Except the guy had a brain like a database, and he filled it with stats.
“Want to sit up in the press box while I give you the low down on each batter?” Kirk patted his brother on the back as they walked toward the bleachers. He’d make sure Matt had success in his chosen occupation. It was the least he could do to show his brother that he loved and accepted him unconditionally.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Hey, how was the ranch?” Marcia stood from her desk and hugged Jeanine. “Brock and I are so proud of you for facing your problems head on. We truly had no idea about the things that had happened to you.”
Jeanine softened under her friend’s embrace and fought back tears. “I had to face some harsh truths. It wasn’t easy, but it gave me a good start. How are things here?”
“Same old, same old. Tina’s great. The customers love her, so I gave her more hours. Brock and I are seeing a counselor.”
“You are? That’s great, but what happened?” Jeanine couldn’t believe she’d been so wrapped up in herself that she hadn’t helped her friend. “You know you can always talk to me.”
Marcia waved her hand and headed for the office. “Sometimes we want to appear strongest to those we care about most.”
“Tell me about it.” Jeanine stepped into the office and sat down on the old, saggy couch. “My entire life was spent convincing everyone I was okay. Just fine. Doing great. Happy as can be. I should have seen the signs in you.”
“You did.” Marcia sat next to her and propped her boots on the coffee table. “You just thought it was Brock messing around on me.”
Jeanine blew out a relieved breath. “I’m glad he’s not, but it sure seemed he wasn’t helping you with the baby. How is everyone? Is the blood cleaned up? Damn. I must have really did a number on you. Bet you’ll never let me babysit again.”
“Not sure I’ll let anyone babysit.” Marcia rubbed her palms over her eyes. “Let’s just say I’m in therapy. Post partum depression, anxiety disorder. I was paranoid something would happen to Junior and generally driving everyone nuts. After the shooting, I starting having panic attacks. Brock’s been seeing a therapist weekly. It turns out my post partum depression was affecting him, only he didn’t realize I had a problem until after Kirk got shot.”
A thunderbolt sizzled through Jeanine’s heart at the mention of Kirk, but she swallowed hard and quelled the unrest inside of her. She couldn’t afford to get excited or riled up every time someone mentioned him. Even worse, she’d better be prepared for him to come by the bar with his teammates.
Calmly, she took her friend’s hand. “I’m glad you’re getting help. Is Bianca okay? How’s Pappy?”
“We were able to keep Bianca from seeing the blood. Kirk had called us, warning us that you were having a breakdown, so only Brock showed up at the house. Of course, you probably don’t remember anything since they sedated you.”
“No. That week was a blur. I do remember you two at the hospital. You forced me to go into recovery. What did you tell Binky about me?”
“Only Auntie J was tired and needed a vacation. I think she’s still waiting for that trip to the zoo you promised her.” Marcia winked. “Make sure to take her to the turtle exhibits.”
Jeanine reached over and hugged her friend again. “Thanks for trusting me again. I promise I won’t put anyone in danger.”
“It wasn’t your fault Simpson came after you. He’s locked up now, and he can’t hurt you again.”
“He can’t and he won’t. Now, boss, think I can go back to work?” There was nothing better than getting back on the saddle after a setback. Work would be great. It would take her away from dwelling on her problems.
“Of course.” Marcia patted her knee and stood. “Tina needs some time off. That girl works really hard.”
“There’s something you should know. Tina knew George Simpson.”
“We kind of figured that out,” Marcia replied matter of factly. “The press have been hounding her, and the bouncers have been busy removing hecklers and curiosity seekers.”
“Yeah, well, she confessed that she let George into my apartment when I was in Vegas. I wanted to give her a chance, but I’m afraid I can’t trust her. It’ll come out in George’s trial and she might be arrested for filing a false police report, as well as accessory to burglary.”
“Shit.” Marcia’s face paled, and she sank back onto the couch. “She betrayed you. Did she give a reason?”
“No, but knowing George, he must have had some kind of hold on her. He didn’t abuse her the way he did me. I made sure of that.”
“How would you know?”
“I had sex with him to keep him occupied. He promised me he wouldn’t touch the younger girls as long as he had me to sleep with.” Tears breached Jeanine’s eyelids again, and she cupped her face in her hands. “I was the sacrifice to keep them safe.”
Marcia’s arms were around her again, and this time, Jeanine broke down, melting into a torrent of tears. She cried for her lost childhood, the betrayals, her mother’s abandonment, her father’s abuse, and then it was all Kirk, flooding her with grief so raw she wanted to scratch out her own eyes and impale her heart on a stake.
Yes, she was wrong to jump him while he slept. She’d all but raped him. But she’d needed him to understand and had begged him to listen and forgive her.
All she got was his backside walking out the door, and the door slamming in her face.
She deserved it though. The abused had turned into the abuser. Kirk had been right to walk away.
But it still hurt. It hurt worse than anything she’d ever experienced.
It just hurt. Ripped her heart and offered it to the dogs hurt.
“I’m not okay,” Jeanine said through her tears. “I’ll never be okay again.”
“You will. Trust me. You have to get well. You’re strong.”
“Not strong enough for this. No, this time, I’m destroyed. George stripped everything from me. I went to see him in prison, to tell him off. To tell him I’m a winner, not a victim. But, Marcia, it gets worse.”
“You are a winner, J. You’re strong.”
“I’m afraid I’ll turn out just like him.”
“You won’t. You’ve never hurt a fly.”
“He’s my father. I’m his daughter. He told me he’s my father and that my mother was a whore.”
“Don’t believe him,” Marcia said. “He’s playing games with your head.”
“He’s telling the truth. He mentioned things that happened when I was four. Things I never told anyone. He was there. He was the man the police took me away from. My first abuser, and somehow, he manipulated the system and became a foster parent. He got me back because my mother never put his name on my birth certificate.”
“He can’t hurt you now. He can’t.”
“But he can.” Jeanine wailed long and loud, muffling herself with a couch pillow. “He’s my father and I still love him.”
* * *
Kirk parked his motorcycle in front of Jeanine’s apartment building and walked to her apartment door. Several advertising door hangers were hooked onto her doorknob, and the shades were drawn over her window. He brushed his hand through his hair and went to the balcony to look at her parking area.
It was empty, but across the street sat the same navy blue sedan he’d seen the last time he’d passed by her place. It had to be the stalker who claimed to be Jeanine’s brother.
Kirk jogged down the stairs and strode toward the car. It had tinted windows, but they were partially lowered so that whoever was inside wouldn’t suffocate.
He walked straight to the driver’s side and rapped on the window.
The muzzle of a handgun appeared at the top of the window. “Back off, nice and slow.”
Kirk put his hands up. “Lower the window. I want to talk to you.”
“Who are you?” The male voice was deep and menacing.
“Who are you?” Kirk countered. “I spent the week with Jea
nine Jewell while you sat here on your ass staking out an empty apartment.”
The window lowered, but the gun stayed aimed at Kirk. The man behind the gun was a tough looking fellow. Dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and a goatee gave him a Spanish look. At least he’d wised up and was not wearing a hoodie.
“What do you want?” the man asked.
“I want to know why you’re stalking Jeanine.”
“I’m her brother.”
“Can you prove it? Jeanine says she knows nothing about you.”
“My mother can vouch for me, and if needed we can easily do a DNA test.”
“What do you want from her? Is it her money?”
The guy kept the gun pointed at Kirk and hardened his expression. “I’m protecting her.”
“Really? If you were protecting her like you claim, you’re doing a piss poor job of it. I’m the guy who got shot defending her against that monster. Where were you?”
“The monster shot our mother. She was trying to stop him from kidnapping Jeanine. I had to rush her to the hospital.”
Kidnapping Jeanine? Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Jeanine hadn’t been waiting for Simpson. Of course she wouldn’t have put the baby in danger. What had led him to so easily believe Jeanine would betray him? Oh, right. His mother had ingrained that suspicion into him.
Kirk realized the man in front of him was still holding the gun, and he’d said something about Jeanine’s mother.
“Your mother, is she okay?”
The man slowly lowered the gun and holstered it. “She’ll live. Collapsed lung. Heals faster than your leg.”
“Does Jeanine know about this?”
“Not yet.” The man rubbed his beard shadow and shook his head. “By the way, I’m Tyson Jewell. If you’re who you say you are, we’re on the same team.”
“Meaning?”
“We both want George Simpson put away for good. Hopefully dead.”
“Agreed.” Kirk kept his gaze firmly on Tyson’s hands in case he drew his weapon. “Let me give you a hint. You’re too obvious with the hoodies and dark blue sedan. I spotted you that night you tracked Jeanine from the karate place.”
“Yeah, well, we knew Simpson was on his way to Arizona, and I actually wanted Simpson to know someone was tailing Jeanine. Warning for you.” Tyson drilled him with a solid stare. “Tell that brother of yours I have a picture of him with Simpson coming out of Jeanine’s apartment.”
“I already spoke to my brother. Simpson’s using him to write a memoir for him to get his story out.”
Tyson scowled, his entire face darkening. “He’s not getting any story out where he’s going. My mother’s pressing charges. I’m part Puerto Rican. I’ll put the word out Simpson’s a racist and wants all Latinos deported. We’ll see how long he lasts in an Arizona jail.”
“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Kirk couldn’t help smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch over my brother. He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he means well.”
Tyson stretched his hand out to shake. “So, where was my sister this past week? Don’t tell me you spirited her off somewhere.”
“She was with me, but I lost her.” Kirk shook Tyson’s hand. “Let’s make a deal. I find her, I’ll let you know. You find her, you let me know.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because you suck at tracking her. News flash. She’s not sitting in that apartment waiting for you to accost her, and she doesn’t want to see her mother, other than to blow her off and show her how much she didn’t need her.”
“So? You obviously lost her, too. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you, either.”
Kirk’s stomach cringed, but he was a pro at putting on a good show. He wasn’t about to let Jeanine’s brother think he didn’t have a handle on her, even if at this moment, Jeanine hadn’t returned his calls or text messages.
Puffing his chest out, Kirk held out his hand and gave Tyson’s a hard squeeze. “I’m the man who loves her. I got through her shell, and I’ll never give up on her. Get used to it, brother.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Jeanine spotted the dark blue sedan as soon as she rounded the corner to her apartment. A man was standing at the driver’s side speaking to someone inside the car.
She slammed on her brakes and hung a quick turn into an alley. It was Kirk talking to the stalker who’d claimed to be her brother. Had they been working together?
She pictured the man in the hoodie, bringing up his facial features. There was no family resemblance as far as she could tell. She was a blond with blue eyes, Nordic coloring and fair-skinned. He was darker with gemstone eyes, somewhat brown, but not quite. Dark brown hair and a goatee made him look Southern European—either Italian or Greek.
No, he was definitely not her brother, and he was speaking to Kirk. That warning he’d given her about Kirk had been to throw her off.
Her heart in a panic, she exited the alleyway and turned away from her apartment. Whoever was stalking her was still active, even with George in jail.
Even worse. Kirk was in cahoots with him. She couldn’t go back to her apartment and make it easy for Kirk and Tyson to accomplish whatever shady deal they had going.
For all she knew, Tyson could be Lennie and part of some revenge deal for her putting George in jail. Everyone had blamed the unknown girl back in the day, but the truth was, Jeanine hadn’t been the one who’d squealed. She was as shocked as Simpson when her social worker removed her from the house. If she was a betting woman, it would be Karen who’d finally gotten fed up and told. She ended up divorcing Simpson and keeping the Pelham Manor house while George went to jail.
Jeanine glanced in the rearview mirror and took a deep breath of relief. The two men had been deep in conversation and hadn’t spotted her. She’d lay low and check into a hotel. She couldn’t go back to work now with these men stalking her, and she no longer felt safe in Phoenix. Maybe she’d sell her half of The Hot Corner and move on. She hated to leave her friends, but the blood on their carpet was more than enough reason for her to go far away.
After letting the police know about the stalker, she checked into a hotel, then called Marcia to let her know the situation.
“You should call the police on that stalker guy,” Marcia said.
“I did already. They noted it down and said they’d send a patrol car. Fat good that would do when Tyson or whatever his name is has already been able to speak to me twice.”
“What are you going to do now?” Marcia sounded worried. “Why don’t you come to my place.”
“I can’t do that. It might bring danger to the kids. I won’t be coming back to work either. I don’t want to lead them to you and the bar. Maybe if they think I’ve gone out of town they’ll give up. I’m confused why Kirk was talking to the stalker.”
“Kirk was talking to him? Why?”
“No clue, except he must be in cahoots with him.”
“Strange,” Marcia said. “I didn’t know he was back in Phoenix. Brock said he’s been partying in Vegas. Took off shortly after he was released from the hospital. He’s off the team for now. Guess he has time on his hands.”
So, Kirk was lying about where he’d been. Now that she thought about it, Jeanine wasn’t sure if he’d been to any of the therapy sessions either. Besides, what would Dr. Sparks say if she found out they’d been sleeping together and lying about it?
An unexpected frisson of excitement jingled through her body at the reminder of how hot they’d been between the sheets.
She forced herself to focus on what Marcia was saying—something about needing Tina for a bit longer.
“Sure, I know it’s hard to find a good bartender,” Jeanine agreed. “She’s a sneak, but if I’m not around, it might be okay. Just don’t trust her with anything important.”
“I changed all our passwords, and she doesn’t have a key. I’ll be here to lock up every night.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jeanine said. “I didn�
��t mean for you to get saddled with all the work.”
“Hey, it’s a partnership,” Marcia said. “You took on more than your fair share while I was out having the baby. Relax. I’ll interview for another night manager. You figure out what you want to do. Let me know where you’re staying in case I need you.”
Jeanine gave her the name of the hotel. “It’s a resort, and I figure I’ll spend my time going to therapy and working out at the dojo. Maybe Kirk and Tyson will get tired of their games, and once Simpson is sent to state prison, we can all rest easier.”
“You can say that again. By the way, Bianca has an activity at church this evening and she was asking whether you can be her tea party partner.”
How could Jeanine turn down Bianca? It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do. She agreed to meet them later in the evening and hung up.
After a quick lunch, Jeanine drove to the dojo, checking in her rearview mirror to make sure she wasn’t followed. She was going to work out on the punching bag and the kicking pad, then maybe practice with Skye. She’d called her and left a message, then went into the locker room to change into her uniform.
Her fellow students greeted her with warm hugs. She gave them a brief rundown of the shooting and assured everyone that the perpetrator was in jail.
“It’s too bad about that baseball player,” one of the male students said. “He was the big trade the Rattlers made.”
“Hey, you heard about Skye?” another student said. “She also got shot last week.”
“She did?” Jeanine’s heart dropped. No wonder Skye hadn’t returned her text message or voicemail. “Is she okay?”
“She’s taped up but doing fine. I doubt she’ll be wrestling with you any time soon.”
“I should stop by and visit,” Jeanine said, kicking herself for not ever responding to Skye’s overtures. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so suspicious about her friendliness. After all, it wasn’t easy to make friends these days when everyone was busy or relied on social media for their snippet of social interaction.
Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance Page 25