Page 43 of Stealing Home

“You’re not going to hold court with your fan club?” he jeers before I make it to the door.

I don’t have to look to know there’s a few girls who’ve already shown up to hang out with the team. There’s always the same faces. A couple of the girls are actually here for the baseball, while the rest are here for the players. I’m ashamed to admit I used a few of them to try and move on. It only made me feel shittier than I did before I tried anything with them. Since the last time a few months ago I’ve made a point of avoiding the parties, opting to study late in the library instead.

“Not my scene,” I say and keep going.

I catch Taylor peeking through the blinds as I climb in my truck. He shakes his head and lets the blinds close. I know he doesn’t understand, but I’m disappointed in him too. The whole fucking team including the coaching staff as well are a let down. How long have they known the coach was cheating on his wife and looked the other way? How many of them suspected he was abusing her and did nothing?

She doesn’t have to elaborate for me to know that’s the hell she’s lived for years. It’s in the wariness in her eyes when I move to touch her. The way she stiffens when I do. Words aren’t the only way to communicate, and Harlow says a lot without opening her mouth. Someday she’ll trust me enough to know she’s safe with me. Even if in the end my age is too big of a hurdle for her to get over, I hope I can at least give her back her sense of security.

* * *

Before we headout to Wren and Griffin’s place, we drop her car off in the back lot of a shitty apartment complex. The kind of place where people don’t ask questions, and neighbors don’t narc on each other. I don’t want to worry her, but if he’s tracking her phone, I wouldn’t put it past him to have put a tracker on her car. Of course, that would have taken some foresight, and he didn’t know she was planning to leave. Still, better safe than sorry. After we leave her car, she gets in my truck and we head to the barbecue.

My GPS directs us to a cul-de-sac on the edge of Centralia. There are four homes spread out, all unique yet complimentary. “So they all live here?”

Harlow nods. “Yeah, but I’ve only been in Wren and Griffin’s house.”

Wren rushes out the front of the middle house, surrounded by a bunch of kids. All of them are waving at us with huge smiles on their faces.

“I’ve been warned to take good care of you because you’re family,” I tell her.

She ducks her head, a habit I’ve noticed when she’s trying to hide her emotions. “They barely know me.”

“It doesn’t take long to grow to love you, Low,” I tell her.

Her mouth falls open, and I tip her chin back up with my finger. “Don’t freak out on me. I’m not sayingIlove you, at least not yet. I mean, I guess you’re okay.”

She rolls her eyes. “Nice save, hotshot. I’ll show you later just how okay I am.”

“Looking forward to it, gorgeous.”

We get out of the truck and Wren takes us into the back where they’ve got their own private park. Griffin and Charlie are hovering next to a large outdoor grill, while Liam is running away from a whole herd of kids. Four of them tackle him to the ground while the others stand around cheering. He stands up with the kids hanging off of him, and spins them around.

Wren rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s a giant child.”

A short and very vibrant woman bounces up to us. She links arms with Wren and Harlow, and smiles at me. “You must be Harlow’s pitcher,” she says and winks.

“Bess,” Harlow hisses under her breath.

I shrug. “I leave baseball on the field. I’m just hers.”

Wren laughs, and I wince. “That sounded a lot smoother in my head,” I admit.

Bess shivers dramatically. “Nope, I thought you hit that one out of the park.”

Harlow groans, and looks at Wren. “Does she have an off button?”

“If you find it make sure and let me know,” Wren answers wryly.

Bess rolls her eyes and lets go of their arms. “Fine, I can see my jokes are striking out. I’m going to go find my hot husband. At least he appreciates my humor.”

My efforts not to laugh fail as she skips off.

The guys start hauling large trays of food to the very long table they’ve set on the back patio of Wren and Griffin’s home. With this group it seems best to jump straight in, so I go to help. Bess’ husband, Donovan, introduces himself while I help him carry an ice chest closer to the table.

There’s a couple of new faces once we sit down for dinner. I meet Wren’s aunt Hattie and Liam’s wife Claudia. One of Wren’s twins is practically glued to Harlow’s side, soaking up her attention while she helps him make his plate. Liam is helping the other one, while his wife holds their baby.

“Give me a sec to get Superman here squared away and I’ll take the baby so you can grab some food,” he says to his tired wife.

---