Karma (Endgame Series Book 3)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  Big pitcher . . . average dick. Saylor. Well, they aren’t all sweet.

  Aspirin . . . you brought it. Avery. She’s versed in terms.

  Attacking the strike zone. Emberlee. She knows my game.

  The one that resonates the most is her nickname and a coveted term for a pitcher to earn. This calls for me to step up my game. Tomorrow she won’t know what hit her.

  I’m back bitches.

  My body is revolting trying to hold its weight. I got Brody to show me some new exercises because yesterday was a doozy. I had to stay hidden and watch Mason pitch while snapping pictures. Seeing his smile. His form. His love shine through. I needed more than running to stop myself from throwing myself at him.

  I trip outside of class and some guy catches me. “Sorry.” I’m embarrassed and my cheeks tint.

  “No problem. You’re in my photography class. I’m Eddie.”

  “Hey. Brecklynn. Usually I’m not clumsy.” I scoff and shake my head.

  “It’s okay. You heading—” He stops talking as an arm rests over my shoulder.

  “Hey, Doll. You wanna introduce me to your friend.” No. I don’t. Because your skin touching mine is making my brain short circuit. “I’m Mason,” he holds his hand to Eddie. “You checkin’ out my girl?”

  Mortified.

  “N-n-no. She tripped and I didn’t want her to fall.” Eddie stammers.

  “Thanks. I got it from here.” Eddie turns tail and scurries as Mason turns to me. “You okay? You look a little flushed.” He takes his hand and runs it down my face. This is gonna cost me a few extra miles tonight.

  “I’m fine.” I bite through my teeth. “And stop calling me your girl.” I stomp off but he’s on my heels.

  We reach the quad and he raises his voice. “See you later, Doll. Love you.” Oohs and aahs bounce through the students and I want to kill him. I keep walking, hoping if I ignore the bully he’ll disappear.

  No such luck. He’s waiting for me outside of my next class. “What are you doing, Mason?”

  “Walking my girl to her car. You have work, right?” I roll my eyes. “You hungry? I can take you to lunch.”

  “No, I’m not hungry.” A few baseball bunnies walk by and wave while giggling. He ignores them and I still want to pull their hair out by the root. “I’m sure they’d eat with you. They’d provide the meal.”

  “I’ll pass. I have all I want beside me.” He walks in stride as I flee to the parking lot. “Bye, babe. Love you.”

  Good lord, I’ve lost count of how many laps I’ll be sprinting tonight.

  After work there’s flowers sitting on my car.

  Love,

  Ace

  He’s gonna have me training for a triathlon.

  I’m finishing some landscape pictures in the dark room when I hear music fill the basement. Avery’s at class and I wasn’t aware anyone was here. I look for a weapon and remember Mason’s tools are under the sink. Grabbing a hammer I creep up the stairs. The room is dim, music playing, candles burning . . . and Mason fucking Adler sitting on the couch with strawberries. Chocolate covered. He spots me and flashes me his dimpled smile. “No massage this time but you’re looking thin.”

  “Mason you have to stop doing this.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Please.” I’m nearing the verge of a break down. “I can’t do this. It’s killing me.”

  “Being without you is killing me. What do I need to do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. I feel it. You feel it. I’m sorry. It was a dick move and I can promise if I was sober and not a weak bastard I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “Please, don’t talk about yourself like that. You made a mistake but it happened to be the one I feared the most.” I drop to the chair and pray when I open my eyes this will be a nightmare. I can rewind seven months and none of this happened.

  I open my eyes and he’s bent to his knees in front of me. “I love you. I fucking love you, Brecklynn. Let me in. I won’t let you down again. I swear.” I want to. God, I want to but I can’t. I don’t respond and he stands. “This isn’t over. You haven’t seen anything yet.” It’s a warning. A promise. It’s Mason . . . all in one.

  I’ve sunk to a new low. Stalking her isn’t breaking her. Wooing her isn’t doing the trick. I don’t know another way of forcing her to spend time with me . . . let me win her over again. Until today. I struck gold with my diabolical thinking.

  I’m washing my truck, listening to the radio as I wait. She’ll be rushing from the house any minute because somehow her alarm didn’t go off this Saturday morning . . . and she’ll be in a hurry to get to work.

  But I have a sixth sense her car won’t start. Of course, I know nothing about that and the spark plugs in my glove box may fix the problem.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Bang! The front door slams. She’s hopping on one foot because the other doesn’t have a shoe covering it. The black boot is hanging from her hand. Of course, our friends are at breakfast . . . twenty minutes from home . . . my treat. I’ll be meeting them as soon as I drop her off at work. Via the scenic route because she has plenty of time. Somehow her clocks may have sprung forward thirty-five minutes. She has some evil gnomes living within her walls.

  Her car door isn’t shut as she shoves the key in the ignition and . . . nothing. She takes the key out and studies it for a second and jams it back in with the same results. I could be chivalrous and go help her but I decline that role.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She rifles through her purse and pulls her cell phone out . . . which may be dead. Or disabled. She did put in a call last night suspending service because she misplaced it. I’m not sure she’ll remember that. Her groan of frustration elicits my smile so I turn my back to her.

  Whistling. Washing my truck. She pops the hood of her car and I wish I could film this without being caught. She stares at the parts but doesn’t attempt to touch anything because she has no clue what she’s doing. I let her stew a few minutes before striding over. “What’s wrong, Doll?”

  Her hair is blowing in the breeze and she grabs it behind her neck. “My fucking car won’t start. My alarm didn’t go off. My cell phone won’t work. I’m gonna be late for work.”

  “Sounds like a shitty morning.” I bite my lip. “But I know someone who may help you.” I look around her yard. “I happen to have a vehicle. That works.”

  “Can I use your cell?” She’s gonna do this the hard way. Stubborn girl.

  “Sure.” I hand it over and watch her face soften and then go stoic as she tries to school her reaction to the screen saver. Our day on the boat and lots of selfies.

  “Can you unlock it?” She hands it back to me. I don’t reach for it.

  “It’s the day you agreed to be mine. Our anniversary of sorts.” She breaks eye contact as she types in the date. Going to my contacts she scrolls to her brother’s number. It isn’t hard to find because I have few people left in my phone. Friends, parents, coach . . . that’s it. Her eyes snap to mine and I hold her glare. She didn’t want to listen to me so I’m showing her . . . the only way I know how.

  “Hey Brody.” Pause. “Yeah, I’m using his phone because mine isn’t working and my car isn’t starting. Can you take me to work?” I hear him rumble. “No, that’s okay. Yeah. Maybe.” She hangs up and hands me the phone.

  “You sure you don’t wanna call anyone else?” I innocently ask.

  “Everyone else is with him. I hate to ask . . . but can you give me a ride?” I waggle my eyebrows and get a laugh from her. “Not that kinda ride, perv. To work.”

  “Yeah. Let me change my shoes.” I head towards my house. “Truck is unlocked.” She grabs her stuff from the backseat and heads to my truck. Where she’ll find a bagel, her coffee, and a good morning note sitting against the console for her. I take a few extra seconds so I know she’s situated.

  Climbing in she is holding the note in trembling hands.
“You arranged for this awful morning?” Her voice is wavering.

  “I did. Because I wanted to show you I could turn your bad day around. Like you do for me. I needed to prove to you I’d be dependable. Here to help you, save you, support you . . . whatever you need.”

  “You . . .” she sputters. “You are too much and I know you don’t have a man card after this stunt. Was everyone in on this?” I nod.

  “But I’d lose everything; man card, baseball, money, my good looks. I’d give it up willingly if I had you back.”

  “God, you make this so hard, Mason.”

  “That’s my line.” I joke. She laughs and it fills my truck. That’s enough for today. I drive slow and let her eat her breakfast and prolong this trip to let her scent fill the cab of my truck.

  “Thanks for rescuing me. Kinda sorta. Seems how you sabotaged me I don’t know if it counts as rescuing.” She smirks.

  “Of course it does. I’m hungry . . . I could’ve gone to breakfast with everyone else and you’d be stranded. You’d still be there when I got home so this counts as part of our fairytale. Since horses are outdated, I rescued you in my shiny truck.”

  “Oh my god. You’re serious. You’re outta control.”

  “Which is why you love me.” I push.

  “I do.” She slaps her hand over her mouth.

  I pull it down and bring my lips to hers. “Too late. I heard you.”

  “I can’t, Mason.”

  “You will, Doll.” I kiss her nose. Her temple. Inhale her scent deep into my lungs. “Go to work. I’ll pick you up at four.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walk in the restaurant twenty minutes later—beaming. “Did it work?” Saylor is rocking Kinsley while Julie is scarfing down her bacon.

  “Like a charm.”

  “I can’t believe I was a hand in this. My own sister. I’m a traitor.” Brody whines.

  “And not at all dramatic,” Lee Lee rolls her eyes. He smacks her ass and shuts her up with his mouth. The green-eyed monster rears its ugly head so I turn.

  “Dude, I’m the only one with my manhood intact.” Caden brags.

  “Bite your tongue. I’ve made two kids.” Deacon boasts. Saylor throws a butter packet at him and we all laugh.

  We’re at an impasse. She isn’t letting me closer and I’m not backing down. We’re dancing around the issue. I want her back and she won’t submit.

  Fear is the most identified emotion in humans and because of my actions I instilled it in her. Now I need to ease it. It isn’t as simple as telling her . . . actions speak louder than words, so each day I make sure she sees me screaming my love for her.

  I don’t know how I got roped into this Halloween party. I hate this holiday. And a party is the last thing I’m in the mood for. Working out until three most mornings isn’t helping my cheerful disposition.

  I slip this hideous costume over my workout gear . . . it’ll make it easier when the urge hits to run later. And it will overtake me because Mason fucking Adler will be in attendance.

  I’m ready to claw some eyes from people’s skull. This party sucks. All Mason’s groupies are in attendance and I’m over it. Every time I turn around one of his dickriders is there to remind me how great he is, how he made her scream, how he’ll never be faithful . . . I know all this.

  Dressing up as Humpty Dumpty is drawing attention. It’s his fault. He wanted us all to dress as a popular nursery rhyme . . . for Julie he claimed. My ass. That’s why he’s standing across the room as the fucking wall. That Humpty Dumpty is more than welcome to sit on and wont’ fall . . . as he proclaimed when he walked in. The black sheep, Emberlee is standing next to me checking her phone. “Darby is fine. Your parents are a street over. Relax.” She rolls her eyes but puts her phone up.

  “Want to share why you’re shooting daggers at every girl here?” She pulls her top down— still self-conscious after giving birth although she’s fucking gorgeous. And thin. And rocking her black sheep outfit. Brody dressed as the little boy down the lane and he keeps following her like a lost puppy. Saylor and Deacon took the Jack and Jill rhyme and Avery is Mary, Mary while Caden is Jack Sprat. We’re a bunch of idiots.

  “I’m not.” I lie. She’s off campus, busy with the baby and her event planning. She doesn’t see what I deal with. A year ago I wouldn’t consider the idea of being exclusive with Mason and now I have to live with all his conquests. I should have stuck to my guns and never given in . . . twice.

  “They say shit because it’s all they can do. They don’t have him.” She reminds me.

  “I don’t either.” I pull the ends of my hair.

  “Because you choose that. Breck, it’s been months.” She puts her arm through mine and pulls me outside. We pass Avery and her date, Frank, on the way out. I’ll get it outta that bitch later if he’s the reason she disappears— all the time. I know after tonight he’ll get hazed by the guys . . . and because he’s on the team they’ll recruit everyone to join in.

  She stops on the porch and I exhale . . . ready to purge the fear from my gut. “He scares me. It’s why I avoided it in the beginning but now that I’ve experienced the pain of having him and losing him . . . I don’t want to do it again. I still love him.” And I did.

  “That’s not the worst thing that can happen. I know you went through hell. He did as well. And it wasn’t baseball that was the root of those problems— it was losing you.”

  “Lee Lee, he’s going places. He’s gonna be playing ball professionally. I want to finish my degree. Travel and take pictures. I don’t want to be tied down to one place and he has to.”

  “There are things called air-o-planes. You buy a ticket and it goes from one place to another. Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week.” She scoffs and pushes me.

  “Smart ass.” I check my surroundings to make sure we don’t have company. “It isn’t just that. What if he goes back to his ways of fucking and forgetting?”

  “And what if he doesn’t? He hasn’t the whole time he’s been with you. You’re the only girl he’s been with in almost two years. That matters for something. Even when you aren’t together . . . he’s faithful. Hell, you can’t say the same about me. Your brother.” I hate she’s making a point. “He’s eligible at the end of this year to leave school— do you want him making that decision without knowing the facts? He’s struggled with this injury and you know a lot of his behavior wasn’t his own.” My stomach rolls when I remember all the days the addiction controlled him.

  The shame and guilt stopped me from going to him so many times. Could I have stopped him from going down that path? “I blame myself.” Those words don’t ease the weight of my truth.

  The door crashes open, music spills but it doesn’t mask the laughter of Bimbo Betty trying to clutch onto Mason. I narrow my eyes as Emberlee grips my hand. Her laughter as she tries to climb him as he walks towards me drives me mad. “How does she stand in those shoes?” Lee Lee whispers.

  “I don’t know.” I don’t try to keep volume from my voice. It draws the dastardly duo’s attention.

  “Isn’t that your ex?” Slutty Susie tries to whisper . . . but my high school in Texas could hear her drunkenness.

  I stare at Mason, my breath lodged in my chest waiting to hear his answer. “Brecklynn’s off limits.” His tone is warning— yet lethal. His behavior puzzles me. Why did he allow her to come out here with him?

  “Ah, baby. Did she hurt you?” I’m gonna rip her vocal cords from her voice box. She doesn’t get to ask that. She’s a placeholder. A bed warmer. He steps back from her tentacles.

  I watch his muscles flex as he crosses his arms, the hard line of his mouth set, his eyes slit and harden. “You can go.” He flicks his head to the driveway and there’s no room for arguing. I watch her stumble in her ridiculous heels.

  Looking to Emberlee I can’t stop my mouth. “She should have worn skates, seems as she’s a ho-on-the-go.”

  Emberlee laughs. I cringe. Mason speaks. “They don’
t mean shit, Brecklynn. None of them. I’ve turned them down all night and I’ll continue to do so because until you’re ready to be in my bed . . . I’ll be there alone.” He clenches his fists. “Damn, you’re stubborn.” He storms inside.

  “That was classic. You’re gonna give him an ulcer.” She shoves me and this damn costume makes me tumble. And have a great fall. Stumbling right over my mistakes. My convictions. My misbeliefs.

  “I need to go.” I strip off the costume.

  “It’s late. It’s dark. Where are you going?” She’s clawing at my arm.

  “The place he calls home . . . I need to find some answers.” I rush down the driveway and I’m lucky my keys were in my pocket. Hopping in my car I drive to the baseball stadium. It’s daunting without the lights and it beckons me . . . like it holds the answers I seek.

  I stand in the place that draws him. I kick the clay, shuffle my feet and try to see life through his eyes. What draws him here? What about me will keep him? My mind is jumbled yet my heart clear. Why is it people say follow your heart? It doesn’t have a brain. It can’t warn you of danger. Hell, it doesn’t give you a signal before it breaks.

  “Whatcha doin’ here, Doll?” I shrug. “I used to think this place held all the answers.” He’s walking closer to me. “But not too long ago . . . it betrayed me. Putting your hopes and happiness in a pile of dirt is kinda dumb. It was eye opening.”

  “It was?” I murmur.

  “Yeah. All my life it’s what I knew. I was the cocky pitcher. The player. The jokester. The kid going places.”

  “What happened?”

  “You. I met you and the thrill I got playing ball morphed into the contentment I craved being in your arms. The adrenaline I sought during the game I found when I was sinking inside you. The high winning a game was replaced with the suspense of wondering what would come outta that mouth of yours. The laughter we shared. The love we created. The unity. I was one with the game and I traded that to be a part of something . . . with you. I thought it was all over when I got hurt and instead of realizing the truths I just told you, I behaved like a child and lashed out at everyone . . . including myself. I hurt the one person I promised to protect. In turn, I destroyed myself more than any injury could.”