Tyler flicked his head toward home plate. “Come on. Pack up.”
We walked over to the dugout in silence. Once inside, I packed my bag, removed my cleats, and slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops.
As Tyler changed into his tennis shoes, he said, “I’ll get the lights and meet you at your car. We can go get a shake and fries before you head home. I know you like dunking your fries into your shake.” He grinned. It was the same cocky grin that made the girls I’d seen watching us occasionally swoon over him, especially with his blond locks that had a way of curling around his ball cap, and, of course, his ocean-blue eyes.
He was sweet, trying to cheer me up. We’d met when I’d barged into Coach Dean’s office right after I moved here in July. I wanted to talk to him about tryouts and the schedule. I didn’t think the coach would be busy. After all, it was summertime, and baseball didn’t ramp up until tryouts in the fall. Boy, how wrong I’d been. I’d walked into Coach’s office without knocking, and interrupted a meeting between Tyler, Coach Dean, the football coach, and a scout for a large university. Immediately, Coach jumped out of his desk chair, yelling at me for my lack of manners, and to get out. As I slumped my shoulders, cowering like a turtle retreating into her shell, someone in the room had snorted. As I scurried out, I caught a glimpse of Tyler with a grin on his face. Since that day we’d become friends, mostly hanging out on the ball field for practices.
I wasn’t sure if Coach Dean put him up to it or if Tyler just felt sorry for me because Coach humiliated me. In either case, it didn’t matter. I’d made one friend, and to me an important one. He knew the game of baseball well. Maybe the fresh start was panning out.
“Okay” was all I said as Tyler grabbed his bag and ducked into the tunnel.
Then I lifted my Van Halen T-shirt and tied it into a knot to let the night air cool my sweating skin. The style wasn’t the best-looking fashion statement, but I didn’t care. It was approaching nine p.m. Who would see me at this time of night? Then I remembered Tyler wanted to grab a bite to eat. I shrugged. I’d make myself presentable before we got to the restaurant.
I threw my bag over my shoulder as I walked off the baseball field of Kensington High in Ashford, Massachusetts. Dad and I had chosen this school because it had a better academic program, and a better coach than the other schools we researched. I hoped for the umpteenth time that we had made the right decision.
Once at my car, I fished my keys out of my purse. I drove a beat-up Mustang, compliments of my dad. He was trying to restore it. But time was non-existent for him. He had recently opened a new nightclub in the heart of Cambridge, a city known for college kids and a vibrant music scene. He also owned a nightclub in LA managed by Rob, my twenty-two-year-old brother. He had offered to stay in LA and run the business for Dad. In addition to his nightclubs on both coasts now, Dad also owned and managed Eko Records, a well-known label that had signed many top-ten bands and pop singers. The flexibility of the business afforded him the opportunity to work from anywhere.
I took off my ball cap, running my hand over my long brown ponytail. I threw my bag in the backseat and slid into the driver’s side. Dad had said to let it idle a few minutes to get the oil circulating before taking off. I inserted the key into the ignition and turned. The click, click, click sound wasn’t good. I tried again. Nothing.
Shit! I banged my hands against the steering wheel. Damn car. Dad and I needed to have a talk about better transportation.
Heaving a sigh, I got out of the Mustang, looking around. The sports complex stood slightly to my right with the ball field on its left. Aside from Tyler’s SUV, the only other vehicle was a black truck, which sat under a tree in the far corner of the parking lot. I glanced out at the field, but didn’t see anyone. What was taking Tyler so long? The lights to the stadium were still on, which meant he must’ve gotten tied up with something.
Ducking half my body back into the Mustang, I lifted my purse off the seat when a loud thump on the back of my car startled me. My heart rate kicked into overdrive.
I jerked my head up. Some guy I didn’t know stood behind my car. Panic set in. Since the police hadn’t found the creeps who had invaded our home and murdered my mom and sister, I’d been extremely paranoid.
I opened my glove compartment, grasped the handle of my nine-millimeter handgun, then slowly got out. The stranger seemed frozen. He stared at me as though he were contemplating his next move. I released a quiet breath, placing my free hand on the roof of my car and the other behind my back then met his gaze. All sense of where I was vanished in that moment. The copper eyes staring back at me made my whole body quiver and my brain seize.
Calm down. Calm down. Yeah, right. Between the sudden panic attacks that had become normal for me and trying hard to keep from blacking out, I was screwed.
Forget the tingles. My freaking belly had a thousand butterflies fluttering inside. I swallowed in order to get the saliva to coat my dry throat. Jeepers, I needed one of those five-gallon jugs of ice cold Gatorade that a team usually throws over the winning coach.
After a few more swallows, I decided to give my voice a shot. The last thing I wanted to do was show fear. Once I showed any sign of it, I was afraid he would grab me with those muscular arms and drag me screaming into the nearby woods, where he would kill me the way they killed my sister and mom.
“You…have a problem?” I asked. I didn’t think this guy was going to hurt me, but I couldn’t be sure. Regardless, I had the gun in my hand, and I was committed now.
“You need help?” the stranger asked as he stepped around the car toward me.
“I wouldn’t come any farther,” I warned. My fingers wound tightly around the handle of the gun. My muscles were tense enough to burst at any second.
When we moved to Massachusetts, I begged Dad to let me learn gun safety and how to shoot. Reluctantly, he’d only given in because I was going to be by myself on most nights, since he would be working at the club. So we joined the local gun club. No, I wasn’t supposed to be carrying a gun. I forgot to remove it from my car after practice this morning. If Dad found out, I’d be in a load of trouble.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” The guy stopped at the back edge of the car and turned his head left then right in quick succession.
The parking lot lights hit his face at just the right angle to illuminate his copper eyes with lashes so long that I shivered. Butterfly kisses. I imagined the light touch of those lashes skimming over my face or anywhere on my body. I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him, but just that thought made my gaze wander slowly down his entire muscular body. His blue—or was it black?—T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest, emphasizing the word Zeal. I didn’t know if it was just a word he liked, or if it was the band my father had signed. I continued my obvious assessment, holding the gun as steady as my trembling hand would allow while my eyes landed on his faded, worn jeans that hung low on his hips, tattered at the knees. “None of your business. What do you want?” I asked.
He took one step closer, and I whipped my hand around, aiming the gun at him.
He backed away, raising his hands to shoulder height, and as he did, his T-shirt lifted, exposing a small area just above his belt that made me suck in air.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I was just looking for my brother. He said he would be down here practicing.” His voice was calm, and his relaxed shoulders told me he wasn’t frightened at all.
I slanted my head to one side and a bead of sweat slid down my temple.
“I’m serious. Put the gun away. I’m not going to hurt you. I go to school here,” he said in a husky tone.
“Prove it.” My voice was calm and steady, which shocked me. I wasn’t convinced this dude was a high school student. He looked older.
He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that caressed my skin as though his tongue were licking every inch of my body. “And how do you suggest I do that?” He still had his hands in the air, revealing his taut ski
n above the waist of his jeans, causing tingles to spark inside me.
The bright lights of the ball field suddenly went off, the area around us darkening. He used those seconds to make his move. He was now standing six inches in front of me while my hip was pressed against the driver’s door.
I lifted my gaze to meet his, and my heart practically stopped cold. His masculine scent of cedar breezed over me as his honey-brown hair fell over his forehead. Up close he was downright gorgeous. His eyes flashed with playful intensity as though he dared me to use the gun, and that just pissed me off. Gorgeous or not, this guy wasn’t taking me seriously.
“Well? You didn’t answer my question,” he said in a gruff tone.
I’d forgotten the question. So I said the first thing that was stuck in my brain. “And you haven’t proved you go to school here,” I said. I had a feeling that wasn’t the answer.
His lips twitched and dimples emerged. Uh-oh! My biggest weakness.
Get it together, girl. I was doing a bang up job of scaring away this stranger. My self-defense instructor would clearly give me an F for this one.
He shook his head slightly as if to say I was crazy. “If you’re going to use that thing in your hand, now is your best shot,” he said as he pressed his chest into the gun, his hands still in the air.
Stupid move. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t want to shoot him or anyone.
“Isn’t that you?” he countered. His voice had a playful edge to it.
Yeah, I was. How did he know? Dr. Meyers diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, after I’d found Mom and Julie’s bodies dead on the kitchen floor. Exposure to a traumatic event can trigger such things as panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, fainting or blackouts, memory loss, and others. Sometimes a person may feel as if they’re going crazy, my doctor had explained.
“Do you normally pull a gun on everyone who comes near you?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Do you normally bang on cars, freaking people out in the dark?” I retorted.
He narrowed his eyes.
I did the same. It seemed we were at an impasse.
“Well, use it or put it away. I’m not going to hurt you.” A mocking grin threatened on his kissable lips.
“What’s going on here?” Tyler asked as he came running out from the sports complex, panic in his voice. “Lacey.” Tyler skidded to a stop, facing the stranger and me. “What the heck are you doing?”
“What took you so long?” I asked Tyler without taking my eyes off of the stranger.
“I couldn’t find the key to the electrical panel for the lights. Kade, man, what did you do to her?”
What kind of name was Kade?
Kade slowly turned to Tyler, a muscle working in his strong jaw. “What did I do to her? Are you serious, man? Tell your girlfriend here to lower the weapon. I don’t want any trouble. I was looking for Kelton. He said he’d be down here.”
“What? Your brother is back? Since when?” Tyler’s voice hitched.
Why was he shocked that some guy was back?
“Get the fucking gun off me, then I’ll explain,” Kade said.
Tyler lightly touched my arm. “Lacey, please. He goes to school here. He’s cool.”
I didn’t move.
“Come on,” Tyler prodded. “Put it away. Kade isn’t going to hurt you.”
Of course, Kade wasn’t going to hurt me. If he were, he already would have. Still, I was afraid that if I lowered the weapon now I would collapse when the adrenaline rush was over, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot. What the heck was I thinking? Which was more important—looking like an idiot, or my own safety?
Suddenly, in a blur Kade had the clip out of the gun and was handing both pieces back to me. Smooth move. It seemed he knew a thing or two about guns, and as morbid as it sounded, I was turned on even more by this sexy guy.
“Next time, don’t get so paranoid,” he said. “You could kill someone.”
A wave of anger doused any remaining desire, and the buzzing in my head started again. Who was he to tell me not to get paranoid? Impulsively, my fist shot out and connected with his nose, and his head bobbed back as blood splattered out.
“Damn, woman. What the fuck was that for?” He grabbed his nose.
“Lacey?” Tyler stepped in between Kade and me. “What are you doing?” Horror was etched on his face.
“He’s an asshole,” I said as I held back the pain throbbing through my hand.
“So what? Do you hit all assholes? That’s not you,” Tyler said.
“What do you know about me?” Tyler didn’t know everything about my life. He knew my mom and sister died, but I told him it was a car accident, as I told every friend of mine in California. Very few people knew the details. I had an extremely hard time talking about it. The cops had asked that we keep the facts close to our chests. Based on some of the evidence they found, they speculated that the home invasion was part of a bigger case, and they didn’t want to compromise their efforts to catch the culprits. They kept the specifics out of the media. Still, eight months later, law enforcement wasn’t any closer to finding out what happened. The thought alone compounded my anxiety.
“I’m sorry, Lacey. You’re right. Let’s go,” Tyler said.
“I can’t. My car won’t start.” My voice shook with fury. I had to calm down or a panic attack would take over again. As the buzzing in my head roared, I took a deep breath.
“Kade, man.” The guys matched in height at about six-foot, although Kade was broader through the shoulders than Tyler. “I haven’t seen Kelton tonight. If I do, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”
In Kade’s eyes, I saw anger, confusion, and then nothing. It was like my teacher just erased the mathematical expressions from the board, and all that was left was a blank slate. A shiver went up my spine, and not the good kind. I hated looks like that. My mom had always said, “Honey, watch out for those who show no emotion. Those are the ones that will eat you alive.”
I narrowed my eyes at him in return.
“Fine. I’m sure my brother will be home soon,” he said and seared me with a fierce look before he stalked off.
“Are you okay?” Tyler wrapped his arms around me.
“I’m fine. He’s a bit of a jerk, isn’t he?” I pushed gently against his chest. I wasn’t looking for comfort. Maybe he was, though.
“Wouldn’t you be if someone pulled a gun on you?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he gave me some breathing room. “I don’t know what spooked you, but what’s with the gun? I didn’t know you carried one.”
“I know how to use one, if that’s what you’re worried about. I practice a lot.”
Fear plagued his handsome features. “You’re only seventeen, Lacey. Do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if they catch you with that at school? Are you trying to screw your chances of making the baseball team?”
It was like I’d fallen into the frigid waters off the coast of Alaska. I wasn’t thinking about baseball when I drew the gun. I wasn’t thinking at all.
My shoulders slumped. He was right. I had to remember to take the weapon out of my car the next time. I didn’t want to throw away all my hard work. God, I’d been doing so well since we moved here. I still had nightmares, but little in the way of panic or anxiety attacks until tonight. Dr. Meyers had warned me about triggers. Certain stimuli could set me off.
“Hey,” he said, taking the gun and clip from me then setting them down on my front seat. “I know you’re scared.” He cupped my face with his large hands. “I can see the fear in your eyes. Kade wasn’t going to hurt you. He can be intimidating, though.” His head dipped slightly, but his blue eyes never left mine. “Okay?”
I let out a sigh and blinked. I wasn’t scared. Whatever expression he saw on my face wasn’t that. It was more irritation with myself for how stupid my actions were tonight.
“I’ll give you a ride. We’ll grab a bite another time.” He raised my hand to inspect the redness acro
ss my knuckles. “You’ll need to put ice on this when you get home.”
I yanked it away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Grab your stuff and let’s go.” Frustration roughened his voice.
I snatched my bag from my car, threw the dismantled parts of the gun into it, locked my door then slid into Tyler’s SUV.
As we drove in silence through Ashford, I gazed out the side window. Large houses dotted the tree-lined streets. An old man walked his dog at a leisurely pace, allowing the small animal to sniff every shrub and tree along the way.
Within fifteen minutes, Tyler rolled into my driveway. I lived in a modern New England-style brick home. In my neighborhood most homes were designed the same—three dormers, a deep front porch running the length of the house, two-car attached garage.
Stopping behind Dad’s car, he cut the engine. He turned and placed his hand on my knee. “Lacey, are you going to be okay?”
I stared at his hand. We were friends. Did he want to be more? “I’m fine.” I wasn’t. Christ, how stupid was I for grabbing my gun? What if I had panicked? Oh, yeah—I had. Okay. What if I’d shot Kade? I silently berated myself for my stupidity. Would Kade retaliate? That wasn’t something I wanted to think about. If he did, I’d probably roll over and ask him to scratch my belly.
“Thanks for tonight,” I said, holding the door, ready to jump out. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me this summer.”
“Get some rest,” Tyler said softly. “Tomorrow is your first day in a new school. It should be fun.”
I didn’t move from the vehicle.
“What?” Tyler asked.
“Who is that Kade guy?”
“He’s no one that you need to be concerned about. Now go.”
“Tyler, I just pulled a gun on him. You need to tell me more.”
“I will, but not tonight.” He glanced at the dashboard. “It’s getting late. You need a ride in the morning?”
I stared at him.
“Seriously. He’s not going to come after you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried about him,” I lied. While a small part of me thought Kade would retaliate, a larger part of me worried I might fall for him. Getting involved wasn’t in my plans.
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