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FORTY SEVEN: CHELSEA DAGGER

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Stamford Bridge wasn't unfamiliar territory to Billie Kent, it was a place she had seen her brother triumph and fail on the pitch, when she was a young girl, who idolised her brother, because he was the closest thing she had to a father, and in her eyes he could do no wrong.

And then she began dating Brad when she was nineteen, and when she wasn't in Manchester for university, she was up in the box with the rest of the girlfriends and wives, or as the tabloids called them, 'wags.'

It was her relationship with Brad that tarnished her memories of that stadium, those memories of being a kid, walking onto the pitch with her brother at the last home match of each season faded into insignificance, replaced and tainted by her experiences with Brad.

The days when his agent would encourage her to attend a match to protect Brad's image after yet another photo of him and another girl appeared in the press weighed heavy on her mind. But she was naive and inexperienced, so she just did what the big boys in suits told her to, she signed the NDAs, she plastered on a smile, and she acted like the proud doting girlfriend.

"You okay, Bils?" Jamie nudged Billie as the pair followed the rest of the team out of the locker room, headed for the iconic Stamford Bridge pitch where they would be warming up ahead of kick off.

"Yeah..." Billie's voice trailed off as she laid eyes on the mural printed on the wall, Brad lifting the Champions League trophy in 2021, alongside Kai Havertz, Reece James and Mason Mount. The picture was printed beside a similar image from the 2012 Champions League final, depicting Roy, alongside Ashley Cole and Frank Lampard.

"Hey," Jamie hummed, wrapping his arms around Billie, because he knew her, and he knew that even though those scars were healed, they were still there, and every so often, someone would come along and put pressure on them, reminding her that they may have healed, but they could still hurt, "You're okay."

"I am," Billie muttered, resting her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his torso, because she really didn't want to let go, and she desperately didn't want to see Brad, "Or, I will be."

"If you want to sit this one out up in the box with Keeley, Rebecca and Higgins, I can give Will your camera," Jamie assured her, not that he thought she wasn't up to it, he'd just move heaven and earth to keep her happy.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Billie sighed, "But thank you."

"It's okay, Kent," Jamie smiled, letting go of her as he cupped her jaw, "We're okay."

"We're better than okay," Billie grinned.

"We're award winning," Jamie laughed, quoting one of the many One Direction music videos that Billie had encouraged him to watch.

"I'd kiss you if we were on Richmond turf, you know that, Tartt?" Billie smiled up at him, unphased by the doubts that had plagued her mind moments before.

"I do," Jamie nodded, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, placing a quick kiss to the top of her head, "That'll do for now."

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you back here any time soon," A familiar American voice had Billie recoiling into Jamie's side, his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulder as she stood beside him, "Either of you."

"Brad." Billie muttered with a civil smile.

"It's good to see you," Brad smirked, looking between the pair of them, "Both of you."

"Wish we could say the feeling was mutual but that would be a lie," Jamie scoffed, eyeing the photo of Roy on the wall, Roy who would have no qualms battering Brad then and there.

"Jamie, why don't you go and join the team?" Billie smiled half heartedly, attempting to avoid any pre-match disputes, "You need to warm up before you play."

"I ain't leaving you with him, Bils," Jamie assured her, because he knew what Brad was like, and he knew that Billie didn't need him getting in her head, unsettling all the work she'd done to get herself to where she was.

"Jamie, it's fine," Billie squeezed his hand, "I'll be fine."

"Run along, Tartt," Brad smirked as Jamie let go of Billie, turning towards the pitch, but turning back to Brad at the sound of his grating American voice. If there were ever a time to channel Roy Kent, it was that moment, "Like a good little boy."

"I know you, Barker, don't forget that," Jamie warned, stepping in front of Brad, blocking his view of Billie, for the first time since they'd played against each other, Jamie was the most well built, with broader shoulders and stronger arms, his muscular physique easily overpowered Brad's, "See you on the pitch."

Jamie offered the man a patronising pat on the shoulder, turning to face Billie with a nod of reassurance as he wandered out onto the pitch to join his team.

"So, you and Tartt?"

"What about me and Tartt?" Billie crossed her arms, taking inspiration from Jamie's confidence.

"You think that'll last?" Brad scratched the stubble that covered his jaw.

"I do, because he's everything you weren't," She reminded him, "How is the love child?"

"She's just learnt to walk," Brad replied, "I don't see her much, I've been busy."

"A cheat and a deadbeat dad?" Billie scoffed, pitying the little girl who had no choice in who her father was, much like Billie's own childhood, "They sure did break the mold making you."

"You know I could go straight to the press about you and Jamie, don't you?" Brad was quick to reply.

"And why would you do that?" Billie rolled her eyes, "We both know you can't stand the thought of the attention being on anyone except you, nevermind your least favourite player in the league."

"What do your parents think of him?" Brad remarked, knowing that was a simple, yet effective way to get a rise out of Billie.

Billie clenched her fists by her sides, looking him up and down, hating that Brad knew how to get a rise out of her, "My parents barely think of me, they didn't think of you at all, but they think more of him than they did of you."

She didn't know if that was true, she didn't know what either of them thought of Jamie, she just knew that her dad wished she'd ended up with a West Ham player.

"I'll see you on the pitch."

The team were busy warming up on the pitch, stretching, passing the ball between themselves, taking in the atmosphere as the fans filled in the stadium seats.

It didn't take Jamie long to realise that Billie wasn't on the sidelines as he warmed up. He saw Brad, looking like his usual arrogant self as he warmed up alongside his teammates, but there was no sign of Billie. He felt in his gut that something was wrong, he knew and loved Billie, and she never missed warm ups.

He promptly turned to Colin who was standing beside him, mid-lunge, "I'll be back in a minute, mate."

"Everything okay?" Colin frowned, because it was undoubtedly odd for Jamie to just abandon his usual warmups.

"It will be," Jamie patted him on the shoulder before wandering off the pitch, offering Ted a nod that perhaps said everything that it needed to.

"Tartt," Roy approached Jamie at the tunnel entrance, "You should be on the pitch."

"There's somewhere I need to be," Jamie answered, just wanting to find Billie and put his mind at rest.

"What are you talking about?"

Jamie looked over his shoulder at Brad, who was standing in the middle of the pitch, hands on his hips as he laughed with one of the naive and newly graduated academy players, before turning back to Roy, "Ask him, if you want."

Without another word, Jamie made his way back down the corridor, heading for the players' area of the stadium. He didn't know where she might go if Brad had unsettled her, this wasn't Nelson Road, it wasn't home. It had also dawned on him that Stamford Bridge was no doubt tainted with memories that she wished she could forget.

He made his way around a corner, heading into the staff canteen which was the first door he came to. A quick look around the space told him what he assumed, she wasn't there.

After about ten minutes of searching different spaces, Jamie found himself approaching Richmond's team bus which was parked up at the back of the stadium. Kenneth was nowhere to be seen, no doubt he'd found himself a pub to sit in.

Jamie had checked pretty much everywhere, this was the only place he had left. He'd checked the locker room, the away team's treatment room, even Chelsea's boot room.

The bus door was unlocked, so he opened it and made his way up the steps, his heart weighing heavy when he laid eyes on Billie, sitting in one of the many seats. It was clear she'd been crying, and she was so transfixed on staring out the window, attempting to distract herself from whatever was plaguing her brain, she hadn't even noticed Jamie's presence.

"Thought I'd find you here," Jamie smiled sympathetically as he approached her tentatively, she jumped, clearly startled, not expecting to be disturbed.

"Shouldn't you be on the pitch?" Billie looked up at him with glossy eyes.

"They can manage without me," Jamie assured her, "We've still got about twenty minutes, wanted to make sure you're alright."

Jamie knew Billie, and he could tell that whatever storm she had just weathered, may have passed, but its repercussions were felt. She wasn't her usual self, she seemed hollow, she seemed lost.

And unfortunately, Jamie's predictions were correct, she'd found her way onto the team bus, because she was suffering from a panic attack, she hadn't known where to go, and that bus was the closest thing to home that Stamford Bridge could offer her.

"I'm fine," Billie gazed down at her hands as Jamie sat beside her.

"I know you, Billie Kent," Jamie offered her a gentle smile of reassurance, "Remember?"

"It's hayfever."

"Did he say something?" Jamie replied, unsure what to make of how guarded she seemed, "Because, I'll deal with him and take the fucking red card if he's upset you-"

"I was nineteen when I first signed an NDA," Billie sniffed, wiping her tear stained cheeks as she looked up at Jamie, "And the day after, I had to sit in the crowd and watch Brad kicking a ball around for ninety minutes."

Jamie interlocked his hand with Billie's because he knew that she just needed him to listen, not to tell her that he understood, because that felt disingenuous, because he himself had never experienced such a thing.

"I have never felt so fucking small," Billie whispered as Jamie squeezed her hand, "I know I'm not meant to talk about why I signed the NDA, but it's you and you already know me inside out."

The memories had haunted Billie since the day it happened, she hadn't told a soul, because she was legally bound not to. It didn't make it any easier, in fact it made the burden weigh heavier.

"I came back from Manchester to surprise him one weekend, and I let myself into his house, and there he was," Billie whispered, "Having a fucking threesome."

"Fuck."

"With his personal trainer and his trainer's wife," Billie completed the story.

While it wasn't the worst thing she could have come home to, it was shocking enough for a nineteen year old to see her boyfriend cheating on her with two other people. Brad was quick to get his lawyers involved, fearing that Billie might spill the truth, and being naive and in love, she didn't take too much persuasion to sign on the dotted line.

"A week later he was papped with another girl, kissing her outside a club," Billie whispered, "And the next day I was sat front and centre of the box where all the girlfriends used to sit, the press fucking loved it."

"Bils," Jamie soothed as he squeezed her hand, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"You're not the one who should be apologising, J," Billie sighed, "You're the one fixing something that you didn't break."

It hurt Jamie's heart to hear her talk like that, like Brad had damaged her, and he knew that in some ways he had, because Billie struggled to believe she deserved to be loved, she struggled to receive Jamie's compliments, she struggled to trust.

"I had a panic attack," Billie whispered, "That's why I came out here, I couldn't breathe in there, all those fucking pictures of Brad on the walls...it's bad enough when he's in my head, never mind everywhere I fucking look."

"I shouldn't have left you like that," Jamie sighed, hating that Billie had gone through that all by herself, "I would've stayed with you, Bils."

"You never have to face that alone again, alright?" He insisted, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, "You find a way to tell me if that happens again, I won't let you be alone."

Billie glanced down at her chipped green nails, "I don't want you to see me like that."

"I already see you in every way," Jamie insisted, kissing the top of her head, "A little extra can't hurt."

"You're a good man, Jamie Tartt," Billie hummed, unable to hide her smile, "But we should probably head in, won't have my brother sending out a search party looking for you."

"I know you're going to insist that you're fine, but I think you should sit this one out," Jamie whispered, "I don't want him getting in your head."

Billie knew better than to protest, because this was Jamie's way of protecting her. He might have imagined what it would be like to swing a punch at Brad, but he never intended on acting on it. As long as he had peace of mind that she was alright, that's what mattered.

Which is how they ended up walking down the steps of Rebecca's box, overlooking the pitch as Jamie took Billie's hand in his, leading her along the row towards Rebecca, Keeley and Higgins.

"Jamie, what are you doing up here?" Rebecca remarked, worrying why her team's star striker wasn't preparing to walk out onto the pitch.

"Can you look after this one for me?" Jamie simply asked, gesturing to Billie who stood beside him, "She's not feeling great."

"We'll take very good care of her," Rebecca held out her hand to Billie, guiding her into the empty seat on her right.

"Come find me at halftime, alright?" Jamie insisted, knowing he'd struggle to play the first forty five minutes not knowing how Billie was doing, nevermind the full ninety, "I'll give Will your camera, and I'll tell the team about the dodgy kebab from last night."

"You're a fucking diamond, Jamie," Billie whispered, wrapped it her arms around him in a hug, "I love you."

"Love you too," Jamie replied, his voice hushed.

Billie watched Jamie rush back inside, hurrying to return to the pitch in time for kick off. He didn't have to go out of his way to do that for her, but he wanted to, because he loved her, and he would bring her the moon and then some if it would put a smile on her face.

"You alright, lovely?" Rebecca interlocked her hand with Billie's.

Billie offered her a hesitant smile, "We had a run in with Brad."

"Oh, I see," Rebecca nodded, "How did that go?"

"Could've gone better," Billie sighed, and Rebecca promptly squeezed her hand, a silent indicator that she understood, because she did, she'd had her fair share of similar ordeals with Rupert.

"You're right about Jamie, he is quite the diamond," Rebecca smiled fondly, "Who would've thought two years ago that you two fiery souls would've found each other?"

"I certainly never would've believed you," Billie replied with a slight smile.

"He's here, he's there, he's every-fucking-where, Roy Kent! Roy Kent!"

Billie looked around the stadium to see Chelsea and Richmond fans alike on their feet, giving Roy Kent the hero's welcome he deserved. Roy might have thought of himself as a tired old dog who couldn't keep up and struggled walking up and downstairs, but the fans didn't see that. They only saw his legacy, the trophies and titles he helped Chelsea secure, his assist in the 2012 Champions League final was instrumental to the team's success.

The chant continued to echo around the stadium as Billie caught sight of the banner hanging from the stands that read: THEY DON'T MAKE THEM LIKE ROY ANYMORE. It was true, and everyone in that stadium knew so.

She watched as Roy finally stood up, turning to face the fans in the stands, silently saluting them as they continued to applaud the man who was instrumental in winning their 2012 Champions League title.

Billie glanced past Rebecca at Keeley, reaching across Rebecca's lap, because she knew what it meant to Keeley, to hear the name of the man she still loved so fearlessly.

"No fucking way," Billie muttered as she laid eyes on a tall enigma of a man, dressed in a fur coat, strolling down the steps to the front row.

"Zava! Zava! Zava! Zava!" The fans began to chant as they too noticed his presence.

Zava stood at the balcony, overlooking the fans like some sort of monarch. Billie watched as Richmond's players stared up at him in awe, all of them except Jamie, who was focused on the impending match, choosing not to fanboy over a footballer like Zava.

The whistle blew and Richmond's first match of the season was in play, Higgins, who was sending Terry constant updates about Zava's presence at the match, quickly snapped a photo of the man.

"Leslie, will you pull yourself together?" Rebecca hissed, playfully tapping her friend on the arm.

"Give him a break, Rebecca," Billie hummed, "I was the same when me and Jamie saw Harry Styles at Wembley."

"That I can understand," Rebecca assured her, "I mean Harry fucking Styles, who wouldn't be mesmerised?"

"Jamie was pretty fucking mesmerised," Billie smiled.

They were nearing the end of the first half of the match when Richmond had a chance at the ball. Bumbercatch secured the ball, swiftly passing it to Colin, who readied to pass the ball to Jamie.

But Jamie wasn't open, Brad was on him, intercepting the ball with ease as he carefully flicked it over to Alonso who bounced the ball off his knee, passing it to Mount. With no Greyhounds in pursuit, Mount kept the ball at his feet, hurrying down the pitch, kicking it past Zoreaux and burying it in the net.

1-nil to Chelsea.

Billie kept her word, making her way to Richmond's locker room the minute the half time whistle blew, knowing that Jamie would be wondering how she'd been. She rounded the corner, reaching the locker room door to be met with the sight of Jamie leant against the wall, a nervous smile on his face when he noticed her.

"You good?"

"I'm fine," Billie insisted as she reached him, "Feels weird watching you play from the stands, I miss being on the pitch with you."

"But you're okay?" Jamie reiterated, his eyes flicking over her face for an indication as to whether she'd been crying again.

"Yeah, the second I'm not, I'll tell you, pretty boy," Billie nodded, "Now, let's join the boys, I wanna hear what Ted has to say."

Jamie led Billie into the locker room, where they were met with sympathetic smiles and nods, having been told by Jamie that Billie's stomach was unsettled by a dodgy kebab the night before.

"It's good to see you, Bils," Colin smiled as Jamie and Billie took a seat on the end of one of the benches, Jamie wrapping his arm around Billie and pulling her into his side.

"Let me guess, out of date garlic and herb dip?" Isaac sighed empathetically.

"Yeah," Billie nodded, glancing at Jamie with a slight smile, "Loverboy clearly has a stomach made of steel."

"Hey, fellas, listen up!" Ted approached the team, Beard and Roy on either side of him, "We get one goal, we're right back in this thing, but right now we are being so inoffensive, we might as well be a Hallmark Christmas movie, you know what I'm saying?"

"What?" Jamie looked at Billie.

"I think it's one of those low budget movies the Americans love," Billie whispered.

"I mean, Coach, how many shots on goal we have that half?" Ted turned to Beard.

"One."

"That's what I thought," Ted nodded, "And that one was pretty much a mistake, am I correct, Dani?"

"Yes, it bounced off my face, but my face almost scored," Dani remarked with inspiration as the team chimed in in agreement.

"Coach," Jamie raised his hand.

"Yes, Jamie," Ted nodded.

"Right, so every time they're going past the halfway line, they're just..." Jamie's voice trailed off as Trent entered the room, each of the players fearing the wrath of Roy if they so much as smiled at the man.

The room fell silent as Billie and Ted exchanged a look of concern, as Trent (an excellent reader of rooms) turned towards the door, prepared to leave the team to it.

"Trent, hold on a second," Ted stopped the man in his tracks, "Roy, can I speak with you?"

Roy looked at his colleague and then his sister in disbelief, Ted promptly gestured for her to join them, unsure who would be good cop and who would be bad cop.

"Duty calls," Billie patted Jamie on the knee, following Ted and Roy into the showers.

"Oi, what the fuck's a Hallmark Christmas movie?" Roy frowned.

"Hey, look, man, I don't know what your beef is with Trent, but I'm gonna need you to order off the vegan menu right now and squash it...your ego's about to sabotage a whole lot more than a silly football match," Ted warned the former captain, "You feel me?"

Roy simply nodded.

"Thank you," Ted replied softly, "And Hallmark Christmas movies are films that feature women from the big city falling in love with their childhood crushes, it's usually some fella that owns a Christmas tree farm, sometimes he's also Santa Claus or a prince, they suck, but they're great."

"Yeah, I think I'll stick to the EastEnders Christmas special," Billie nodded, turning to her brother, "I think this is the part where you invite the journalist from the big city to your Christmas tree farm."

Roy nodded at his sister before returning to the main area of the locker room, Billie and Ted close behind him, "Crimm!" He yelled into the silent void, startling the man whose eyes were glued sheepishly to his notebook.

Without a word, Roy grabbed his duffle bag off of the hook, returning to the showers with Billie in tow, as Trent nervously hurried after them.

"For the record, I'm good cop, he's bad cop," Billie smiled at Trent as Roy crouched down and rummaged through his bag, retrieving his wallet before he stood up slowly, "Fuck, I'm surprised his knees still work like that."

Roy offered his sister a warning glare, before returning his attention to his wallet, pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper and shoving the wallet into Trent's hands, "Hold this."

"I'm actually quite offended that you trust your least favourite journalist to hold your wallet instead of your most favourite sister, but okay," Billie remarked, earning another glare from Roy as he unfolded the small piece of paper.

"Newcomer Roy Kent is an overhyped, so-called prodigy who's unbridled rage and mediocre talent rendered his Premier League debut a profound disappointment," Roy read the harsh words from the small newspaper clipping that had been burning a hole in his pocket since the day of his Premier League debut.

"I'm so glad I was too young to read when that came out," Billie muttered, having only just turned one when her brother made his Premier League debut, "Not to indirectly call you old or anything like that."

"Do you know who wrote it?" Roy raised his heavy eyebrows at Trent who simply nodded, "I was seventeen years old, this fucking wrecked me."

"I thought I was being edgy," Trent admitted nervously.

"A lot like the kids at school who were too cool to admit they liked One Direction," Billie added, "Rejecting something because it's popular."

"I suppose," Trent nodded in agreement, "I was just trying to make a name for myself, all I really did was look for the worst in people, I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Roy assured him, holding out his hand, "Give me that."

Trent handed the wallet over while Billie smiled graciously.

"You know, it's funny, we had a lot in common back then," Roy remarked.

"We didn't," Billie gestured between the three of them, "I was only one, so chances are, I had very little in common with either of you."

"We both thought one another sucked shit at their job," Roy declared candidly.

"Now look at us," Trent smiled.

Billie grinned as she stood between the two men, "Is this the bit where we all hug or-"

"Go."

"Yeah," Trent and Billie nodded as they returned to the locker room, Billie beelining for the seat beside Jamie.

"You've cheered up," Jamie smiled as he laid eyes on his girlfriend.

"The power of a good powwow," Billie grinned as she sat beside him.

"Oi," Roy addressed the team before pointing at Trent, "You can talk around this prick now."

The team let out immediate gasps of relief, akin to the feeling of removing one's bra at the end of a long day.

"What were you saying, J?" Billie nudged her boyfriend, hoping the team could utilise his expertise.

Jamie stood up to address his teammates, "What I'm saying is, every time we go past halfway, they're just blocking up the passing lanes, you get me?"

"Yes, yes, that's right!" Sam was quick to agree with his good friend, "They're not marking us, so just keep dribbling until they stop you."

"Exactly!" Isaac stood up, ready to motivate his teammates, "Let's take this all the way and fucking win this."

"Fuck yeah!"

The team promptly poured out of the locker room, headed for the pitch, ready to broach the second half, hoping for a chance to score at least one goal. Both Billie and Jamie hung back, appreciating the moment to be alone, just the two of them.

"You joining us down on the pitch, Kent?" Jamie hummed as she stood opposite him.

"I like the view from the box," Billie smirked, "Being your wag's not too bad, sitting in the box, shouting at the ref, watching you work up a sweat on the pitch."

"You do all that from the dugout anyway," Jamie laughed.

"One day, I'm going to be up in that box at an England match, wearing a shirt with 'Tartt' on the back of it, how does that sound?" Billie replied as Jamie's heart raced at just how much she truly believed his dreams would become reality.

"Fucking incredible," He muttered before proceeding to kiss her hungrily, his hands cupping her cheeks as he ran his tongue over her bottom lip.

"Slow down, Romeo," Billie pulled back, "You've got a match to win."

A tie was a reasonable enough outcome, all things considered, a tie that secured Richmond their first point of the season. It was a respectable performance all things considered, and most people would argue that it was what came after the match that won the day for Richmond.

"What was it you said when you found out about Zava?" Jamie sighed as the pair sat at opposite ends of the bath, he knew exactly what she'd said, he just wanted to hear her say it again.

"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw," Billie laughed.

"Is that a Sex And The City thing?" Jamie asked, running his hand up and down her calf that was resting beside his thigh.

"Heathers the musical," Billie told him, "How are you feeling about this? Zava, I mean?"

"It is what it is, ain't it?" Jamie shrugged, even though she knew it bothered him more than he might let on.

"You'll always be my number one striker, Tartt," Billie assured him with a smile, scooping bubbles from the bath and blowing him a kiss.

"I still can't believe you did this," Jamie lifted her ankle out of the water, admiring the tattoo of a greyhound, an indicator that Billie Kent was a woman who stuck to her word, having had it done days after the team's promotion, "What'll you get if we win the whole thing?"

"A wishbone," Billie mused, "Or a portrait of you and Roy, I haven't decided."

"Both sound pretty fucking perfect to me, babe."

author's note: i love writing protective jamie!

hope you enjoyed this update! let me know what you think!

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