BREAKAWAY

Chapter Nine - Edited

Mr Blackbourne's POV:

"Go ahead and get changed, your mother is here to pick you up." I said, watching the small girl in my arms tense at the mention of her abuser, and I wish I could fix all of her problems.

"If you need to get out, call us." Sean said, looking her in the eyes and grasping on to her hands. "Do you promise?"

She hesitated only a moment before nodding. "I promise." She said, quietly but firmly, and I believed her.

"Is it safe for you to take another couple of these cereal bars home with you?" Sean asked, holding the rest of the box out to her with a questioning eyebrow lift.

She shook her head, and my heart sank. She needed more food than she was getting. She was an athlete, and should eat more than a normal teenage girl anyway because of that, but it looked as if she wasn't even getting nearly enough for a normal fourteen year old girl.

"My mother is... Curious." She said, with a wry, watery smile. "She likes to go through my stuff." She added, as she stood up on wobbly legs and left to go and get changed, looking back at us with a longing look before she disappeared entirely.

"Doesn't matter." I said, accepting the hand Sean offered me to get up off the ground. "We see her nearly every day, we'll feed her here."

Sean nodded as he tidied his work station. I left him to it, heading to the side of the rink to dismiss the boys, glad to see that Kota had led them through some strategies while I'd been gone, which had ended up being about half an hour.

As we all liked into the van to go home, I called another impromptu team meeting. The boys' new opinions on Sang seemed to be unanimously good. They observed how much more confident she was without her mother watching her, and how she was our secret weapon for nationals this year.

"I would like to know your opinions on me asking for the adoption of Sang. I know Dr Roberts will help the papers go through." I said, a little bit nervous about how they would react. Obviously, it would be a while before we could get it legal, and then we'd have to try and get Ms Sorenson out of the way, but I have a plan.

They looked at me, shocked into speechlessness, except Sean, who'd known about this plan being something I had been considering and whom was also driving.

"Well?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised. Would they say something already? They liked Sang, did this mean that they didn't want her to be their sister? Between Sean and I we had legal custody of many of the boys, this was hardly any different.

"I am willing and I will obey." Sean said, starting off the entire train of the silly agreement phrase we'd created when we first became a team.

"I am fucking willing and I will motherfucking obey."

"I am damn willing and I will obey."

"I am willing and I will obey."

"I am also willing and I will obey."

"I am willing and I will obey."

"I am willing and I will obey."

"I am willing and I will obey."

I smiled just a tiny bit. "I am willing and will obey." I murmured, to complete the routine and seal our agreement on the subject. "Dismissed." I said, turning round quickly so that nobody could see the emotions that were flitting across my face.

Sean shot me a knowing look and a smirk, but nobody else noticed because they were busy fighting over whose turn it was to play the music.

I sighed, composing myself before stopping the argument. "I believe that it is Mr Luke Taylor's turn." I said, checking the schedule that I'd just pulled up on my phone.

There were collective groans, and a cheer from the elder Taylor brother, who grabbed the auxiliary cord and pressed 'shuffle play' on his Spotify playlist, settling down happily while everybody else stuffed fingers in their ears to avoid listening to another rendition of 'The Candy Man Can' from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory.

I used to like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but not any more...

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Sang's POV:

I was jittery and nervous the whole car ride home, worried that my mother would be able to tell that I'd seen a doctor and eaten something, but she seemed to be too concentrated on telling me what an ungrateful child I was, which was nothing new.

Her words were slurred, and she kept screaming profanities at other drivers. Her driving was worse that normal, she was drifting out of lanes, swerving suddenly and forgetting to indicate.

I prayed that she wasn't driving drunk, but realistically I knew she was. It brought back bad memories, and I tried to focus on the bags next to me in the back seat, supposedly full of my new team kit.

The sight made a swirl of emotions tingle in my belly, and I could barely keep the happiness off of my face.

In front of my mother I pretended to mildly dislike hockey, since it was something she'd forced me into originally, and it was mere coincidence that I'd loved it the second that I stepped on the ice.

If my mother knew I liked it so much, she would take it away, like she had with school and my friends and my beautiful bedroom in our old house.

My mother had this idea in her head that I'd become a famous hockey player, and she wanted that kind of recognition and money. She didn't care what she had to do to me to get it.