Page 115 of Stealing Home

He shrugs. “She’s a fighter. Trust me, that’s the kind of woman you marry. So what you’re going to do is take back your trust fund and marry Harlow. I believe I also heard mention of giving me grandkids really soon so you should both go ahead and get on that.”

“I am living in an alternate reality, or I’m the one with a head injury. Either way, before I propose I’d really like to find out how she’s doing.”

“She’s fine,” she announces as she comes down the hallway. Harlow’s face is a little puffy, and the redness is starting to turn a deep shade of blue.

“How much of what I just said did you hear?” I ask her.

She looks at me puzzled. “I heard you say you wanted to know how I am. Was there more?”

“Nope, that was everything. Nothing more to hear. Hey, let’s get you home so you can rest.”

“Rest sounds good. I just need to go sign some papers before we go,” she says and walks to the nurse’s station.

While she’s distracted I grab Max, Will, Taylor, and Joaquin. “Can you guys meet me tomorrow? I’m going to need some help with something.”

* * *

“Low,I need to go get something I left in my locker at the athletic center.”

“Okay, I’m not going anywhere. Not like this,” she gestures to her face.

I know the bruise is there, and it’s still somewhat visible, but her make-up skills have it mostly hidden. The most troubling part about that is the amount of experience it takes covering bruises to be that good at it. Never again will she need to know how to color correct a dark purple bruise on the side of her face.

Last night after she filled me in on what the doctor said I was finally able to relax a little. At least the worst part of her injuries are the bruises, and aside from some aches and pains, she’s going to be fine. However, being more than five steps away from her is proving to be impossible for me to do without panicking.

The longer I stand in front of her not saying anything, the more she starts to understand I’m waiting for her to come with me. She rolls her eyes, and goes to grab her bag. “I take it you standing there staring means you expect me to come with you?”

“You should probably get used to me hovering like an overprotective Neanderthal for a while. I need to have eyes on you at all times. The doctor wouldn’t even tell me how you were. Not only did I not get there fast enough to save you, but if you had needed someone to advocate for you at the hospital, I wouldn’t have been any help to you then either.”

I didn’t realize until the words tumbled out how much that had been weighing on me since last night. From the moment I realized she was missing, until she walked into the waiting room at the hospital I felt extremely helpless. Actually, I’m not sure that feeling has gone away, but at least I know she’s okay. As long as I can see her that is.

We go to the athletic center, but rather than head into the locker room, I take her out onto the field. The guys are already waiting for me as we coordinated this morning. Her head whips back and forth while she tries to figure out what I could have possibly forgotten on the field that would still be here, and why Max, Will, Taylor, and Joaquin would be here to help me grab it.

Without saying a word to her, I take my spot on the mound and pick up my glove where one of the guys left it for me. Taylor is at his usual spot behind home plate, Max and Will take their positions at first and third, and Joaquin fills in for Kent at second. I’d had second thoughts about involving Joaquin, but even though he’s a bit of a goof, he’s been a good friend to me.

She laughs and cocks her head studying all of us. “What is going on, Scott?”

Taylor holds out a bat to her. “He’s got a whole thing planned. Best you just roll with it.”

“Okay, hotshot. Show me what you got,” she taunts and chokes up on the bat.

Despite the fact she’s got amazing form, I’m still sending a pitch she’s guaranteed to hit. The crack of the ball against the bat makes me clench up for a second, but we’re both going to have to learn to live with triggers for a while. I almost miss her running to first base while I’m trying to shove down the flashback of the moment I thought I’d lost her forever. The memory reminds me why we’re here just one day after the worst day of my life. It isn’t enough for me to sit and wait anymore.

Snapping out of my trance, I grab a ball off the ground and throw it to Max. It whizzes past her a split second before she lands on the base. He smiles at her and hands her the ball I threw.

“Read it,” I shout out to her.

“Will? What is this?” she asks.

Max nudges her towards second. “Why don’t you hurry to second?”

“But I’m out,” she says, like we don’t know the rules of the game.

“Nah, he’s cheating,” Max teases.

“This is weird,” Harlow mumbles, and starts jogging for second.

Again, before she gets there, I launch another ball into Joaquin’s glove. Like before, when she lands on the base, he hands her the ball. This time I don’t have to prompt her to read it.

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