Page 32 of Unleashed

Crick lands at home plate even before the ball gets to me, as he should, being the team’s best player. Good for him.

Ferrera’s turn at bat goes more smoothly, with him hitting the first pitch as a foul grounder toward first base. I give him another chance, and he blows a line drive to me. Without blinking, I catch it and toss him back a grin. He leaves with a frown. Another satisfied customer.

The third batter, Rhonda, steps up to the plate, unsure and leery of Simone and me arguing again. I won’t waste my breath on that anymore.

Rhonda swings and misses. I notice Simone shaking her head and talking to her. Probably trash-talking the ex.

I sigh super loud, making Rhonda and Simone look my way. Rhonda half-smiles as she takes a step back to tie her shoe, avoiding this shitshow. Seeing an opening, I wind up the pitch, and as Simone looks at me, I pretend to lob an ace toward her. Horror darkens her face, and even though she’s wearing catcher’s garb, she turns her head and sticks out her glove. Sadly, she loses her balance and falls on her ass in a cloud of dust.

Still holding onto the ball, I snort and lose my breath, laughing. Seeing Simone sprawled out on the dirt, wearing gear that will never make her look sporty, is a damn treat.

To the side of me, Hadley shrieks, “Rod, that was horrible!”

Betsy yelps, “You’re mean!”

Laughing, I toss the ball into the air. “Occasionally.” The initial rush of watching Simone fall on her ass fades more each time I pitch the ball above my head. It’s not in me to be a dick to anyone without a valid reason, but Simone didn’t stick around to allow me to fix my mistakes. I would never have broken up with her. I was committed to her. She proved how much she wasn’t to me.

From shortstop, Hadley marches over and swoops in front of me. “What the hell was that?”

I roll my pitching shoulder as my initial grin fades. “A joke. She’s fine.”

Hadley slaps her hand into the palm of her black softball glove. “You’re the only one who thinks it’s funny, letting your personal issues with her assault our team. We all want to get along and win this. Don’t you want to go to the Bahamas?”

Looking above Hadley’s head, I see Simone resembling a turtle trying to right itself. Rhonda helps Simone because, of course, she would. Ronnie glances at me with an uneasy smile that doesn’t hide her disappointment in me. I feel more ashamed of Rhonda’s disappointment than Hadley’s.

I roll my eyes before returning them to Hadley. “Come on. Like I’d sucker-pitch her.”

Hadley squints her eyes up at me as she shakes her ponytailed head. “While on a pitcher’s mound. During softball practice. Before the next pitch. Sure.”

Wilder yells, “Let’s go, Rodwell! Stop messing around!”

“Your beloved beckons,” I mutter with another eye roll. “I’ll apologize to her later. Happy?”

Hadley nods and relents, heading back to her position. I can see and feel Simone’s icy glare through her caged helmet.

Inhaling a deep, dusty breath, I pitch, and Rhonda hits it past first base, where Betsy moves like she’s wading through cold molasses. What a waste.

Tesco shouts, “Hustle, Litman!” Not even if she knew how. Grant was an excellent first baseman, at least.

Rhonda stops at third, but only because she fears taking the last leap to home plate. She shouldn’t worry. There’s no way she won’t be safe since I won’t stop her.

Wilder writes on his clipboard as I prepare to pitch to Brandon. Rhodes is a ball-walker. I don’t know how that shakes out because I assume Father Time withered his balls.

Brandon hits the ball on the first pitch, and it’s a lame bounce toward me. And this is our fearless leader? If he doesn’t up his game, he won’t have to follow through with a vacation, which is probably his strategy.

I lunge for the ball and wing it to Betsy, who is slow and gripes about it being too fast. I swear to God, I’ll toss her into a trash can soon.

Wilder calls Simone, Sylvie, Betsy, Ferrera, Crick, and me to the chain link where he’s holding court. “Okay. I made some changes. Betsy, I want you to try catching since Amos isn’t here to relieve Simone. You might like it better there.”

She puckers her lip, resembling a cat’s shriveled asshole. “I don’t know.” Oh, we all don’t, bitch.

“Nico, I want you at first base.”

“I’m game.” He laughs, and I shake my head at his sorry joke, with him flipping me off.

When Betsy continues to whine, Wilder oozes fake encouragement. “Betsy, you’ll do great. When Amos comes back, you can then move to the outfield.” Jupiter isn’t far enough. I don’t want her standing behind me, looking at my ass. “I want Sylvie, Rodwell, and Simone to stay here to bat.”

Tesco guides Betsy to the catcher’s gear, where that blessed son of a bitch gets to show her how to suit up. I hear wedding bells... Rod Stewart was right about some pricks having all the luck.

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