Page 26 of Stealing Home

“I regret a lot of things, but not coming home to you won’t be one of them,” I say and hang up the phone.

It immediately starts vibrating again. I send him to voice mail several times before Griffin comes over and holds his hand out for my phone.

“Don’t answer,” I beg him. Hearing a man’s voice answering the phone will make Nando unpredictably dangerous.

Thankfully, he doesn’t answer. Instead he goes into my contacts and blocks him, then hands me back the phone. “There’s no possible reason he needs to call you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Wren rubs my arm. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. How about you go get settled into the guest room? Maybe use that phone to call Scott and let him know you’re here safe.”

“Good idea,” I agree. I walk down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Wren has already left a change of clothes on the bed for me. I didn’t want to risk going back to the house to get some clothes in case he came home early.

I told Scott I’d text him, but I’m dying to hear his voice. He picks up after the first ring. “Hello gorgeous. How are you?”

“You were right, Nando came home pissed off.”

“Shit, okay, are you safe? Do you need me to come and get you? I’ll leave right now. Fuck him and this team, I’ll drop everything and come get you.”

“Oh god, sorry. I’m saying everything backwards.” I take a deep breath. “I should have first told you I’m at Wren and Griffin’s. Nando called me a few minutes ago, losing his shit. Thank you for calling and warning me. I don’t know how bad it would have been to be alone with him like this.”

“Don’t go back, please. You can’t go back to him. I don’t care if you and I never move past being friends. Well, that’s a lie, but more than anything I want you to be safe.”

“I don’t want you to worry about all of this. I’m safe, so all you need to focus on is your game on Saturday.”

“Fuck baseball, it isn’t as important as you are. When can I see you again?”

“Soon, hotshot. I just need to take care of some things in the next few days, and then we’ll talk.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, or I’ll just hold you. I prefer the second option,” he teases.

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “You’re something else.”

“You want to see me though. Fight as hard as you want, but you’re just fighting yourself,” he says confidently.

“Time will tell. I’ll talk to you soon,” I tell him and we end the call. He’s right, I do want to see him, I’m just not sure that’s fair for him in the long run.

10

Scott

“First away game, baby!”Taylor whoops as we load the bus to play the Central Wildcats, my parents alma mater.

He drops down in the seat next to me. “Are you staying with us at the hotel, or are you staying at the museum?”

“Fuck off, my house isn’t a museum,” I shoot back, but there’s no heat in it.

My parents are rich, but my sister and I weren’t raised with silver spoons in our mouths. The only major indulgence I grew up with was our house, but only because my father is practically pathological about our safety. My mom and dad went through a lot of shit to be together. My dad’s trust fund was like a beacon to some people from his past. They saw my mom as a roadblock to their plans, and though they’ve spared us the details, I know attempts were made on her life. They don’t have to speak the words to see it in the shadows of their eyes.

Unfortunately, I won’t get to spend much time with them on this trip. Coach is being a supreme asshole, and has demanded we all stay in the hotel the next couple of nights. There’s some validity to having tighter control over the team considering how they’ve been acting, but he could have made an exception when it comes to staying with family. Eventually we’re going to be traveling to the hometowns of a lot of our teammates. My parents aren’t happy about the decision, but I promised them we can have dinner after the game on Saturday.

It makes me wonder, has he always been this big of a dickhead? This is my third year on the team. I redshirted my freshman year, even though they begged me to play, but there was already a decent pitcher, and I didn’t want to start out on a team by ousting a popular player my first year. Last year I was the backup pitcher to a senior who now plays in the minors. I spent more time with the other coaches, since Coach Rivera only focuses on the starting lineup. He doesn’t do shit unless he’s showered with praise and attention.

Harlow hasn’t come right out and said he’s abusive, but she doesn’t need to. I saw the bruises on her leg the night of the banquet, the ones on her arm at the clinic, nor have I missed how she freezes when I get too close to her. The texts and phone calls are nice, but I want more. My instincts tell me to steamroll right over her and make sure she’s safe rather than leave it up to her, but I can tell I make her nervous. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable around me. What she needs most is to feel empowered. As hard as it is for me to stand back, I have to have faith in her.

I only heard from her once today when she texted me this morning.

Good luck, hotshot. Give them hell. Please don’t worry about me while you’re gone.

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