Page 125 of The Baller

“Um… I seem to recall you giving it to your sister, and no one else has it except Payton and Radley. It’s probably just one of them.”

His eyes flicked over to the doors as they pinged open, until he saw who it was and immediately focused back on the task in hand. Syrup.

“See? It’s Radley.”

I could understand why Tanner thought it was Radley, but the Secret Service agent who stepped out of the elevator wasn’t one I recognized. Neither was the one after him. Or the one after that.

No, these guys looked way more formal, not to mention older, than Jake and his team.

“Hey, Radley, you want pancakes?” Parker asked as he heaved the stacked plate in the air without bothering to look around.

“Wait there, please,” the first agent ordered.

“Calm down, Captain America, we know the drill by now. There’s plenty for you, too.” Tanner rolled his eyes but also hadn’t looked up from his plate, or his own edition of Cosmo.

“I said wait there.”

“We’re not moving,” Ace snapped back, pushing a juice over the island to Tanner. “And no one’s been here since you left this morning, so chill your boots.”

“Dude, shut up,” I hissed, as two agents disappeared down each of the hallways. Another four checked the laundry, the fire-exit, and the guest bathroom. That made eight. Only two guys ever came up with Radley. “Something’s not right.”

“What’re you talking about?” Tanner mumbled through a giant mouthful.

“I don’t think it’s Radley.”

“Who else is it going to be?”

I looked down at the kitchen floor to see if my stomach had actually dropped out of my body, because there was only one thing which could explain this dread spreading over my skin like a rash. If it were a movie, the Darth Vadar music would be playing right now. Hail to the Chief was way too jolly.

“Well, this is exactly how I expected four baseball players to live.”

Milk and Coco Puffs splashed everywhere as Parker’s spoon was dropped right before it entered his mouth. An entire glass of juice joined it, flowing over the counter as Ace continued pouring. The rest of my insides united with my stomach on the floor, but all that was nothing compared to the mouthful of pancake and maple syrup Tanner inhaled, and now seemed to be choking on.

We were all too shocked to speak, never mind too shocked to notice Tanner was straining against the batter ball lodged in his throat and couldn’t breathe, until a passing agent whacked him hard on the back and loosened it. It was only as Tanner fell forward grasping at his neck and wheezing in as much air as he could that any of us moved.

I crouched down, steadying him before he fell over. “Shit, dude, are you okay?”

“No,” he rasped, “I’m fucking not.”

It probably wasn’t the time to tell him he shouldn’t take such big mouthfuls.

“Ace!” I shouted, as the juice ran off the counter and dripped down my shirt.

“Fuck!”

“All clear,” someone announced as I lifted Tanner to his feet and sat him back in his stool.

I handed him the overflowing glass of juice. “Drink this.”

All but two of the agents left in the elevator. The ones who remained guarded it like… well, like the President was in our apartment.

Emily Andrews stepped down into the living area and walked into the kitchen. Tanner’s mouth still hadn’t closed, like he was afraid his oxygen supply would get cut off again if he did. Ace was making no attempt to mop up the fresh orange juice dripping everywhere. Parker had yet to blink, though he did jump from his stool and pull the spare one out.

“Thank you,” President Andrews replied, easing into it like she joined us for breakfast every weekend, and we weren’t all staring at her and wondering if she was a hallucination.

The bag she’d been holding was dropped on the floor. She removed her baseball cap, placed it on the one dry patch of counter and ran her fingers through her short blonde hair, until it fell perfectly in the style she was known for.

Up close, she was almost as small as Radley; clad in sneakers, jeans, and a Presidential Letterman jacket. I’d only ever seen her on T.V. or on slightly smudged front pages, so I’d never realized how alike they were, but there was no mistaking the genes.

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