Page 121 of Wild Hit
Another one asks, “Wait, does that mean that Machado’s wife is the new owner of the team?”
“Future owner, I think,” a third clarifies.
“Oh, cool. I like a woman on top.”
A round of chuckles.
I snap my mouth shut because, thanks, I really needed the reminder of Audrey on my lap running her hands down my bare chest while in the middle of a jam packed clubhouse. I have to run my hand down my face so I can wipe it off the hunger that always rears itself every time I think of her.
“Please, you fools. How can you possibly trust your future to a blonde woman, who knows nothing about baseball, and lets herself be taken advantage of by an opportunistic clown who only knows how to swing a stick?”
This…
This is probably the worst thing this asshole could’ve said in a room full of clowns who also swing sticks.
“And what makes you think that you know more baseball than Audrey, blondie?” I step into his grill, pointing out the fact that he looks like he bleaches his hair daily. “The fact that you have a twig between your legs?”
“Ooohh.”
“Burn!”
“Yeah, a twig might even be too generous.”
McDonald rolls his eyes behind Vos, probably regretting every choice that led him to this moment. “All right, that’s enough bullshit. Security’s on the way and you need to leave the clubhouse right now.”
“No.” Vos pulls at his suit jacket like somehow that beefs him up or something. “Don’t you know who I am? I will have anyone who touches me fired.”
“Under whose authority?”
Another guy heckles, “The State of Self-Delusion?”
“That’s a good one.”
“Listen.” I balance my weight on one leg. “Even if I wasn’t in the picture, Audrey’s not marrying you and giving you the team, if that’s what you wanted all along.”
One by one my teammates quiet down. Even the staff observes this guy like they can’t believe a venomous centipede somehow managed to walk into the clubhouse right before such an important game.
Beau’s voice rings out in the silence. “Who the hell let this damn fool in?”
“Not me.”
“Me neither.”
The guys keep passing the buck until finally, the only one who can’t deny it is Otto Berger, one of the physical therapists. “What? I thought it was the person delivering the refilled coolers.”
Cade removes his cap and wipes his forehead. “Dude, if I could I’d fireyou.”
Shaking my head, I say, “Expect to hear from my lawyers again tomorrow.” And turn around to finish dressing.
But that’s when all hell breaks loose.
With a roar, the self-entitled prick tries something that gets everyone jumping into action. Too late I turn to watch out, andhis damn heel slams against my ribs. Same side where I got beanballed.
“Oof.” Air comes out of my mouth.
“Get him!”
“I claim his teeth!” Lucky screams.
