For the Love of Tennis | ✅

Chapter 30

I think my voice has left me.

The bees have gone too. Now my slim feels dead and cold. Lifeless.

“What?” I croak out.

“I remember his face,” Mum says again. “That”—she jerks a finger at him—“is the boy who rode the motorcycle that night.”

I turn to Amias. He’s staring at the floor, unable to meet my eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I remember her too.”

“How could you?” I growl. “You practically ran her over!”

He looks at me, helpless. “That was the night they were killed,” he bleats. “I was reckless, terrified. I would have done anything Gabe asked.”

I clench my jaw. “Gabe asked you to crash into her?”

“Gabe?” Mum roars. “Kylie’s chap?”

Amias turns to her. “I have so much to explain.”

“Fuck that! You’re not explaining anything!” She turns to me. “Chandy, you’re taking him outside and making sure he doesn’t return.”

I glance at her, then to Amias, then back to her again.

“No,” I say.

“Chandy, you—”

“No, Mum.” I squeeze Amias’ hand, hoping to provide him comfort. “At least give him a chance to explain. Then I can decide whether I still want him or not.”

Mum grits her teeth. I know it’s hard for her to think straight when she’s angry.

“Okay,” she says with a sigh of relent. Then she takes a seat at the table. “Fire away.”

Amias takes a cautious seat as though he thinks the chair will bite his ass. I set the roses on the table in between us. Mum glances at them but doesn’t comment.

“Right, what do you have to say?”
Amias takes in a deep breath and then he begins.

“First up, to bluntly say it, I’m in gang.”

Mum examines her cuticles. “Figured.”

Then he goes on to tell the story of his parents. Mum looks paler by the end but she still manages to compose herself.

“That first night, Gabe had gotten an assignment from one of his clients. So, as well as telling me to drive down the street, he said I had to crash into someone. A woman would be coming out of a pub and all I had to do was hit her at full speed as she crossed the road.”

“That was me,” Mum says pointedly.

Amias nods sadly.

“Carry on.”

He raises his head. “Well I think you know what happened, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what happened afterwards.”

“Gabe came, led me away. Then the ambulance arrived and we’d cleared everything up by that point. We hid behind some dumpsters and Gabe clapped me on the back, told me well done.” He looks up and locks my mother’s eyes with his. “But I couldn’t stop looking at you lying on that stretcher. And then I noticed your daughter came too but she was too far away to see properly.” He swallows. “Gabe told me that the client was happy with the result. He’d seen it all from the pub.”

“Client?” Mum asks, voice shaking. “Someone paid for you to do that to me? It wasn’t a freak accident?”

Amias nods his head.

“And who’s the client?” Mum demands. “Who?”

I place my hand on the nape of neck, knead my fingers through his baby hairs. “Who?” I prompt.

“The same man who owns that salon.” He sniffs. “Andre Arenas.”

Mum clenches her fists.

“That bastard!” she roars.

“He was in the pub with you,” Amias continues. “And he got pissed about something, that’s all Gabe told me.”

“It was mother’s day,” Mum says. “He’d asked me out for a few drinks. I said no. He persisted, then got pissed when I still refused. And then he said he needed to call someone.”

“He called Gabe,” Amias confirms. “He probably said he wanted you hurt, so Gabe saw grieving me as an opportunity. Otherwise he would have done it himself.”

Before Mum can reply, Amias’ phone begins to ring. He glances at us.

“Take it,” Mum tells him with a growl.

He takes the call, not looking at the screen as though he knows who it is.

“Yes?” he asks.

There’s a murmur. Amias’ face turns into one of horror.

“No!” he roars. “Do not come here!”

Another murmur. He clenches his jaw.

“I swear if you come here and do anything I’ll personally—”

He stops dead. It’s obvious the other person has hung up.

“That was Gabe,” he says, resting the phone on the table. “He’s coming here and he’s livid.”