by Sterling, J.
“I just want to talk to you, Jack.” She batted her eyelashes and tilted her head in some bullshit attempt to appear sweet.
“How about we talk after you sign the papers?”
Instantly, her mouth pursed together in frustration. “I’m not signing those. You can’t prove anything and you know it.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” I lied, hoping she’d buy it.
“You’re lying.”
Fuck.
“Just remember how many friends you have before I subpoena them all and make them testify against you. If you get them to lie on the stand, I’ll make sure they go to jail.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” she spat.
“The fuck I wouldn’t.” I leaned in close to her face, my words laced with anger and hate.
“It won’t work anyway. I’ve covered all my bases, so to speak.” She grinned wickedly, and I wondered what the hell I did in a past life to deserve this.
“Just sign the fucking papers, Chrystle.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I refuse to make it easy for you to get rid of me.” She smirked, and I wanted to smack the ever-loving shit out of her.
“Is this a fucking game to you?” I asked through clenched teeth, my temper rising to a boil.
“I want to stay married, so I won’t sign anything if I can avoid it.”
Her smugness radiated from her with such force that I had to fight the urge to scream and shout like a lunatic in the middle of the bar.
Keep your cool, Carter. Do not let this crazy bitch push you over the edge.
“Avoid it? You think you can avoid this?”
“Actually, yes I do.” Her voice, thick with deceit and confidence, made me want to gag.
“You’re just a bad person.” I threw my hands up into the air in my frustration.
“So are you!” she fired back.
“No. I’m an asshole. There’s a difference.”
This girl pushed every goddamned button I had. And not in a good way. I half wished Melissa would walk past me and deck her. Lord knows I couldn’t. If it were socially acceptable to punch a girl, this might have been the time I’d actually consider doing it. If she were a guy, I’d knock her teeth down her fucking throat.
“I will do whatever I have to do to be rid of you. You hear me? Whatever I have to do.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asked, her voice overtly raised.
“If I were threatening you, you’d know it. Sign the damn papers.” I turned away from her, punching the bar door open with my fist.
“I didn’t think it was possible to hate her more.” Cassie exhaled as she shook her head in disbelief. “Who does stuff like that?”
“Crazy bitches. I swear I’m never talking to another girl who isn’t you again.”
That actually isn’t a half-bad idea. If I never talk to another female fan, I’ll never get in trouble with Cass and she’ll trust me again.
“Gran might get sad.” Cassie’s sweet voice interrupted my new plan.
“Right. You and Gran,” I amended before continuing. “So, Chrystle filed a restraining order against all three of us the next day.”
“Shut the fuck up! Against you, Dean, and Melissa?”
I nodded. “She said we threatened her life and she feared for her safety.”
“Are you joking? That bitch better hope I never run into her or she will fear for her safety.” Her fingers tapped the top of her plate, making a loud ping with each touch.
I laughed out loud. “I like it when you get all protective over me, Kitten. It’s cute.”
“You should have had her locked up in an asylum or something when you had the chance.” Her voice filled with anger, and I found myself amazed at the amount of craziness in my life over the past year.
“I still can’t believe Meli didn’t tell me any of this. I mean, after I saw you at your game that night, I called her right away. She told me to get over you. She said I needed closure, but she knew everything that you were doing the whole time.”
I grabbed the back of my neck in discomfort at the memory of seeing Cassie with some other guy at my baseball game and also how irritated Melissa had become. “Yeah. She was pretty pissed at me by that point.”
“Why?”
I tugged my neck to the left, cracking it before exhaling loudly. “She told me that I had a deadline. Either I told you by a certain date, or she would.”
“When was the deadline?”
I looked away from her eyes, the truth still a painful reminder. “Before I left for spring training this season.”
I watched as her mind worked, the pieces clicking together like a puzzle that only fit together in one particular way. She was making the connection between Melissa’s demands of me months ago and their conversation after seeing me at the game a few weeks ago. “But she never told me. I mean, she never said anything. And obviously, neither did you.” She stopped, her forehead wrinkling with her continued confusion as she realized that Melissa threatened to confess everything to her, but never followed through. “Why didn’t she tell me? She knew how hurt I was.”
I nodded. “I know. She said that you were finally happy here. That you were giving people a chance and you loved everything you were experiencing. And she was afraid if she told you everything that you’d go back to being sad and close yourself off. She figured telling you would only make you take steps back, instead of forward.”
I watched as her forehead softened, releasing the tension. “Because of Joey?” she asked softly.
“Yeah. She said that even though it wasn’t the same, she could hear the subtle excitement in your voice whenever you talked about him.” I forced a smile while my stomach churned and twisted with jealousy.
“So that’s why she pushed me so hard to go out with him.” She stopped picking at her nail polish and looked at me. “You knew about him, right? I mean, before that night at the field?”
“Mm-hmm” was all I trusted myself to say in response. I had no right to be angry, but the thought of someone else with my girl made me want to punch holes in the wall. Or his face.
“From Dean?” she asked, her voice curious.
“Mostly. After Melissa got pissed at me, I think she enjoyed telling me you had someone else in your life. She blasted me one night after Chrystle had finally signed the papers, but I still hadn’t called you. I told her I was trying to figure things out, but she fucking flipped out on me, yelling and screaming into the phone.”
I shuddered at the memory of making Melissa angrier than I’d ever heard her before. For a little thing, she sure was loud. “She demanded to know what the fuck it was that I still needed to figure out. Then she told me to leave you the hell alone and stay out of your life forever.”
Cassie moved her hand to cover her open mouth, her eyes wide as she listened.
“By that point I was waiting to see if the trade would go through. No one knew I was trying to get traded. Not even Dean.”
“I…” Cassie paused, exhaling, “don’t even know what to say.”
“I feel like someone out of a fucking Lifetime movie. Or some piece of shit from the Maury Povich show. Saying all of this out loud.” I stopped to look at her green eyes.
God, she’s so beautiful. How could I have ever hurt her?
“It’s all so insane to me.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” she agreed.
Subject Change
Cassie
Reliving it all, when it wasn’t that far in the past to begin with, was beyond overwhelming. I had no idea all the things Jack had gone through during our time apart. Parts of it broke my heart and other parts downright pissed me off. I was half tempted to tell him to stop. That I didn’t want to hear any more. That I’d heard enough. What could there possibly still be left to say?
But my mind—my ever-loving, godforsaken, pain-in-the-ass mind—wouldn’t let it go. My mind would be the biggest monkey wrench in our get
ting back on track. I didn’t want to be stupid. I’d already accepted Jack’s apology and welcomed him into my home with open arms, but going forward, I didn’t want to be dumb ever again. There would be no next time if he fucked up. There would be no more chances. A girl can only take so much.
“Another break,” I suggested, and knew immediately what crossed Jack’s mind when I saw the knowing look on his face. “Not that kind of break.”
“Why not?” He licked his lips and my jaw dropped open.
“A change-of-subject break.”
“And change-of-location break?” He nodded his head toward the direction of the bedroom.
I narrowed my eyes, barely able to see him through the tiny slits. “Fine. But only talking first.”
Jack laughed. “Talking first. Sex after.”
“Jack!” I howled, my cheeks flushing.
“Come on, I can barely move anyway, I’m so full. New York pizza is fucking good.”
“I know, right?” I said. New York pizza was unlike anything we had in California. Don’t get me wrong, we had plenty of “New York style” pizza places back home, but they were nothing like this. This had become, hands down, my most favorite style of pizza. Ever. “They say it’s the water.”
“They say what? What water?” Jack asked as he put the dirty dishes into the sink.
“The pizza. They say it’s so good here because of the water. It does something to the dough. I don’t know if that’s true, but I totally buy it.” Every time I shared a tidbit of information I’d learned about New York since living here, an excited chill coursed down my spine. I loved being the person teaching Jack all this stuff.
“Sounds good to me.” He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands before turning to me. “Shall we?”
“If you insist,” I said.
“Oh, I insist alright.”
I walked into the bedroom and began stripping down, when Jack blurted out, “I thought you said we weren’t—”
“I’m just getting into my pajamas!” I interrupted. “I hate lying in bed in jeans.”
“Damn.”
“I thought you were full?”
He licked his lips. “I am, but there’s always room for K-I-T-E-N.” He sang the word like the Jell-O jingle, and I laughed.
“You forgot a T,” I teased.
“It wouldn’t fit. You try to sing it with two t’s.” He patted the top of the bed before leaning his head against a pillow as the Jell-O jingle played in my head. “Get over here.”
I slipped into a pair of boy shorts and a tank top before literally jumping onto the bed. When I snuggled my head against the crook of his shoulder and wrapped my arm around him, he sighed with contentment and pulled a blanket over us.
“So, what’s our subject change?” he asked.
“Your new baseball team.” I smiled against his shirt.
“What about it?” His chest rose and fell against my cheek.
“Tell me about it. How does it work in the big leagues? What do you have to do?”
“I have to report to the field on Monday morning. I need to be there by eight so I can fill out some paperwork. And I’ll spend the day there until the game.”
“But the game’s at night, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ll be there all day long?”
“Yeah, well, I need to get checked in, get my locker, make sure my uniform fits, meet the manager, work out, take infield, have batting practice, eat lunch, attend meetings—” He stopped abruptly before continuing, “and miss my Kitten.”
I laughed before sitting up to look at him. As much as I loved lying against his chiseled body, I enjoyed looking into those chocolate-brown eyes when we talked. Call me crazy.
“Should I come to the field after I get off work? Are you pitching? Do you want me there if you’re not pitching?” Working in the office Monday through Friday all but assured that I’d miss plenty of Jack’s games. While a part of me hated knowing how many I’d miss, other parts of me reveled in the dreams and goals I had for myself. I’d moved to New York to advance my career, not follow Jack around the country. Still, the idea of him traveling and playing in stadiums without me filled me with sadness.
I feel like a walking contradiction.
His eyebrows pulled together. “I have no idea if I’m pitching or not. But I want you there no matter what.” He reached for my hand, his thumb caressing my knuckles. “I always want you there, Kitten.”
My heart skipped with his touch, his words. “Then I’ll be there.” I smiled softly as he raised my hand to his lips. The truth surged through me in that moment. There was a rush that happened whenever I watched Jack play. Nothing compared to sitting in a stadium, no matter how big or small, and seeing Jack on top of that mound of dirt. It was magic.
“I’ll have a ticket for you at Will Call and you’ll get an ID card so you can go underground after the game.”
“An ID card?”
“It’s mostly for the away games. That way security knows you’re a player’s wife—” He stumbled before quickly recanting, “or girlfriend. So they know you’re with the team.”
All other feelings escaped in a rush as jealousy settled into my stomach. I wondered if Chrystle possessed one of the ID cards in question. As if reading my mind, Jack added, “She never had one.”
I exhaled and inhaled quickly. “I know it’s stupid to think about stuff like that, but I can’t help it.”
Jack quickly shook his head. “It’s not stupid. Those thoughts are in your head because I put them there.” He leaned his mouth next to my ear, his breath warm and enticing. “I won’t mess us up again. I promise.” He nibbled on my earlobe before he pulled away.
I closed my eyes, drinking in his vow. Part of me cringed, acknowledging the vulnerability that coursed within me. I needed to be strong, but the reality was that Jack would be away a lot and I wouldn’t be able to go with him. As much as I wanted to believe that his mistake with Chrystle was a one-time major screwup, I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t fearful.
I was.
And I wasn’t sure I’d ever not be.
“Do you believe me?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
I fought back the tears that formed in my eyes. “I want to.” What I wanted to do was bottle my anxiety up and put it on a shelf where it could only come out in small doses, but I didn’t know how. Right now it lived on the outside of my skin, like an extra layer I couldn’t shed no matter what. My emotions had taken full control over every other part of me. I’d become victim to my own insecurities.
“I’ll show you.” His forehead pressed against mine as he continued. “I’ll never lose you again.”
“What if I want to be lost?” I teased with a half-serious tone and watched as he pulled his head from mine.
“I won’t let you.”
“You won’t let me?” I mocked, secretly loving the way he wanted me.
Jesus, Cassie, you’re a fucking nutcase right now. Pick an emotion. Pretend like you’re in charge here.
“No. I won’t let you. End of discussion.” His mouth remained stoic.
“That wasn’t really what one would consider a discussion.”
“Because there’s nothing to discuss. I’m not leaving you ever again. And you’re not leaving me. No matter how pissed off I make you, or how frustrated. I fucking love you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I attempted to fight back the smile that formed. “And I love you. But really, if you ever cheat on me again, I’ll cut your nuts off and hang them from the Empire State Building.”
You’re Bossy
Jack
And now I needed the subject change. I’d relived my mistake with Chrystle every moment since I made it, and talking about cheating with Cassie fucking wrecked me inside. “You know, there isn’t much more of the story to tell if you want to quit interrupting and let me finish.” I cracked a smile.
She crinkled her nose in response to my words, a slight
smile spreading across her cheeks. I waited for what I was certain would be a smartass remark when she simply said, “OK. Finish.”
Wrong again, buddy.
I breathed out a long, steady sigh before picking up where I left off.
I leaned against the couch in my newly rented Arizona apartment. Spring training for pitchers and catchers was in full swing, and I was still a married man.
“We should really start on divorce proceedings, Jack.” Marc’s uneasy voice buzzed from the phone at my ear.
“Is that your professional opinion?”
“We’re only dragging this out further. She’s never going to sign something that makes her look as bad as the annulment does. As it is, there’s a thirty-day waiting period after we’ve filed the divorce paperwork.”
My head pounded as my rage exploded. “Thirty days? Fuck!”
“I know. Let’s just get this over with for you, OK? Let me withdraw the annulment and start the divorce paperwork. Although I have to warn you, she can refuse to sign the divorce papers too.”
“Jesus Christ, Marc. Just give her whatever the hell she wants and get me out of this.” I jammed my finger into the End button before pitching the phone full speed against the wall of my apartment. Pieces of plastic flew into the air, leaving a hole in the wall behind it.
Shit.
The next day I opened my e-mail inbox to see a message from Chrystle’s best friend, Vanessa.
Jack,
We need to talk. I can help you. Call me as soon as you get this.
Thanks,
Vanessa
I stared at the e-mail with her phone number for a good half hour before remembering I’d shattered my phone. Before practice, I picked up a new one and almost knocked the salesman out when he suggested I change my number to a local one. I’d never change my phone number to a number Cassie didn’t have, and the mere suggestion almost cost that guy his pretty little face.
“Jack?” Vanessa said when she answered my call.
“What do you want?” I asked abruptly. This girl was Chrystle’s best friend. She knew everything Chrystle lied about and did nothing to stop it.