Page 145 of Stolen Bases

“The fuck you can. You’re talking about my woman. Your fucking sister. Talia isn’t just some girl. I love her, man. I’m in love with her.”

“You have everything.” Nico stops struggling and throws Lance off him. He points at me, his face raging. “I’m fucking done with you. And her. You can have her.” His voice cracks, and I don’t think he’s referring to Talia, but it kills something inside me anyway.

“Nico,” I call out.

“No! Just stay the fuck away from me.” He rushes into the dugout and down the runway to the locker room, grabbing bats and helmets on his way as he throws them against the wall.

Lance follows as storm Romero hits the locker room in full force.

My chest is tight, and I feel like throwing up. This is all my fault.

“Fuck!” I yell at the sky, eyes pinched tight.

What the hell am I going to do now? I can’t go into the locker room. Romero needs space to cool off. I don’t want to make things worse.

I turn to McKay. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

“I got you, brother. But we have a problem.” He nods behind me.

I already know what I’m going to see when I turn around.

About twenty cameras pointed in my direction. A variety of sportscasters stand back, frothing at the mouth for the story that just unfolded before them. They may have caught the entire fight on video—a video that is going to be played and watched by over millions of people—but they don’t have the details.

Anson walks over and slaps me on the back. “I’m proud of you for taking the hits, Miller, but now it’s time for damage control.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. My body is screaming at me to run and get to Talia before Nico does. I don’t want her to have to face him alone. I’m the one he’s mad at. It should be me taking his wrath, not her.

Anson grabs my arm. “After. Business first. McKay?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Make sure Nico is gone by the time Miller is done with post-game interviews.”

“On it.”

I watch Reed disappear into the dugout. I owe him for backing me up. Lance too.

Anson points at the camera crews. “No comment. Talk about the game. You got it?”

“Got it.” I crack my neck, wipe the blood from my mouth, and plaster on the Cameron Miller smile I use for the cameras. “Time to spin.”

And that’s what I do. Not for me or for Nico. For Talia.

Being the man she needs me to be and protecting her is all that matters now.

thirty-five

Cameron

When I get backto the locker room, aside from a few athletic trainers and the cleaning crew, it’s nearly empty.

The sportscasters were rabid for details. You’d think they were paparazzi with the way they wanted to talk about what went down with me and Nico and not the perfect game I’d just pitched. I did my best to quell the rumors by shaking off the spat as nothing more than a misunderstanding.

Instead of heading for the shower, I grab my bag and my phone, then head for my car. My phone has blown up with texts and missed calls from my agent, my parents, and my brothers. I shoot a quick text to Charles, assuring him everything is fine. Next up are Mom and Dad; I let them know I’ll call tomorrow. Then I read through the brother group chat.

Jace:Good fucking game. I’m so proud of you.

Eli:The baseball Hall of Fame is calling! You did so good, brother.

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