Page 89 of Keep Me

Here.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ryker

Something feels wrong.

Ever since the second inning, Camille has been missing. Then Jasmine left minutes ago and when she returned, Cami wasn’t with her. I’m already pissed the fuck off because we’re losing. I’m personally having a great game, but I’m about to ruin it if I can’t get my mind off my girl.

Where is she?

Rationally, I think to myself that she’s probably doing something for social media, but a deeper part of me feels like something’s not right.

I curse as we jog out to the field to play defense, my eyes scanning the stadium again in the hopes of seeing her, with no luck.

Yanking my ball cap down, I force myself to focus back on the play at hand. The captain for the opposing team is up, and he’s arguably the best hitter on their team. From my peripheral, I see Cuddy jogging backward, preparing for this guy to bomb it outfield.

Our pitcher winds up, whipping a fast ball down to the plate, and the batter swings, hitting a foul ball right past me. I groan in frustration because I should’ve caught it and got us an easy out. If my focus were where it needed to be, I would have dove toward it and attempted to make the play.

To make matters worse, he crushes the next pitch, hitting a home run. The desire to whip my glove on the dirt is strong, but I hold it together, knowing I’m being watched at all times with the draft coming up.

We manage to end the inning without letting anyone else score, and I jog to the dugout with my head hanging low. Not only are we losing, but I can’t focus and I’m stressed the fuck out about Camille.

“Have you seen Cami?” I ask Noah as he downs some water.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Isn’t she in the stands?”

“No, she’s been missing for a while now,” I tell him, fear itching its way up my spine.

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. You know how busy she is during games,” he reasons, but his words don’t help.

What if she’s just like him? Leaving me with no goodbye or intention to see me again. Anxiety creeps in, thousands of what-ifs swimming in my head until I feel like I’m drowning.

My hand shakes as I find my coffee cup, a smile finding my lips when I look at the tongue design in my coffee. She told me it was because she came on my tongue three times last night.

My smile fades when I remember that I have no idea where she is right now.

Fuck this.

I jog out of the dugout with my glove still on and hop the fence, right into the stands. Fans are staring, cheering and making a commotion of it, but I don’t pay them any attention.

I beeline right for Jasmine and Theo, needing to get to the bottom of this. Jasmine stands up once I reach them, and it’s then I notice how red and puffy her eyes are. My stomach bottoms out.

Something bad happened. I fucking knew it.

If someone even breathed on Camille the wrong way, there’s going to be hell to pay.

“Where is she?” I seethe, my chest heaving up and down erratically.

Theo stands up between us, a solemn look on his face, which is highly unusual for him. It only makes me that much more pissed off.

“Let’s talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning for us to head outside the gate to the parking lot.

I’m about to make the move when a hand is placed on my shoulder. I turn around to see Coach Warren staring at me. “What in the hell are you doing, son?”

“Cami’s gone…I need to find out where she is,” I answer honestly, feeling like my skin is crawling with dread.

Coach looks between the three of us, and I’m not sure what makes him comply, but he does. “Go, Lewis. But your ass better be at our game tomorrow,” he orders, clapping me on the shoulder before returning to the dugout.

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