Page 39 of Trip Through Your Wires

“Aw, what’s the matter, Chambers, worried?”

“Worried?” I repeat with little interest. “About?”

“Well, from what I hear, Highland’s trick pony hasn’t left the stables in quite some time. It seems he’s been put out to pasture. Leave those fillies unattended for too long and someone else will come in and tame them.”

I toss my bag down and take a step toward him. “Woah,” Cruz steps in front of me and puts a hand on my chest. “Take it down a notch.”

“Yeah, brother,” O’Brien grins. “Take it down.”

“You,” Cruz whips his head around. “Don’t you have a drill to run?”

“Yo!” He holds up both hands. “Take it easy, Cabron.”

Cruz drops his hand from my chest and turns, squaring his shoulders with O’Brien. “What did you call me?”

“He needs to take it easy,” O’Brien chin checks me. “Like you said.”

Cruz runs a thumb across his chin and lets out a dry laugh. “Let’s get something straight. I’m not your brother. You don’t know me, so don’t act like you do.”

I’m not sure why I’m loving this, but God help me, I am.

“Another thing,” he continues. “Shut your mouth about Jenica. She’s off limits. Not a word, not a glance, nothing. Comprehende?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. She’s your girl’s best friend.”

“She’s more than that. She’s family. That means back the fuck off.”

“What the hell is this?” O’Brien’s eyes flick between Cruz and me. “You two have some kind of girlfriend swap going on?”

“Actually,” Marcus cuts in, coming over to stand with Cruz and me. “It’s an orgy. Nonstop those four.”

O’Brien looks at Marcus who looks at me and Cruz and winks. “Man, I don’t need this shit. I came here to help this team.”

“Help?” I bark out. “How, by tanking our batting average? We don’t need your help in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, apparently Coach thought you did, thanks to your roided out shortstop.”

Cruz is stoic. Cal may be dead to him now, but the guy was one hell of a ballplayer, and once, our best friend. But saying anything in support of Cal would be like forgiving him, and Cruz doesn’t, nor will he ever, and I have his back, unconditionally. That means, I stay quiet, as does Marcus, even though he’s loosely in touch with Cal.

When it’s clear none of us are going to say anything, O’Brien crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “It makes sense that the three of you are tight-lipped about your former teammate. I would be too, given what happened.”

Cruz takes a step toward O’Brien, warranting a side-eye from Marcus. What’s happening sends a wave of déjà vu crashing into me, and clearly him as well. It’s just like last summer, only this time, the smart ass on the receiving end of Cruz’s imposing presence isn’t Cal, but O’Brien.

“What are you talking about?” Cruz grits out.

I keep an eye on his hands, making sure he keeps them open and at his sides. Don’t need him throwing punches this early in the season.

“Oh, come on,” O’Brien rolls his eyes. “We all know you four went down south last summer to that town that became a media circus. Why you would go there of all places, is beyond me. But really, I don’t care,” he shrugs. “What I want to know is what does it and your fallen from grace shortstop have in common?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marcus asks.

“Come on,” O’Brien drops his head back. “One guy disappears, another gets so addicted to steroids he has to check into rehab, and some secret society blows up, all in one summer. Sounds like some kind of movie if you ask me.”

Cruz steps forward again, pressing his forehead to O’Brien’s. “You wanna talk shit, you talk shit. But I suggest you stop running your mouth about things you know nothing about. You feel me, friend?”

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” O’Brien turns his hat backward and presses his chest against Cruz’s. “You may be the star here, but don’t think I won’t fuck your shit up. You push me, I’ll push right back.”

“Meaning?” Cruz grounds out.

---