I do feel bad—in fact, I feel horrible, and it’s eating me up on the inside. Worse than that, though, is that Travis and I aren’t speaking, and he doesn’t even know why. I thought about telling him about Elijah, but how do I explain the situation? It’s more than baby-daddy drama. The threats are something Travis will never understand because he isn’t a parent. I have to play Elijah’s game in order to protect Travis and Lucy.
“Can you tell us if Travis Kidd was following his victim around?” a woman in the back asks.
“Mr. Kidd has maintained his innocence from day one, so therefore we do not believe there is a victim in his case, other than Mr. Kidd himself. As for him following her around, no, I don’t believe he was doing that.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Blackwell, but the victim has stated in her complaint that, and I quote, ‘Mr. Kidd has been following me around town when I have been out with my family numerous times, and finally assaulted me while I was enjoying lunch out.’”
“I’m only aware of the complaint to which the accuser states that Mr. Kidd assaulted her. Next question.”
“But,” the woman continues, “the victim alleges that he was present at a pizza parlor and ice-skating rink.”
My blood turns cold and my tongue thick. Those are places that Travis took Lucy and me on our dates. The skating rink was a turning point for us. There is no way he took us there to spy on this woman.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t seen the full complaint and cannot comment. If there are no further questions…” That’s my cue that I’m done. I step away from the podium and make my way toward the side steps, away from the reporters.
“Saylor, wait up.”
I turn to find Paul chasing after me. I continue to walk, knowing that he’ll catch up.
“Hey, Paul.”
“Tough crowd.”
“Sometimes they don’t take no for an answer.”
“We never will,” he tells me, smiling. I smile back and raise my arm for a cab. “Listen, about that interview…”
“You’ll get it, but you’ll have to go through Jeffrey. After this morning, I am no longer working on Kidd’s profile. Jeffrey will either handle him or assign him to another junior rep.”
“Too much to handle?” Paul asks.
I shake my head. “No, there are more qualified people in the office to handle what Travis needs. Have a good day, Paul, and Happy New Year.” I slide into the backseat of the cab, and Paul is kind enough to shut my door. What I don’t tell Paul is that Travis has asked for a trade, and I don’t handle athletes outside of the Boston area. Jeffrey will turn him over to another rep who doesn’t mind traveling.
I send a quick text to my mom, letting her know that I’ll be home shortly. All I want to do is curl up on my couch and drown myself in sappy love stories that will cause an onslaught of pitiful feelings. It’s my substitution for wine. I also order Chinese takeout, hoping that it arrives by the time I get dropped off.
The cab ride takes longer than normal, the cabbie driving extra slow because it’s started to snow. I think about where Travis is going to go and how much I’ll miss seeing him. It’s funny to think how this whole incident has shaped my December, but it will also be nice to get back in touch with my other clients and make sure they’re doing okay. The Boston Rotary dinner will be a huge event for many of them, and I should be there, but knowing that Travis will be means I’m staying home.
We arrive at the same time my food does, making things easy. I pay the cabdriver and holler out to the deliveryman to hold up. No need for him to head to my apartment if I’m standing right here.
“Do you always conduct business on the streets, Saylor?”
“Thank you,” I say to the deliveryman as he hands me my food. “Every day, Elijah. It’s how I pay my bills.” I keep my back to him as I head toward the door, hoping he’s passing by. But that wouldn’t be my luck.
“I find that mildly disturbing.”
“What do you want, Elijah?”
“I’ve come to visit Lucy.”
I roll my eyes and jostle my food in order to press the Up button on the elevator. “Don’t you think spending Christmas with her was enough?”
“On the contrary. We’ve extended our stay in Boston and would love to have Lucy join us for New Year’s Eve. She really needs to get to know Renee and the children.”
Once again I roll my eyes but know that I can’t do anything about it. I know I have to let him see her, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it or let him take her places. This needs to be done in baby steps, especially since she’s really not fond of him. Not that I can blame her. I must’ve been totally blinded by the fact that he was my professor to not see that he’s a pompous ass.
He follows me in, uninvited, and takes off his coat. “Where’s Lucy?”
“At my mother’s,” I tell him as I pull out a fork and dig into my lo mien. I’m starving and have a headache from the lack of caffeine. I look at the clock and realize that today’s events have taken up most of the day. I’m slightly annoyed, but there isn’t anything I can do about it.
“And when might I expect her?”
I shrug, pissing him off.
“You know,” I say, pointing at him with my fork, “you weren’t like this when we were dating.”
“Like what?”
“Stuffy, like you have a rod stuck up your ass. You were fun; you made me laugh.”
“Maybe you were different and I’m not the one who has changed.”
He’s right—maybe I was. I know for a fact that I was more willing to give my heart away before I met Elijah. I didn’t see the world as a jaded place, but something I wanted to explore. Before I can give him another witty response, Lucy swings the door open and cheerily enters until she sees Elijah. My mom’s eyes widen in surprise when she sees him standing there. I shrug and make quick work of my food. After Christmas morning, I had told my mother that I hoped he’d get the hint and leave, but apparently Lucy didn’t make it obvious enough that she doesn’t like him, because he’s still lingering in town. Frankly, the sooner he’s gone, the better.
“I’ll call you later,” I tell my mom as she kisses a very-reluctant-to-stay Lucy goodbye. I don’t blame her. If I could leave, I would. As much as I love my apartment, this is the last place I want to be right now. My always-comfortable home feels like a giant eggshell waiting to crack.
“Lucy, would you like to sit and talk?”
I try not to laugh when Elijah asks her this. Five-year-olds rarely want to sit and talk to adults, unless it’s about the newest Disney movie coming out or what toy is their newest obsession. On a good day, I can get Lucy to tell me about her day at school, but since she spent her day with my mother, I doubt she has much to say, especially to Elijah.
“I wanna watch TV,” she says with the most exaggerated sigh I have ever witnessed. I stuff my mouth full of food to keep from laughing. Sure enough, though, Elijah sits down next to her. I hate giving him credit, but at least it’s an effort.
I decide to stay in the kitchen so I can watch them interact with each other. This is the perfect time for Elijah to show me that he can be a father. When Lucy tells Elijah that she’s thirsty, he gets up to get her a drink. When she’s bored with her current show, he offers to find her something different to watch, even if he briefly stops on CNN to catch the latest headlines. As I look at them, I can’t help but miss Travis. I’d much rather have him on my couch than Elijah, and I know Lucy would, too. Knowing that he can never be here again makes me despise Elijah.
As the night continues, I grow more and more tired of staying in the kitchen, but I refuse to join them in the living room. The last thing I want is for Elijah to think he’s welcome or for him to feel like I accept what’s going on. He can think I’m a coldhearted bitch for all I care—at least he’d know his place in my life.
The knocking on my door has me glancing at the clock and then to Elijah, who is starting to stand. If it were my mother, she’d let herself in after
knocking.
I open the door, startled to find a slightly drunk Travis leaning against the doorjamb. I angle my body between the partially closed door and the outside, hoping to keep Elijah’s prying eyes away from Travis. When he reaches for me, I have no choice but to step back.
“Why, Saylor?”
“Please don’t do this, Travis,” I whisper.
“Saylor, who’s here?” Elijah says. I close my eyes and shake my head slightly. I can feel Travis’s hand as it whizzes by my face. He pushes the door open with a ton of force, slamming it against my wall.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Travis, please—you’re drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow,” I implore him as I pull on his arm, trying to get him out of my house.
“Travis!” Lucy yells happily as she flings herself into his waiting arms. He holds her tightly while he glares at Elijah.
“Put my daughter down,” Elijah blurts out as he steps toward Travis. My instinct is to protect Lucy. I reach for her, meeting Travis’s gaze. He lets her go, but not very willingly.
“Lucy, please go to your room.” I point her in that direction and give her a small shove. I know she wants to see Travis, but now is not a good time. He’s been drinking, and I have a feeling nothing good is going to come from the brewing showdown with Elijah.
“So this is the sperm shitter?” Travis asks, pointing at Elijah. I want to laugh at the one-liner but know better.
“Can we talk tomorrow?” I ask him again.
“You heard her—leave. Besides, you have no business being here,” Elijah adds.
“Are you fucking him?” Travis blurts out. “Is that why you broke things off with me? Because of this pecker diddler?” He points at Elijah, seething.
“Are you sleeping with him?” Elijah decides to throw the same question out. I cover my face and scream into my hands, thankful for the muffled sound.
“What do you care if we’re fucking? That’s none of your business, unless of course she’s letting you into her bed now, too. Are you, Saylor?”
“Travis, please stop,” I beg him. “Please just go.” When I look at him, there are tears in my eyes. I let them fall, hoping he can grasp the severity of the situation. Elijah brushes past me, grabbing his coat off the chair.
“I warned you, Saylor, and apparently you didn’t take me seriously. I’ll see you in court.”
Elijah doesn’t even bother slamming the door for full effect; he calmly walks out and disappears down the hall.
“About fucking time he left,” Travis says, stepping closer to me. When he reaches for my waist, I push him away with all the anger building inside.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I yell, pounding his chest. “Get out! Get out!” I say the words through sobs as I continue to push him toward the door. Without even knowing it, Travis sealed my fate with my ex. Elijah swore he’d leave everything alone if Travis wasn’t a part of my life, and I was stupid enough to lie and tell him that Travis meant nothing. That all we had done was kiss, and that was the night at the skating rink. That Travis would never come around to see Lucy.
I lied to protect Lucy. I lied to protect myself. And once again, I’m going to lose everything because of Travis Kidd.
Twenty-Nine
Travis
Whenever I wake up with a hangover, I often ask myself why I drank so much and promise that I’ll never do it again. That promise is something I’ve been breaking for the past few days, and up until now, I didn’t care.
I had hoped the booze would muddy my memory of last night, but it hasn’t. Every word she said, every expression she had, every punch to my chest to get me out of her apartment is crystal clear. I fucked up, and I don’t even know how. All I know is that the sobs I heard on the other side of Saylor’s door last night were enough to sober my stupid ass up.
For hours, I sat against her door, until a resident suggested I leave or they were going to call the police. If I hadn’t been arrested earlier, I probably would have encouraged them to dial Boston’s Finest. Another man might understand my plight. The woman that I want to be with kicked me out of her house, and while I probably deserved it, I didn’t want to leave until she stopped crying. I didn’t want to be the one to walk away in her time of need.
But as egos go—and believe me, mine is huge—I couldn’t let it get in the way any longer, so I walked my drunk ass back home with my tail between my legs, only to stay up all night while the booze wore off, knowing that I had to live with whatever I’d done to Saylor.
She’s the last person in the world who I want to hurt, and she’s the one person who can save me. Not only from a life behind bars, but also from myself. When I’m with her, I’m a different person. The cocky son of a bitch who everyone is used to doesn’t exist when she’s near me, and frankly, that is the man I like, or at least I used to. It’s easier being a fucking douche. It’s second nature to me and comes with the territory of being named one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.
Except when I’m with Saylor, I can be the man who hides in the shadow of that Travis Kidd. I can be the kind of man who doesn’t have to have a one-liner available or wink in order to get a phone number. When I’m with her, life outside of baseball starts to have a meaning, a fucking purpose.
This morning, I’m meeting with Ryan Stone. I shouldn’t be here without Jeffrey or Irvin, but I am. As far as I’m concerned, unless Saylor has a change of heart, my career is over. I know I can subpoena her to testify, but I’d never be able to live with myself if she lost her job or the judge revoked her probation because of me. No one is ever going to understand my situation, or my decision, and that’s okay as long as I do.
Stone has a sweet setup in his office with his floor-to-ceiling wall made up of glass overlooking our snow-covered field.
“It’s a great view when the team is down there practicing,” Stone says as he walks into his office. I know I’ve called him away from his vacation, his family time, but this is important.
“I can imagine. I always thought I’d find myself in a front office position after retirement,” I say, staring out at the field.
“You’d do very well within any organization,” he says. I turn and shrug, keeping my hands buried deep within the pockets of my pants.
“Maybe in another life.”
Stone motions for me to sit down across from him, and I do. He appraises me for a minute before leaning back in his chair. He’s younger than me and has done a hell of a job with the Renegades.
“I’m asking to be let out of my contract,” I tell him. He leans forward as if he didn’t hear me correctly. “I’m not asking for a trade, or to be put on waivers. Only to be let out.”
“Why?” he asks.
I pick the imaginary lint off my pants. “This case…it’s caused a divide among the team and the staff. I don’t want to walk the halls of a place where I’m not welcome, and no one is going to pick me up off waivers. I’d rather save face.”
“Quitting isn’t the answer.”
My throat tightens. I’ve never quit a damn thing in my entire life until now. “No, it’s not, but I don’t see another choice.”
Stone’s fingers steeple as he thinks about what I’m asking. Surely I’m not the first player to come forward and ask for this—possibly the only one in his tenure, though.
“Why not retire?” he asks.
I straighten in my seat and clear my throat. “I need to leave Boston. I’m not welcome here anymore, so there isn’t a point in staying. Retirement would allow you to keep me on staff, and I can’t be here.”
He nods and drops his hands. “Let me think about this, Travis. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to come in here today and quit, and it’s a lot to process.”
“I understand.”
“I do have one concern, though,” he states.
“What’s that?”
“What happens if I let you go and you’re cleared of any wrongdoing? What then?”
I shake my head.
“If I had the answer, I’d wait it out, but people have made it clear that I’m no longer welcome in the clubhouse.”
“Teammates?”
When I don’t answer, he nods. “I’ll be in touch, Travis, and until then, please keep us updated on the case. I heard you have a court date next week?”
“Yep. The state has to put up or shut up.”
“Huh, let’s hope it’s the latter.” He stands and shakes my hand, clasping it with both of his. I’m fighting back the emotions, not letting them get the best of me. I love playing for the Renegades, but I have to have the full support of everyone involved. Not only a few whom I call friends.
The sun is shining when I step out of the stadium. I thought about cleaning out my locker, but the idea truly rips my gut apart. My life as a baseball player is over, and I can thank myself for that.
A different decision, on any given night, and I’d be walking the streets a free man. If I hadn’t talked to Saylor, what would the likelihood be that this other woman would have gotten jealous? Slim to none. I’ve made so many mistakes recently, and each one seems to come full circle to Saylor.
Hailing a cab, I give the driver her address. I don’t know if she’ll be at home or not, but I need to see her. Hell, I don’t even know if she’ll let me in. I wouldn’t. I should’ve never gone over there last night, especially in my inebriated state. Booze and bad attitude do not mix, but I needed to see her.
I ask the driver to let me off a block before her building so I can buy her flowers. If anything, they’ll brighten her apartment, and she can remember the good times we spent together. Even though our time was limited, every memory is burned into my mind, and it’s a time I’ll never forget.
Honestly, I want a chance to redeem myself. She saw the good in me once. She can see it again. And if it’s her job holding her back, well, we can figure that out together. I want her and Lucy in my life.
Grand Slam Page 19