Page 112 of Wild Pitch
“Keep driving and don’t disconnect the call, but give me a second.” Some rustling is followed by tapping sounds. While she does whatever she needs, I take the winding way out of my neighborhood, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror for any weird signs. I almost forget that the call is still connected until Hope talks once more. “All right, I cleared it with my dad. He’s good with you staying the night at his place.”
“Huh?”
“I mean it’s not like you can circle the whole night waiting for the stalker to leave, right? And the other option would be to call the police.”
“No thanks to both of those.”
“I figured. Do you remember how to get to Dad’s place?”
“I think so.”
A different kind of noise comes from her end of the call, and it takes me a second to realize it’s the engine of her car. “What are you doing?” I ask, confused.
“I’m going to meet you there because Dad is out with his pickleball buddies. Man can’t play because he’s injured but he sure can go out for drinks with them, huh?” I can picture her shaking her head right now.
I tense at the first sign of a car behind me, until it passes me and turns left and I see that it was a SUV, and not the sedan that was parked outside my house.
Hope’s voice keeps my shit together as I drive down to the neighborhood between Audubon Park and the less affluent areas of Baldwin Park where her dad lives. I get there first and park by the curb of her childhood home, a bungalow with blue shiplap and white trim, an oak tree sprouting from the backyard and palms lining the front.
My eyes are trained on the rearview mirror until another car drives into the street, but it has distinct round headlights and I know it’s Hope. Turning off my engine, I get out of my truck to wait for her. She stops right behind me, barely leaving enough clearance for her dad to pull into his driveway later.
Hope jumps out of her car, leaving the door open as she marches up to me. She stops right in front of me, grabbing my arms and inspecting me. “Are you okay?”
My lips twitch. “I’m fine.”
Then she rises to her tippy toes and grabs my face until my lips pucker out. “How about in here?”
“Eh. It’ll be fine.” Especially now that she’s here. I grab her wrists and she allows me to remove her hands. “Did you see anything weird behind you?”
“No. You?” I shake my head and Hope presses her lips tight. “Cade, you do know this means you won’t be able to leave it alone and hope it goes away by itself, right?”
“I know. I’ll figure it out,” I whisper.
“Sooner rather than later, okay?” She worries her lip and I feel it in every fiber of my being.
Of course, that’s when I notice I still have her wrists in my hands and that she hasn’t pulled away. Would it spook her if I slide my hands down to hers, if I sneak my fingers between hers?
Probably. Especially considering how stiff she was all through dinner earlier. So I let her go for now.
I clear my throat. “Right. Yes.”
She jerks a nod. “Then, follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her ponytail swishes as she strides to close her car. I wait just down the steps while she unlocks the front door of her dad’s house and flips on the lights. It’s really strange because nothing about tonight has gone the way I thought it would—dinner wasn’t just the two of us, I certainly wasn’t expecting the stalker to come back, and yet here we are. Alone anyway.
She shuts the front door behind me and I have to consciously remind myself to freaking behave.
My eyes travel around the living room, with the comfy brown furniture, potted plants, and picture frames hanging on every wall depicting the family history. Some of them are crooked and rather than looking shabby, it gives me the feeling that those are the favorite pics, the ones her dad or maybe Hope herself love on with their hands.
“So, this is it.” Her hands smack against her thighs. “It’s not a McMansion but this is where I grew up with my dad and an annoying older brother.”
I smile. “It’s a great home.”
“Wait till you hear the creaky pipes,” she says, but her eyes are bright as she guides me to the kitchen. “Kitchen should be pretty well stocked, but don’t let me catch your hands in the Cheetos bag.”
“Stay away from the Cheetos, gotcha. Is beer okay?”
