Karma (Endgame Series Book 3)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  He repeats the motion until I’m wriggling in desire but he takes it one step further. As my heated core melts the chocolate he laps every morsel from me. I’m sure there isn’t a hint of candy left but that doesn’t stop him. His fingers hold my pussy open as he dips his tongue deep inside and swirls. He doesn’t relent with his pursuit of my pleasure until I’m screaming his name and coming against his tongue.

  As he works me down he fumbles to the side and grabs a condom. Sitting back on his haunches he rips it open and sheaths himself. Scooting back to the sidewall he commands. “Climb aboard.”

  I waste no time and scramble to him impaling him with one smooth stroke. “This was gonna be sweet baby.”

  “Good intentions and all,” I pant as I ride him. His hands roam, his teeth nip, his lips soothe. My hands slam into the wall behind him for leverage and he takes my hips bringing me down harder and faster.

  “Fuck, Doll. Give it to me.”

  And I do. I give it to him until I pull it from him.

  “So did anyone besides Brecklynn have a bow chicka bow wow Valentine’s?” Saylor laughs.

  “Hey. Mind your business.” I act outraged. But I can’t help blushing at the memories of last night.

  “Speak for yourself. Brody and I . . .”

  “NO. Just fucking no. I saw what you and Brody do. I heard — for months — what you and Brody do.”

  “All I was gonna say is pregnant or not . . . I’ve got moves.” She smirks.

  “Oh, I’m not saying I didn’t get it . . . and quite well, but it isn’t like I can be pinned against a wall.” Saylor defends Deacon’s honor. “Aves you getting cobwebs? I haven’t seen or heard about a guy in over a year.”

  “She sneaks out and sometimes she doesn’t come home after her last class.” I blurt. I’m getting the scoop and I have reinforcements.

  “What?” Lee Lee screeches. “You’ve been holding out?”

  Avery sighs. “Everyone has had a lot happening the past two years.”

  “Well we’re settled now, so spill.” Saylor puts her chocolate down. She’s serious.

  “No.” She states simply but boldly. “Y’all,” she points to our bubbly waddlers, “are fixing to have babies. You,” she wields her finger at me, “are doing good and you and Mason are happy — so all of you — worry about yourselves.”

  “But worrying about your vagina and the good lovin’ it’s getting is more fun.” Emberlee causes us all to laugh.

  “Read a fucking book. Watch a damn movie. Leave me and my vagina out of the equation.” She throws a Twizzler at Lee Lee, and talented girl my future sister in law is catches it in air. This starts a catch and toss war like we’re at a Japanese steak house catching shrimp around the grill.

  “Our men would be proud. We have good aim.” Avery laughs. Hmmm . . . our men. Something is up there. Saylor and Lee Lee seem oblivious but I caught her slip of the tongue. I’ll work on her in private. If she’s dating a guy from the baseball team I can understand her keeping quiet because Caden, Mason, Deacon, and Brody will give the poor sucker hell.

  We finish watching our marathon of Sleepy Hollow and all things Lorelei before we split up. Mason texts me and lets me know they arrived and will call before heading to bed. I settle in the guest room and pull up my email. I’m giddy I received my plane tickets and an email from another intern.

  Christopher Nellis. I respond to his email and we banter back and forth before he asks for my number and calls me. He has me in stitches and I learn he’s in school at Boston and informs me all the artsy types choose New England area and why was I in Kansas. I share some history and he fills me with stories of he and his boyfriend. In the hour conversation I feel as if I’ve made a lifelong friend and won’t be so lonely during this trip. Mason still hasn’t called so I fall asleep holding my phone.

  “Adler?” Coach called as I was boarding the team bus.

  “Sir.” I paused and stepped to the side.

  “Come here.” He was standing with Brody and the trainer. As I got closer he was staring at the stat sheet attached to his clipboard. We’d won the first game but the second game was a tough loss and none of us were in a good mood. “Your fast ball is losing speed. It was a consistent thing these games. You okay?”

  Fuck. My shoulder is still bothering me and it doesn’t matter how many stretches I do . . . it’s just not helping. “My shoulder is a bit tight but nothing major.”

  He nods. “When we get home I want you looked at.” He turns to the trainer and speaks. “Check it out. We don’t need an injury this early in the season.”

  We load the bus and silence greets me. One thing the team agrees with . . . we don’t lose graciously. “All good?” Caden whispers.

  “Yeah. My shoulder is off so I have to go get it looked at when we get home.” Which screws up all plans of going to my girl and showing her how much I missed her.

  “Need anything?” His eyes roam my face.

  “Nah. It’s good. Probably a pinched nerve or a muscle needs to be worked.” I hope that’s all it is.

  “Rotate back.” The doctor asks me while James, the trainer, is making notes on his iPad. “Rotate forward.” Shit, that hurts. “Other shoulder.” He finishes his exam and looks at the x-rays he took. “Good news. There’s no tear and I don’t feel cartilage free floating. I’m gonna set up a physical therapy schedule but I don’t see any cause for concern.”

  “Great.” I smile through thin lips. I hate physical therapy and I don’t want to miss games. I need my stats up and to remain stable to get a shot at scouts looking at me next year.

  “I’ll give my recommendations to Coach Gill and he’ll get updates from your therapist but I would suggest until this subsides you don’t play the entire game. A few innings.”

  “No.” His eyebrows raise. “I’ll work and get this fixed.” Pulling me out will stick out like a sore thumb to some teams.

  “Mason, you don’t do this right and there could be a bigger problem. Let’s do things my way.” He hands me some pills. “These are anti-inflammatory,” a second bottle, “and muscle relaxers. I’ll see you in a few weeks to reevaluate.”

  As he leaves I hop from the table and put my shirt on. “Be here at eight in the morning. Coach and I will discuss a game plan with Brody.” My first class is at nine so that makes my day start earlier — which means less time with Brecklynn. I nod my affirmative and leave.

  She’s at work and all I want is a long shower and her. I resign myself to being alone and take the time to finish some classwork I’d missed with travel. I pop a muscle relaxer before climbing in the steaming shower and allow the water to ease my sore muscles. My head feels foggy and I stumble from the shower and without bothering to dress I face plant on my bed. My last thought is my assignments can wait— I’m beat.

  Caden shaking me wakes me up. It’s light outside and I’m disoriented. “Dude, Coach is blowing my phone up looking for you.” Shit. I jolt up and rub my face.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon.” I slept for seventeen hours.

  “Fuck.” I grumble. “That damn pill knocked me out.” I look around my room and I swear I can smell her light floral scent. “Was Breck here?”

  “Last night. She couldn’t wake you so she went home.” Double Fuck.

  I start searching for clothes and dressing in a hurry. “I gotta go. I’ll handle it.” Speeding to campus, I rush to Coach’s office. “Sorry.” I apologize as I enter.

  “I said eight. I’m pretty sure that passed.” He isn’t happy with me.

  “I know. I took a pill the doctor gave me and I don’t think it agreed with me.”

  The frown disappeared from his face. “Sit down.” He clicks his keyboard and informs me of the regimen I’m to comply with. “I want you in therapy three days a week. I’m not letting you play the next week, at least. After a new evaluation we’ll see where we go.”

  “Coach. No. You can’t take me off the mound.”

  “A
dler it pains me to do so. You’re the best damn pitcher I’ve seen in decades and I’m doing this for your future. Do what needs to be done so you can continue the career you have in front of you. And go easy with the pills. Talk to Doc and see if he can lower the dosage.” He faces me and I know arguing won’t do any good.

  “Yes sir, I’ll go set up my appointments.” I drag ass to the therapy office and arrange the schedule to do what’s required to coincide with the days Brecklynn works. At least it’ll kill some time.

  I don’t understand the fuss. It’s a strained muscle. I’ll suck it up and prove to them this week I’m good as gold and I’ll be pitching from the mound before anyone realizes I was gone.

  I check the time and my girl should be at home so I’ll go to her and make up for flaking last night. I drive back to the neighborhood and park at my house but I notice her car is home . . . and Avery’s isn’t. Score for me.

  I walk in and hear music coming from her room. I sneak in and take her in for a minute. She has a suitcase and some papers by her side, and a red pen in her mouth. “Going somewhere?”

  She jumps as I startle her. “Holy shit, Ace. You scared me.”

  “Sorry I was exhausted last night.” I go to her and pull her up, ignoring the protest of my shoulder.

  “It’s okay. Deacon said you hurt your shoulder?” Her head tilts.

  “No. It’s just tight. Everyone is over reacting.” My grouchiness returns and I regret the tone of my voice with the way she steps back from me. “Sorry, Doll. I just left coach’s office after missing my initial meeting and he’s taking me off the mound. I’ve never missed a game and now I’ll miss several.”

  “Better safe than sorry.” Her words gnaw at my nerves and I bite my tongue to stop myself from snapping. I need to talk to the doc because the side effects of these pills suck.

  “So where are you going?” I nod to her suitcase.

  “I got the itinerary and plane tickets to Saipan while you were gone. I chatted with another student who’ll be there and he sent me a list to prepare. This is like his fourth trip with the photographer so he’s pretty well rehearsed.”

  “It’s a month away.”

  “I know but I’m so excited.” I should be excited for her but as she’s finding her dream mine could be yanked from me.

  I kiss her nose. “I’m happy for you,” I lie. “But who is this guy you chatted with?”

  “Chris. He’s a hoot. Lives in Boston. He’s gonna kind of be guide and mentor.” She’s so excited and I’m getting pissed.

  “Alright. I’m gonna head home and catch up on school work.” Her smile falls but she catches herself.

  “Love you. Call me if you need help.”

  “Love you.” I barely brush my lips against hers and retreat to my house to lick my wounds. I open a textbook and rush through my assignment. I’m grateful school comes easy to me but after the fourth one I’m losing focus dwelling on the shit muddling my mind. I eye the prescription bottle.

  It’s wrong but I was able to escape my mind for hours last night. I’ll cut the dose in half so I’ll be able to function tomorrow but escape my reality tonight. I snap the pill in half, swallow it dry and head to the living room, making sure I set my alarm. I zone watching ESPN and fall asleep without the doubt and anger in my mind.

  Physical therapy is pissing me off.

  Watching the guys practice is pissing me off.

  Brecklynn’s impending trip — yep, pissing me off.

  That’s how I find myself in Deacon’s basement trying some exercises Brody came up with because apparently after two weeks of rehabbing my shoulder with a therapist — I’m found to be difficult and still not pitching. Their fucking happiness and banter is pissing me off.

  “Mason, don’t lift and turn that way. Damn it, listen.” Brody snaps. “Coach is worried you aren’t coming back and if you don’t stop fucking around you’re gonna ruin your career.” I’ve heard that same song and dance. I’m lifting heavier weights; building my strength to show these assholes I’ve got this. The shoulder is sore but I’m dealing.

  “I went to the batting cages last night. I feel fine.” He stares at me and corrects my stance. When he turns to Deacon to complain once again I snap.

  “Anal.” My breath is ragged with the reps I just completed.

  “Do what?” Brody snarls. Relax asshole; I’m not doing that to your sister. Hell, I’m not doing anything with her because the pills knock my ass out.

  “Anal. You should’ve had anal. I wouldn’t have to listen to this shit, and you wouldn’t be going through it.” I drop the weight. “I’m outta here.”

  Back to my house to shower and relax. Via a pill.

  Fucking finally. Four weeks of twiddling my thumbs I’m back on the mound. Off the pills and my girl is in the stands wearing my jersey.

  I rotate my neck and watch for Caden’s signal. My shoulder is a bit stiff but I’m working through it. I shake my head not liking the pitch Caden is signaling for. He holds one finger up and taps the outside of his thigh. Fastball and away from hitter. I nod and wind up. One more strike is all we need for this inning to be over and win this game in the next inning. With the next rotation of my arm I extend to release the ball and pain sears my shoulder causing me to release the ball and I hit the clay with my knees as a blinding burn takes root.

  “Strike.” I hear the ump yell as Brody comes to the field and the head trainer follows.

  “You okay, Adler?” I look up to him and see Brecklynn standing and squeezing Avery’s hand. I stand and nod — but leave the mound. I can’t throw shit with this pain. “Need to go to the locker room?”

  “Yep.” I grit through my teeth. This fucking hurts and I’m scared shitless. “Tell your sister I’m fine.” I follow the lead trainer back to the locker room and facilities so he can look at it.

  Pulling, stretching, range of motions test . . . all tells me what I know. My shoulder is fucked. He gives me an injection in my joint followed by some pain pills and tells me he’ll take me to the team doctor in the morning. In the meantime, ice and heat rotation, the pills he gave me for pain and swelling. I don’t ask the question mulling in everyone’s mind.

  I don’t want to hear the word tear.

  Or injury.

  Or game ending.

  Brecklynn’s waiting outside the door for me and I try and throw my arm over her shoulders until the pain stills me. “Be careful. Let’s go, I’ll drive you home.”

  “The keys are in my bag.” I mumble. How fucking sad is it I can’t hold my girl.

  “What’d he say?” She asks as she rifles through the equipment in my bag.

  “Don’t know. Have to have a scan tomorrow.” I’m beating myself up. Instead of letting myself rest as advised . . . I pushed and pushed. I may have just fucked up everything.

  “Want me to go with you?” I do.

  “Nah. I’m sure it’s nothing.” If I got bad news I knew I’d need some time to process and don’t want her to see me like that. I swallow. “Come on. I’m beat. He gave me some pills so I need a bed before I collapse.”

  The drive is silent and my eyelids are heavy. I walk in and she follows. She pulls the sheets down and helps me lift my jersey over my head. While I’m working to get my pants and cleats off, she leaves the room. Coming back with an ice pack she guides me to the bed and grabs a towel. Making a makeshift wrap she applies the ice and kisses my cheek as she brings the covers over me. “Don’t go.” I whisper.

  Fear is clawing at me.

  Pain is numbing my senses.

  Drugs lower my inhibitions.

  Love makes me crave her. She scoots in behind me being careful to avoid touching me . . . that doesn’t work for me. “Move to the other side.” I move so my injured arm is closest to the wall and pull her to my chest with my good arm. “Better.” I mumble against her head and let sleep pull me under.

  The air was electric last night. Seems the entire school came for the game to see Mason’s return to th
e mound. I’d had a jersey made — sporting #24 — and wore it proudly. The spark in his eyes showed me he’d reward me for my blatant show of ownership . . . and then I watched a disaster come to fruition in front of my eyes.

  Saw the grimace stretch across his face when he released the ball.

  Felt the knife to my heart when he realized it was bad.

  Held him tight as he tossed and turned — sleeping because of the medication.

  I’m wide-awake as he stirs with purple bags under his eyes, which are bloodshot red. “Hey, Ace.” I kiss his cheek as he struggles to wake up.

  “Good morning, Doll.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to skip classes and go with you today?”

  “Nah. I’ll have the trainer and Coach there.”

  “I think Brody is gonna be there.” I know he is. I texted him last night begging him.

  “Great. Don’t ask him any questions. I’ll call you as soon as I get the results.” He pulls from me and heads to the shower. This hot and cold shit is getting old.

  I can’t focus in class; I’m checking my messages every fifteen seconds. As literature is dismissing my phone rings and it’s my brother. I feel guilty because I’m gonna do precisely what Mason asked me not to. “Hey. Is he okay?”

  “He’s still getting a scan. Emberlee’s water broke. Avery’s in route with her.”

  “I’ll be there in a few. Love you.” It slips and I realize this isn’t our normal banter. Mason’s opening more than my eyes to another world. He’s changed my ability to express myself.

  “Hurry. Your niece is coming.” And here I thought he studied those books — it’ll be hours, possibly a day before he holds his daughter.

  “Do I need to grab anything?” He pauses.

  “Swing by the house. She has a bag packed in the downstairs closet. I don’t know if she had a chance to grab it.”

  Done and done. The bag was there so I grabbed it and hurried to the hospital. Brody, Emberlee’s parents, Avery, Caden, Deacon, and Saylor — they’re all standing in the waiting room. “I’m updating everyone,” my brother says as he takes her bag from me. “She’s four centimeters and dilating quick.”