Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

TATE

T he locker room is tense, even though the guys are wisecracking and joshing each other. I sit on my own on one of the benches, Lily’s words revolving around in my head. ‘Play the best you can and enjoy every minute. It’s only a game.’ She really meant it.

‘You okay?’ asks Blake, flopping down beside me. He’s trying to pretend that he’s cool but none of us are. This is the game of our lives.

‘Sure.’

‘You’re an idiot, you know that.’ Blake folds his arms and gives me a superior cocky look.

‘And this is based on…?’

‘Why the hell haven’t you told her you love her?’ Blake stares at me. The guy really is the closest thing I have to a brother, and while it’s tempting to tell him to fuck off, what’s the point.

‘Because…’

‘Because she sure as hell loves you. I’ve got eyes, you moron. You’re just going to let Lily walk out of your life?’

I look down, close my eyes for a second. ‘I tried… I told her I loved her.’

‘You did?’

I nod. ‘But I guess I said it at the wrong time, because it didn’t make any difference.’

‘Words,’ said Blake. ‘Sometimes you’ve got to back up the “I love you” words with actions.’

I frown. ‘You mean?—’

‘I mean. You’ve got to prove you love Lily, not just say it.’

‘It’s too late. She’s leaving after the match,’ I say.

‘You know, there’s this amazing technology these days that means these giant metal birds– airplanes, I think they’re called– can take off and fly in the sky… all the way over the Atlantic. All you need to do is buy a ticket.’ Blake scratches at his chin in an annoyingly infantile way. ‘I mean, with your money, you could probably charter your own.’

‘You’re hilarious, you know that.’

‘It’s a talent.’ His face turns serious, then, and he grabs my arm. ‘Tate, make a decision now. Then you can stop thinking about it during the game. You’re either going to go after her or leave it, but it’s your choice. Take control for yourself.’

I clap him on the back because right there, he’s right. It’s all so simple. It’s like the sun coming out after a day of rain. I grin at him.

‘I’m going after her. She’s not running out on me,’ I say, with more certainty than I’ve ever felt. I’ve been accusing Lily of running away, but I’ve been running away, too, in the opposite direction. I need to give chase, show her I’m serious. Like I should have done the first time.

‘Great,’ says Blake. ‘Now, get your head in the fucking zone. We’ve got a football game to win.’

And it is great. Decision made, I already feel calmer and I’m ready to get out on the pitch and ‘enjoy every minute’.

* * *

Time is ticking and there’s only half an hour before we have to be on the field for the national anthem. Winston, Shane and Tierney come into the locker room with Coach and his team for one last pep talk. I scan the group for Lily, even though there’s no way I’m going to get the chance to talk to her.

Winston, Tierney and Coach separate and huddle together in the office next door. I watch them through the doorway, curious about the furtive air about them. They’re talking in anxious whispers, their hands gesticulating frequently and there’s lots of head shaking.

‘Where’s Lily– Miss Heath?’ I ask Shane, who is standing nearby.

Shane, who is normally imperturbable, scowls. ‘She’s gone to find Winston’s wife.’

I smile. Of course, she is. Lily is nothing if not tenacious. She’s been looking for Pammie all week, although she didn’t say why. I admire her for her thoroughness and determination. She is loyal, fierce and strong. She’s amazing.

‘Yeah, Pammie and her douchebag boyfriend are here in the stadium,’ adds Shane, glancing anxiously over at Winston, Tierney and Coach. Winston is on his phone and so is Tierney.

‘So what’s the problem with Pammie?’ I ask, following his gaze.

Shane’s mouth flattens and he hesitates. ‘Lily thinks Sven is planning something here. Her boss has been onto Homeland security and the CIRG are holding a meeting right now, trying to decide whether or not to evacuate the stadium or not.’

‘Evacuate the stadium. You’re kidding.’

‘I wish I was. There’s a possibility that Sven is an alias and could be a known bomb-maker. But no one can come up with any evidence to prove it. At the moment, it’s pure supposition. There’s a lot resting on the game, so there’s a lot of people fighting hard for their corner and equally people fighting hard for public safety. It’s one hell of a hot potato. I’m glad I’m not having to make the call.’

I stare at him. Too stunned to say a word.

‘As an added complication, the CCTV system has gone down, so no one knows where Pammie and Sven are.’

‘Or Lily?’ My limbs seem to freeze. Losing the CCTV sounds like too much of a coincidence to me. Surely that was a red flag. Lily certainly would have thought so.

‘She was headed up to the management suite about ten minutes ago because that’s where Pammie and Sven were last seen.’

I look at the door out of the locker room and stand abruptly. ‘I gotta go.’

‘Go where?’

‘The john,’ I say, pleased with my quick thinking. ‘Nerves getting the better of me.’

‘All of us,’ said Shane, with a sympathetic smile. ‘I’d better go over and find out what the latest is. And Tate, keep this between us, I only told you because you asked about Lily. I should have been more discreet. Don’t give it another thought. In another half hour you’ll be out there on the field singing your guts out to “The Star-Spangled Banner”.’ He nudges me in the arm.

I nod but my mind is shooting off on another tangent altogether. I have to find Lily. She was so sure that Pammie held the key to things, and I trust Lily’s instincts. She saved my life, not just by getting us out of that car, but also by telling me to swim away from where it went in. If I hadn’t, whoever was out there would have picked me off. Fuck, I love the woman. The thought of anything happening to her…

I leave the locker room in the direction of the restrooms and find Blake in there. Shit.

‘Where you going?’ he asks.

‘I’ve got to find Lily.’

‘Now? The game starts in less than half an hour. Coach will kill you.’

‘I have to find Lily, Blake. I think she’s in danger.’

‘And the game?’ Blake’s face is a mixture of apprehension and admiration.

‘Fuck the game.’ I yank open the back door and start jogging down the hallway. No one is going to stop me. I’m going to find Lily.

I attract quite a few startled stares as I barrel past the security people and the marshals. Fans stare at me, open-mouthed, quite a few try to high-five me.

I’m heading towards the main escalator when the fire alarm starts shrieking and a voice comes over the Tannoy.

Please evacuate the building via the nearest exit.

The escalator. Staff start pointing to the exits and gather at the bottom of the escalator which has now slowed and stopped. People turn around and start walking back down.

‘Out of my way,’ I say as I push past them. I get to the top and a security guard bars my way. ‘You have to leave the building, sir.’

I shake my head and barge past him, sprinting to the staircase, fighting my way through the tide of people, all of them telling me I’m going the wrong way, then staring after me. I can hear the questions as I fly by.

‘That’s Tate Donaghue.’

‘What’s he doing?’

‘Where’s he going?’

The crowd thins with each level of the stadium. I’m grateful for the signs directing me to the Management Suite and when I reach the final floor, equally grateful for the hard yards I’ve put in in the gym and out on the field, it’s deserted.

I try to think what Lily would do. This is her field of expertise. She’d be methodical and leave nothing to chance. Nor would she advertise her presence, I remember her stealthy approach in my apartment corridor before the firebomb, and my heart does that miss-a-beat thing. I remember so many things about Lily, so many things I love. And I might not get to tell her. The fire alarm is still deafening, the shrill scream piercing my skull.

I work my way along the corridor, peering through the windows of the offices, all of which are in darkness, though there’s enough ambient light to see if there’s anyone inside. I reach the fifth one down and I can’t see anyone, but suddenly there’s an excited yip and I see Teddy jumping on the desk, barking furiously at me.

I push open the door and the dog bounds forward, jumping around my ankles with feverish excitement before taking off through the open door. It’s only then that I spot the woman lying on the floor, chained to a pipe on the wall.

‘Lily!’ Fuck she’s bleeding, there’s blood all over one side of her face.

I bend, taking her hand and feeling her pulse. Weak, but still there. Her eyes open and she groans slightly, then attempts to sit up.

‘Tate…’ She focuses on me. ‘What are you doing here? They’re… evacuating the building. You shouldn’t be here…’

‘What the fuck do you think I’m doing?’ I say, gripping hold of her hand, because I’m worried that my capable, gorgeous girl is going to lose it if I don’t act decisively and as if I have the first clue I know what the hell I’m doing.

I examine the chain holding her to the pipe.

‘What happened?’

She swallows. ‘Sven? God, I was so stupid. Pammie was here chained up, and then… he came up behind me. He hit me over the head, and while I was out, he chained me up and now she’s gone. I don’t know where he took her, she’s banged up pretty good.’

I nod, deciding not to tell her that she’s looking pretty banged up, too. The blood has matted a patch of hair on the top of her head. Instead, I wordlessly tug at the chain that’s looped around a pipe and padlocked to both of her hands. I can see that her wrists are raw and bloody where she’s tried to pull the pipe away from its fixings and I wince.

Lily’s mouth tightens. ‘Sven’s set the time to blow during “The Star-Spangled Banner”. Tate, you’ve still got time to get out. Please. There’s nothing you can do here.’

‘Fuck that,’ I tell her. ‘You think I’m going to leave you.’

Her eyes are pinned on me, wide with terror. ‘We’re right at the epicentre of the bomb… It’s through there.’ She indicates the office next door.

I put my hands on the pipe and yank as hard as I can, but it’s going nowhere. But neither am I. I pick up one of the chairs and slide the metal legs behind the pipe to use as a lever, but it’s no good. Then I examine either end of the pipe where it goes through the walls.

Lily is silently watching me, her lip caught between her teeth, and I can see the tears shining in her eyes.

‘Please go, Tate.’

‘Lily, like I’m going to do that. I love you and I’m not going anywhere.’

‘If you loved me, you would,’ she says, and I stop and stare at her.

‘Emotional blackmail is not going to work,’ I say, trying for humour because I know she’s scared. ‘I’m not leaving you. I ran out on you twice before. This time I’m sticking.’

‘This time, you’ll die. I don’t want you to die. I want you to go out and win the Superbowl.’

‘Lily, football is football, but you… If I don’t have you in my life, none of it is worth anything.’ As I’m saying all this, I’m still working at the pipe, but I know it’s futile. The chain is heavy-duty, with large links. I look around to see if there’s anything heavy to smash the padlock, but I can’t see anything.

‘Any suggestions?’ I ask.

‘Yes.’ There’s entreaty in her eyes. ‘Leave.’

‘Never happening. So, Plan B. You know how to defuse a bomb?’

Lily frowns, though I can see her brain springing into professional mode, like the all-action heroine she is. ‘Yes, in principle,’ she says. ‘But I need to see it. And I need some tools. A screwdriver, a pair of snips, although scissors would do. It depends on the complexity of the bomb.’

‘What if I described it.’

‘Tate, I’m not sure?—’

‘I don’t see there’s any other choice. If only I’d brought my phone. Fuck.’

‘I have mine.’ She nods down at her feet.

‘What?’

‘In one of my boots.’ She wiggles her foot. ‘Don’t ask.’

I pull the boot off and the phone drops to the floor with a thud. I hold it up to her face to open it up. And because I can’t help myself, I lean in to kiss her. A swift, heartfelt kiss full of promises for the future. We are going to have a future. I refuse to believe that we’re not going to get our happy ending.

I run to the room next door and it’s not difficult to find– the bomb is sitting under the desk, the countdown lights winking like they do in every action thriller you ever see.

‘Take pictures of everything you can see,’ Lily calls.

I take several photos, including some close-ups, and run back to her.

Like every bloody disaster-film cliché, the clock is counting down and we’ve got nine minutes.

I hold the phone up and she studies the images, her brow furrowed in concentration.

‘Nine minutes,’ she says. ‘Bags of time.’

‘God, I love you.’

She chokes out a very small laugh. ‘You can do a lot in nine minutes.’

‘Well, when we get out of here. You can show me,’ I tell her. ‘In the meantime, talk me through it.’

‘Can you focus on the section to the right of the time? The wires there.’ She frowns as I do so. ‘Now scroll down.’

Studying the picture, she tilts her head to try and get a better view. ‘I need you to zoom in on those wires, and if you can, without touching it, take a shot of the side view of where the wires go into that box, as close as you can get.’

‘Coming up,’ I say and run back towards the bomb. ‘Is it a big one?’ I ask, horrified by the plastic-wrapped grey bundles surrounding the timer, which I’ve already photographed.

‘Mmm,’ she replies. ‘Do you want the good news or the bad news?’

‘Bad first.’

‘It’s a very big bomb.’

‘And the good.’

‘If it goes off neither of us will know a thing about it.’

‘We’d better make these last eight minutes count, then.’

There’s a silence as I take the picture she asked for.

When I return, her face is soft and her eyes a little luminous. I don’t need the words I can see it in her face as she studies me as if she’s trying to memorise my features. ‘Now’s probably a good time to tell you that I love you. I never got over you. No one has ever measured up since.’ She lifts her bound hands, but the chain pulls them tight. ‘I want to touch you. Your face.’

I swallow. I can’t bear this but I’m not giving up. Not yet. ‘We’re not dying today.’

But at what point do I make the call to spend our last minutes together. At five minutes. At four. At three. At two. One?

And I realise it makes no difference, there’s never going to be enough time for us.

I hold the phone screen up for her and she leans forward studying the new picture, chewing at her lip.

‘Okay. There’s some scissors on the desk. You see the black wire there. That’s the one you need to cut.’ She frowns. ‘It’s a very simple circuit. Either Sven didn’t expect it to be found or… there’s a very clever booby trap in there that I can’t see.’

‘So, once I cut that, that’s it.’

Taking a big breath before she speaks, she says, ‘That’s it, either the clock stops or…’

I put the phone down and lean in to kiss her.

‘Or I need to make the next seven minutes count.’

She lets out a painful half laugh. ‘You going down to the wire, then?’

‘Fuck, that’s terrible.’

‘I know. Gallows humour.’ She smiles sadly up at me. ‘We really made a mess of things, didn’t we?’

‘Well, I’m going to spend the rest of my lifetime, making it up to you.’

We both laugh this time. She pulls at the chains again and I lower my face so she can run her fingers along my cheekbones, across my eyelids and then to my lips.

‘You’re a beautiful man. Inside and out.’

I kiss her fingers, I can’t speak.

A tear slips down her face. ‘We wasted so much time. And all for nothing.’

I swipe my finger along the trail of her tear, my heart hurting because I want more than this. I lie down next to her and take her in my arms. We stare into each other’s eyes, and I kiss her, barely grazing her lips because she’s so precious to me. I trace her face with my hands trying to absorb a lifetime of love in the few minutes we may have.

The moment is too big, it’s as if we’re teetering on the edge of our own personal black hole. My heart expands as I look at her beautiful face.

‘I love you,’ I tell her one last time. ‘So much.’

She nods and I can see in her eyes the words she wants to speak, but she’s too choked up to get them out.

I check the time on her phone. Four minutes left. It’s a lifetime. With one final kiss, I force myself to my knees and stand up.

I take the scissors out of the pen pot on the desk and the Stanley knife also lying in the desk tidy.

She gives me a tremulous smile. ‘I love you right back. For the rest of my life.’

I swallow and give her one last look and cross the few feet through to the office next door. My hands are sweating, and I pray I can keep them steady enough to cut through the wire and that there is no booby trap.

I lift the scissors with trembling hands and manoeuvre them into position, sliding the wire along the blades as far as I can. I glance back through the doorway. I can’t see Lily’s face, just her legs. I close my eyes and pray like never before, then I squeeze the handles of the scissors to close the blades.