Page 112 of Stealing Home

Inside the house, he shoves me down into a chair, then proceeds to pace back and forth in the living room. His movements grow more erratic, and he starts mumbling to himself.

“My dad was right. I shouldn’t have married you. From the moment I put that ring on your finger all you did was hold me back and nag at me all the time about what I did when we were on the road. Did you really think I was going to restrict myself to one pussy for the rest of my life?” A hysterical laugh rips free from him.

“We’re divorced now, so you should be able to reach your full potential.” Maybe it’s oxygen deprivation causing my brain to short circuit, but the words spill from my mouth without checking in with my brain. “What’s with this walk down memory lane? You didn’t want to be married to me, and now you’re not. Does it really matter which one of us initiated it?”

“I was reaching my potential coaching, but you had to fuck that up too. Here I thought you were a frigid bitch, but I guess you only spread your legs for barely legal college boys. What? Did you miss hanging on the arm of a top player so bad that you had to chase around my pitcher? Because of you our season went down the toilet, and I got kicked to the curb.”

This is a case of being damned no matter what I do. He bitched endlessly for having to coach instead of play, complained about not getting the kind of recognition as coaches from larger D1 schools, and now he’s pissed that he lost a job he acted like he was too good for. As much as it makes bile rise up in my throat, I know from years of placating Nando how to handle him to ensure my best chance for survival. I won’t get out of this unscathed, but a cursory glance down my body tells me that ship has long since sailed.

“You were too good for that job, and we both know it. They never appreciated you the way they should have.” Acid would have been easier to swallow than my pride for what it cost to push out those words.

His arm blurs through the air as he snaps out to backhand me. My cheek explodes as pain radiates from the bone to my eye, and even my teeth. “Don’t try and manage me, bitch. I’m not as fucking stupid as you seem to think I am. Of course I know that I could have done better than that position, but now who the fuck will hire me after getting fired by a second rate university?”

My eyes flick to the ceiling as I send up a silent prayer for Scott to hurry. I don’t know how much longer Nando will enjoy the sound of his own voice and move on to the toying with me portion of this hell. I know that time is running out though.

“Why did you take me? I know you don’t really want to get back together with me.” If I’m going to be punished, I would at least like to know why. My smarting cheek tells me it really doesn’t matter if I play along or not, he’s going to abuse me no matter what.

Nando turns his dead, black-eyed stare at me. “You think this is about you? Nothing has ever been about you. I asked you out in college because you were hanging out with a guy I hated, and I knew it would piss him off to see you with me.”

My mouth falls open. The last several years were absolute shit, but I stupidly thought we had a genuine beginning. I guess I was way off. “If that’s true, why did you marry me? We could have just parted ways.”

“I was going to dump you. It’s not like I was ever faithful to you, and not just when I was on the road. But, then I got signed to a minor league team and found out how low the salary was going to be.”

“Because you knew I would do anything for you, including work myself to death to provide a life for us while you were chasing your dreams.” I wish what I’m feeling right now was rage, but it’s more like resignation. “But, why didn’t we get divorced when you knew it was over?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “The plan was to ditch you when I went pro, but that didn’t happen. Then I was interviewed for the coaching position at Central Valley, and they made it pretty clear they’d only hire a married coach because the university president thought it would prevent scandal. Like dating a student”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. There hasn’t been a moment of our relationship where he’s ever thought about me beyond what I could do for him. “So again, why did you take me now? You clearly don’t have feelings for me.”

“I took you to prove a point to that uppity shit, Ryan. He thinks he can take over my team, and take my wife? For some reason, he actually seems to care about you. I bet your body turning up in the woods will destroy him. He’s not going to have a great season after that, and he can forget a professional career after he chokes.”

“He’s not going pro either way. This is his last season.” I don’t know why I’m even clarifying for him.

Shock registers on his face for a moment before he schools his features. “Doesn’t matter. No one takes what’s mine.”

“You don’t even want me,” I say through my teeth.

“You were still mine. I decide when things are over and how. Now, get up. We’re going to go for a walk in the woods.”

He tries to force me to stand up, but my balance is off with my hands behind my back. I only make it a few steps before I trip over the rug. Nando’s ego won’t consider me even a little threat, so he cuts my hands free.

“Try something and I’ll kill you slower,” he threatens.

Every crime documentary I’ve ever seen flashes through my mind. The odds have been stacked against me since I failed to prevent him from taking me from the stadium, but if I let him drag me out into the woods my chances dwindle from slim to none. Ultimately, Nando doesn’t give me a choice. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door.

He drags me toward the woods on the edge of the property. It feels like there’s a giant clock counting down over my head. I know, without a doubt, if he drags me past the tree line my time is up.

Digging my heels into the ground doesn’t work, but it does slow him down giving me some time to think. As he pulls me across the driveway, I stumble over the gravel and he almost lets go of my arm. I keep my eyes open wide and look for the best chance to trip on purpose. On the far edge of the yard, almost into the woods, there’s a stack of chopped wood and kindling. Purposefully falling over a stick, I throw more of my weight into this, and the momentum breaks his hold on my arm.

I’ve got seconds before he grabs me again, but I didn’t pick this spot to make my move for nothing. I reach out and grab a log that has the weight of a bat and swing. The wood cracks off the side of his head, and he drops to the ground. For a second, I’m frozen in place, but thankfully I snap out of it and run as fast as my bruised, aching body will carry me.

40

Scott

The sun is sinkingbelow the horizon as we pull my dad’s rental car into the field where the team is celebrating our win. Loud music blares from the beds of pickup trucks which are circled around a raging bonfire. Red solo cups are discarded all around the ground. There are more people here than I expected, which is going to make it harder to find Campbell in this crowd.

My dad and I get out of the car. My mom slides out from the back seat carrying a crow bar. There wasn’t any time to drop my mom off at their hotel. I have a sinking feeling we don’t have a second to spare to find Harlow.

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