Page 31 of The Light We Lost

Chapter Fourteen

Nolan—Then

The infield was smooth and freshly raked, and the sharp smell of cut grass filled the air. Music drifted through the speakers, mixing with the voices of the fans piling into the stadium seats. The field lights were on, bright and blinding.

It was early February, my second semester at Arizona Canyon University, and baseball season had officially begun. It was opening weekend, the third and final game in our series against Washington. They’d won the opener and us the second, so tonight would determine who’d win the weekend series.

Tonight was my debut game.

The Arizona Rattlesnakes had nine pitchers, most of them upperclassmen. I might have been the starting pitcher in Wallowpine, but high school stats didn’t mean anything here, so I hadn’t anticipated starting this early in the season. Figured I’d have to put in my time before I earned a spot on the mound. But the coaches must’ve believed I’d done so these past few months, as they’d pulled me aside after yesterday’s win and told me I was pitching.

This was a step toward playing professional baseball. A shot to be more than a small-town prized athlete. To make everyone proud and prove they’d been right to believe in me. Right to believe I could be more than the son my mom left behind, more than the middle child who once wandered off for too long.

This was my golden opportunity.

But as I stood outside our dugout, shoulder to shoulder with my teammates as the announcer called out the lineups, I silently begged they wouldn’t call my name. Hoped the coaches realized they’d made a mistake and chose someone else.

“What’s up?” Dalton’s elbow hit mine. Before I could say something smart back, perhaps ask if he’d just realized he was on a baseball field, he murmured, “You’re all jittery. Did you drink three Monsters in the bullpen or something?”

Following his gaze, I found my fingers shaking at my side. I resisted the urge to clench my hands into a fist and instead folded my fingers up, leaving the middle one out. “I’ve been itching to do this since I woke up.”

He snorted. “Asshole.”

I smirked, almost relieved, until I heard my name called. Until, in a whirlwind of moments later, I found myself standing on the pitching mound. A baseball in my hand, smooth and untouched, ready to be thrown. My grip was firm, steady—but still I felt the ghostlike ache, the cloud lingering over me.

Mouth dry, I looked to home plate, and it didn’t matter how many times I’d pitched the sixty-feet-and-six-inch distance, it somehow transformed into the length of the Grand Canyon. It was unattainable, out of reach.

Hopeless.

This wasn’t my golden opportunity. I was a small-town wannabe, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. No matter what I did, I’d always be the pathetic boy who chased after his mama when she’d deserted him. I was nothing. Nothing, nothing, noth—

“—I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Try and tell me three things you see,” a voice had quietly urged, and though it was distant, I could’ve sworn I felt a flicker of warmth beside me, felt a break in the darkness engulfing me. “I’ll do it with you, okay?”

I shook my head, willing the black dots to leave my vision as I scanned the stands. Whether it was coincidence or some invisible thread binding us, I found Indy instantly. Dad and my brothers were there too, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone but her.

Her hair was down, her curls messy in a way that was absolute perfection. She wore a maroon jersey she must’ve made,ourlast name, Graham, across the front of it, and my number—thirteen—was painted on her cheeks. She jumped up and down with a large foam finger on her hand, cheering like I’d won the World Series.

The folks in Wallowpine had been wrong about her. She wasn’t a gold digger. Indy was pure gold. I wanted nothing more than to go to her. To go home and numb this world out, to hide from the shadows lurking within me.

But I didn’t do that.

Instead, I mustered up a grin and winked before I stepped up to the mound. After I’d thrown my warm-up pitches, our opponents’ first batter stepped up to the plate. I took a deep breath and started my windup, reminding myself why I was doing this, why I couldn’t give up.

Indy was counting on me.

Indy

“Your voice gone yet?”

“Nope.” I stared down the six-foot-something grump before me, giving him a sweet smile. “I’ve got another nine innings in me. What about you?” Brooks’s eye twitched, and my grin widened. Just to deepen his frown, I singsonged, “Oh Brooksie Poo—”

“You sound like a cat being mauled to death.” Heat crawled up his ears, and I could tell by the way he glanced around, he was regretting waiting outside the locker room with me.

I brought my hands to my chest, feigning hurt. I’d let him pretend he hadn’t been as loud as I was—if not louder—cheering for his brother. “That’s no way to talk to your favorite sister-in-law.”

He raised a dark brow. “You’re my only sister-in-law.”

I shrugged, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Wayne, my father-in-law, watching us with quiet amusement. “Still your favorite.”

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