle my head differently so I don’t black out again, using the top of my skull to drive the ball.
It ricochets off me. Mia grabs it, but we miss the goal.
Doesn’t matter.
The blonde is on the ground, clutching her head.
She’s crying.
Good.
The refs call it clean, even with their coach screaming from the sidelines.
Adrenaline floods me, numbing everything. I can’t even feel my knee anymore.
Perfect.
I hop myself out of the game and collapse onto the ground.
Coach sends Tracy back in. The medic rushes over and straps a brace onto my leg while I lie there, arms covering my face, chest heaving.
“Dimitri, you two can’t be here!” Coach Jones barks.
I don’t need to look to know Dimitri and Ivan have jumped down from the stands.
They say something to him—low, quick—and somehow, he lets them stay.
Figures.
I feel them kneel down on either side of me. Ivan gently pulls my arms away from my face.
“You okay, Dushichka?” he asks, his voice tight with worry. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He helps me sit up, and before I can say anything, he leans in and kisses me.
And I let him.
Because I love the asshole.
Because some part of me still wants him to be my boyfriend.
He tastes so good.
For a second, I want to deepen the kiss—but then reality hits me like a slap.
Shit.
Grant is probably watching.
I pull away, even though Ivan keeps one arm around me, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back.
The final whistle blows.
Game over.
We win.
The stands flood onto the sideline. Dimitri and Ivan help me to my feet—well, mostly Ivan, since I’m balancing on one leg and leaning heavily into him.
“You are such a badass!” Sal says, practically glowing as Arno and Leo crowd in beside him. Matteo and Can follow, then Jax pops his head in, Christian with an arm slung around him, and then Illia Sr. and Jr.
“What are you guys all doing here?” I ask, half laughing.
“We had to come support you!” Illia Jr. says. “No fucking wonder you handed us our asses in Spain. You are amazing!”
“Okay, okay, chill out. I’m alright,” I laugh, shaking my head.
Behind me, my girls start chanting “Devil” again.
I can’t help but smile.
“That speech!” Illia Sr. adds.
“It was only meant for my team…” I start, but I don’t get to finish.
Ryan barrels into me, launching himself into my arms. I somehow manage to catch him and stay upright.
“Elle, are you okay? How will you make me more pancakes?” he asks, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. He smells like buttery popcorn.
“Who is this little guy?” Ivan asks, staring at me like I’ve just handed him a fantasy he shouldn’t be imagining.
“Ryan???” Grant’s voice cuts through the noise.
“I’m Ryan,” he announces loudly. “Elle makes the best pancakes. Her and Dad have sleepovers.”
Silence.
My face burns red instantly.
There is absolutely no recovering from that.
Everyone is staring at me.
It was one time. One time. And he makes it sound like a whole damn routine.
Yesenia swoops in and grabs Ryan from my arms. “That’s right—and we’ll have a sleepover too next weekend. We babysit for Mr. Matthews!”
Nice try.
No one looks convinced.
I just nod like an idiot while Grant mouths, We need to talk!
Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in trouble with my dad?
The medic steps in, cutting through the tension, and hands me a pair of crutches.
“You need to follow up with a doctor when you get home,” he says.
I nod.
“Stay off it until further notice. No bending it.”
Yeah.
We’ll see about that.