The Balls in Our Courts [F.SxO.CxT.S]

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: Wow, 4.1k views?! Oof! Thank you so much for all the votes, views, and comments. I am a little nervous with the Wattpad purge, so if you have left a comment and vote, please consider going to Ao3 and leaving one there as well. Just in case this ever gets deleted. It is under the same title and the username is the same. :) You can do so as a guest. 

TW: Tommy is an ass and there's blood.

In Tommy's eyes, if she had room to make mistakes, she had no room to play around with boys. Even if that boy was Finn. Spitefully, he increased her training against Dante's orders. Some nights she wouldn't come home until late, late evening, exhausted and completely dehydrated. Due to over practicing, her conditioning was severely impacted. But Tommy didn't care. She begged him until her voice was hoarse and eyes were so red from tears. It was one particular evening that she was in his office, on her knees, pleading with him. I'm in pain...I'm tired. Tommy's eyes peered down at her, scoff in his throat. She'd gripped his leg, resting her forehead on his knee. A little sobbing mess. His deal was, win in Leeds and we'll revisit your training schedule. There was no way around it. Most days he picked her up from school and stayed at the court. Except the day before her competition in Leeds. John picked her up and immediately saw a ghost in place of a girl. "Bloody fuckin' 'ell, 'Melia," John said, mouth ajar in shock. "Love, you been sleepin' at all?" He was well aware of his brother's madness.

She looked over at him, once a spunky girl now defeated. "John...I'm so exhausted. I failed my math test and forgot about my English homework...again! I can't...I fucking can't. I have no time to sleep, eat...I have no fucking time to breathe! He doesn't let me breathe. Anytime I sit, he's there, looking over me." John hugged the girl as if she was his own daughter, cradling as she sobbed. It was one of those dry heaving sobs. "I can't!" she screamed. "I want to go home...I want to go home."

He decided then and there she wasn't going to practice. There was no fuckin' way. John nodded, and drove by the court telling Dante that she needed rest. In which the young coach responded with a sigh of relief. "C'mon, Amelia," he said, smiling. "I'll take you back to my house. Esme made some stew...I'll set up one of the girl's beds for you can take a nap."

It was like Christmas. Katie allowed Amelia her bed, but mostly because she was intrigued by the girl. All she was ever around was family, and so while Esme worked at the stove, Katie watched the tired girl try to sleep. In the kitchen, Esme stirred the pot, looking over her shoulder. John had been rubbing his temples, nursing a drink and smoking a chain of cigarettes since he walked in. "Am I allowed to ask?" she inquired.

"You're going to anyway." He pushed the cigarette dead in the ashtray, and looked up at her. "I just wanted her to sleep. Nearly had a breakdown in the car-"

"From school?" she asked, but John quickly corrected her.

"He's gone mad, Esme. I don't know what's gone through my brother's head, but it's different, he's different. And he takes it out on everyone. I mean look at her," he said. "She practices until the late evening, seven days a week-"