"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He groaned and wiped his hand over his face, resting his arm over his eyes.
"Cade, you'll be right, mate. You did it," Matt said. The team captain leaned over him, grinning. "We won, mate. I'll catch up with you soon."
"Just make sure you convert that damned goal," Cade said before his voice wavered as another wave of pain hit. "Make it worth the bloody pain."
"Done. Listen for the roar of the crowd as they take you into the locker room." Matt ran off to set up the ball.
"Cade, mate, listen." The doctor leaned over him. "I need you to tell me where it hurts."
"Fucked my leg…ahh…not sure where. It’s burning." The sweat ran into Cade’s eyes and he wiped his hand across his face as he grunted.
"Right, let’s splint it, just in case." The doctor guided the paramedics to strap Cade’s leg to minimise movement. "This is going to hurt, mate, but it can't be helped. We’ve got to get you onto the stretcher." He nodded at the paramedics. "On my count—one, two, three, lift."
Cade gritted his teeth as they worked together to lift him. His vision wavered but he managed to hold in his cries of pain, with three people holding him in place on the cart. The jolt as the cart started shot new pain to his leg. Cade groaned and turned his head sideways, his stomach rolling. If he was going to vomit, it wouldn't be over his shirt. With each metre of space covered, the ruts in the ground vibrated through his body. The sweat rolled down his forehead and pooled in his eye sockets making his vision disappear and clear with each blink.
The faces of the crowd blurred as Cade lifted his hand to wave. At least forty thousand members filled the stadium and their voices roared as he was driven through the tunnel to the locker room. Silence fell and in his mind, Cade pictured Matt taking the kick. The crowd went wild.
"Good job Matt, good job," Cade muttered.
"You set it up, Cade. You did well, mate."
He tried to smile at the team doctor but the pain was too much. At what cost though.
Chapter 2
Across town, Cade's brother, Doctor Russ Williams rubbed his hand over his face, thankful his office door was closed. Another screaming phone call from Paula was all he needed to make his day. His soon to be ex-wife was determined to drain his bank account of every last cent she could lay her hands on. She told him it was payback for not being the husband she’d hoped he would be.
He’d signed over their townhouse just so he could walk away and put his marriage behind him. Paula had been his soul mate, or so he thought at the time. They met in his last year at med school and clicked instantly.
It wasn't until after they were married, he found out it was what he could offer her that mattered the most. She was determined to marry for money and with his family’s land investments, she thought she was onto a winner with Russ.
Russ leaned back in his chair, his gaze going to the painting of a country scene on the wall. The rolling hills and gum trees took him back to his last visit home.
* * *
"If you want to leave behind what I’ve worked my arse off to give you ungrateful kids, you are on your own. You won't get a penny from me." Russ's father stormed out, leaving him standing in the front drawing room.
"You know your father loves you, Russ. It’s a great disappointment to him that you won't take over the farm," his mother said as she walked into the room.
"He knows I want to be a doctor, Mother. He knew all along. Why wait until now to tell me how he’s disowning me?" Russ knew his father was a hard man but he had never tried to talk him out of his dream.
"I know, Russ but I think deep down he thought it was just a young man's dream and you would come around eventually. You have farming blood in your veins but that doesn't mean you have to be a farmer like your father." She walked over and slipped her arm through his, guiding him to the green button-patterned leather couch. Drawing him down, she settled beside him. "Don't let go of your dream if that’s what you want. Go and study. Your father will survive."
"I don't want to let you down, Mother. I don't think I could stand it if you were disappointed in me too."
"Oh Russ, always the peacemaker." She kissed his cheek and the smell of her violet perfume filled his nostrils. "Do what feels right for you. Your father will survive, I'm sure."
"He's cutting me off." He looked around the room and wondered how he would cope living away from all of this. He gazed through the open French windows at the manicured front lawns and circular driveway. The fabulous house he’d grown up in, wide open spaces of the family farm, and the restaurant quality meals their housekeeper cooked would soon be a thing of the past.
"I know, but you can always use your grandmother’s trust fund. I'll clear it with the lawyers so you can dip into it for your school fees and rent." She squeezed his shoulder.
"Won't Father try and stop you doing that? I know how he feels about us saving everything we get."
"Since it was my mother that left you children the funds, it is mine to supervise however I see fit. Your father has never questioned how I run things in that respect."
"Thanks, Mother. You’re amazing."
"No, my darling boy, you are and don't let this hold you back. Your father will come around."
*
