Page 120 of Wild Catch
“But…” I splutter and a new ache squeezes my chest hard enough that I almost double over. My mind races with colliding thoughts, setting off sparks that threaten to burn down my flimsy sense of worth. “But I thought you needed me on the team.”
“Oh, I do.Wedo.” He motions around. “The team knows that losing you is a big blow, so they’re playing even harder. I think this will force them to evolve even faster, and by the time you return to the roster we might be unstoppable.”
Behind Beau, the other men glance at each other like they can’t quite comprehend what he’s talking about.
I do. He and I are the same type of people who can manipulate situations, even accounting for the variable behaviors of people.
The difference between us is that—first, the obvious fact that he’s a sixty something Black man with a wife and kids around my age. And second, that he’s genuinely at ease with himself. There are no edges or shadows to Rob Beau. He’s a steady, dependable rock. Of the diamond kind.
He’s everything I wish I was, and the respect I have for him is why I finally suck it the hell up. If Beau says this, then it is what it is.
I slump a little. “Is the game over?”
“No, bottom of the fifth. We’re leading by two.”
I was out that long? My eyes widen slightly, but more light aggravates my head and I wince.
“We’ll leave you to rest for a bit while we get the X-ray machine ready,” the doctor says.
Beau pats my shoulder before signaling to the other coaches to follow him, and everyone clears the holding room so they can go do their jobs.
Alone, I stare at the floor for a while.
“Damn it.” The façade I carefully maintained for years finally crumbled. Now everybody knows that I’m an impostor and that I’m actually a walking shitshow. I try not to wince as I lean on my bad side so I can lay back down, and throw my arm over my face to block out the light.
The door opens again. Sighing, I drop my arm. “Already coming to take me for X-rays?” A caveman grunt comes out of me as I pull myself back to sitting.
“No,” a feminine voice responds.
I lift my face. My eyes grow wide. “Rose?”
She leans against the closed door, her hands behind her but watching me like a hawk. Her attention stays glued on the ice pack. “How are you feeling?”
Subhuman. Worse than garbage.
Actually, like a garbage truck ran me over and left me in the middle of the road. And that’s just on the inside—in the throbbing in my chest.
“I’ve been better,” I respond in a low voice, trying for diplomacy. I let my eyes fall to her sneakers and stay there.
“Yeah, I imagine it can’t feel too good being rammed by a runner at full speed.”
I run my right hand through my hair. “Did you see the whole thing or only the part where I freaked the hell out and humiliated myself in front of the entire team?”
With a huff, she picks herself up and stomps over. I lean back as if that could add any real distance between us, but Rose stops a step away from me. Or maybe less. If I close my legs I could trap her between them.
“I need you to listen to me carefully,” she says with a not so veiled threat underneath. “What happened—that episode you suffered—it did not diminish the opinion anyone on the team has of you, do you hear me? If anything, the guys seem to be divided between worrying about you and guilt.”
“Guilt?” My forehead scrunches up, upper lip rising in the ultimatehuh?expression.
“Yeah, like Cade for example. He seems to think that he could’ve prevented it somehow. That he failed you.”
“What the hell?” I snort. “He did not—he doesn’t even know?—”
“Exactly,” she cuts me off sharply. “He had no idea what you’ve been going through all by yourself. I sure as hell don’t either, right? You made sure of that.”
I snap my mouth closed tight.
She’s not done, though. “You purposely put your real self behind closed doors—scratch that, inside a damn vault. And if you don’t let us in, how can we possibly help you?”
