Curve Ball (Stadium Series Book 2)

by S A Clayton

  I hate that she’s right.

  “I know.” The only problem now is how to bring it up without breaking everything into pieces.

  The more I thought about the pictures, the more anxious I became to the point where anytime someone would walk into the gym I would spin around and make sure it wasn’t someone with a camera. Mel took me aside at one point and told me to go to the cops, see if they could help, and at least I would have proof of when this all started if it ever escalated. I agreed with her and that’s why I’m currently standing outside a police station.

  My hands are shaking and I pull open the front doors and head toward the front desk. It’s empty. My heart is in my throat as I take in the room around me. There are plain cream-colored chairs on either wall and it’s obvious by the state of them that they haven’t been replaced since the eighties. There are posters adorning each wall with slogans like Drugs Kill and If You See Something, Say Something.

  As soon as my body starts to calm down, a very cheery female voice echoes behind me. “Can I help you with something?”

  I turn, taking her in. If I wasn’t so nervous, I would have burst into laughter. It’s as if someone plucked her right out of a John Hughes movie. At least she fits in with the décor. She cocks her head and raises an eyebrow in my direction.

  “I need to talk to someone about pressing charges against a potential stalker?” Just saying the words leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t know if this is a stalker situation, or if it’s just the case of the paparazzi going too far, but I do need to do something about it.

  “What are the circumstances surrounding the stalking?” she asks as the pit starts to grow again and for a split second I don’t know if I can do this. She must sense my panic because she tells me to sit in one of the chairs and she’ll come and get me when she finds someone. I give her an appreciative nod as I sit.

  It takes less than ten minutes for her to return, smiling from ear to ear, and I notice the uniformed officer by her side. The only thing I can think of when I see him is the fact that he looks like someone put Colonel Sanders into a cop uniform. His white hair and goatee are in stark contrast to his tanned skin, and I find myself smiling despite my nervousness.

  “This is Detective Martin, he will be glad to take your statement.”

  He gestures for me to follow, and I do, right into his office where he motions for me to sit.

  “What can I help you with Miss…”

  “Steven. Harper Stevens.”

  A flicker of recognition crosses his face, but in a blink, it’s gone.

  “Jennie said something about a stalker.”

  I explain in as little detail as possible, hoping to avoid more people knowing than necessary. But when he asks to see the photos, I know there’s no avoiding it.

  “They were photos of me and my boyfriend in his truck.”

  He sits back in his chair and he’s clearly not happy with that answer.

  “Okay, but I don’t see any reason for the secrecy, Miss Stevens. If you are serious about pressing charges, I need to know all of the information, no matter how sensitive.”

  I guess there is no avoiding it now.

  “They were pictures of us doing something that is normally not done in public.” I’m trying with everything I have not to say the actual words out loud.

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

  Of course I would get the dumb-ass cop that can’t read between the lines.

  “Sex, we were having sex in his truck,” I blurt, my eyes bulging as I stifle a laugh. Well at least now we’re on the same page.

  “I see,” he says, fumbling with the papers on his desk. “Do you have any idea who would have taken these photos?”

  I shake my head.

  “Any ex-boyfriends?”

  “I have one. Cole Mitchell.”

  His eyes go wide once again and this time I know he recognizes the name.

  “I see.” He looks around the room, picks up his cell phone and stands. “Will you excuse me for a second?” he asks, not waiting for my answer before leaving the room. It only takes a moment, but when he returns, he’s a completely different man.

  “Well, unfortunately without proof of who is taking the pictures, we can’t do anything at this time.” His whole demeanor changes in front of my eyes as his stare turns cold, arms crossed over his chest as he sits back in his chair.

  “What do you mean? I need solid proof? Isn’t that your job?”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “What kind of proof do I need?”

  “An email address, a name, or even a confession would be great.” He chuckles to himself as I stare at him in disbelief.

  “So you’re telling me that you can’t do anything about someone stalking me and taking pictures of me without my permission?”

  He shrugs like what I just said was the least interesting thing he’s ever heard.

  Is he serious right now?

  I stand, watching him do the same. I stick my hand out, taking his. “Mr. Martin, thank you for your help,” I say with the nicest smile I can muster as I head back toward the front doors. Jennie is still there, she waves as I pass, and I give her a smile even though inside I’m devastated.

  I knew this was going to be a mistake.

  Just as I open the front door, I walk right into a solid body. When I look up to apologize, all the color leaves my face. “Mr. Mitchell!” I stammer as he stands firm, refusing to move. I take a step back, hoping the space allows me to breathe a little easier.

  It doesn’t.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.” It’s the truth, as the chief of police, I know he spends most of his time in meetings downtown, not at the station.

  “Miss Stevens, what a surprise.” He sneers as my skin crawls the longer his eyes bore into mine. This man always gave me an uneasy feeling when I was around him. With his dark eyes and graying hair that is always so expertly styled, much like his son. His thin lips curve into a smirk. One that I know all too well. “I hope everything is alright.” His gaze sears into mine and I swear he can read my thoughts.

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble as I step around him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to be somewhere.” Not a total lie, but one that will get me out of this situation. My eyes dart as I make my way past him and all of a sudden, I’m stopped by a strong hold on my arm and a calculated voice in my ear.

  “You best think about the consequences before you go throwing my son’s name around.”

  I’m stunned into silence. How did he know?

  “It would be a shame if that gym of yours got shut down.” With that threat he lets me go and steps away, leaving me wondering how I got myself into even more of a mess than I was before.

  14

  Josh

  “What the fuck is this?” I crunch the starting lineup in my hand and make my way toward Coach’s office.

  “Anderson, you need to calm down,” Will mutters from somewhere behind me.

  I ignore him. I’m on the warpath and I need answers before I lose my shit. I know Coach warned me this would happen, but I thought it was something that would happen down the road, not a week fucking later. All eyes are on me as I head into the office where Coach is leaning back against his chair, signature drink in hand. We never know what’s in that cup, and we know not to ask too many questions.

  “What can I do for you, Josh?” Coach grins, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, and it makes the anger boil inside of me.

  “Are you enjoying this?” I grit out, hating the laughter in his eyes.

  “Not gonna lie, I kind of am.”

  I roll my eyes, holding up the starting lineup and shove it onto his desk.

  “What the hell is this?”

  His eyes cast down, then slowly make their way back to mine. He never makes a move to pick up the piece of crumpled paper because he already knows what it is.

  “Josh, we talked about this.” His joking demeanor vanishes in a flash as he lean
s forward on his desk.

  “I thought you said it would happen eventually. It’s been a fucking week, Coach!”

  He shakes his head, causing me to become even more unglued. I close my eyes and count to ten before I throw one of his fucking fake ass trophies off the shelf beside me.

  “Why am I not playing third base tonight?” I mutter through gritted teeth because any less restraint and I know I will fly right off the handle. I have prided myself on never missing a game that wasn’t due to injury. I won a gold glove because of my play at that specific position. It’s mine.

  “I thought you needed a break,” he says, taking a swig of his drink and gesturing for me to sit. I ignore him.

  “Bullshit. I don’t need a fucking break, I need to fucking play.”

  He shakes his head as I take a deep breath, calming myself somewhat.

  “You are playing, I put you as DH.”

  I hate being the DH, all I’m doing is batting, and since I’m sitting in the dugout the rest of the game, it messes with my timing, and Coach knows this. But obviously he doesn’t give a shit.

  “I see that. What I want to know is why you’re putting me as DH?” The anger inside starts to crest to the surface as I grip the edge of the wooden desk for support.

  “Management hasn’t been impressed with your play as of late. They brought T.J. up for a reason and want to see what he can do. And I want to give him that chance.”

  I roll my eyes because this cannot seriously be happening right now. T.J. is a cocky bastard that thinks he’s going to take my job from me the first chance he gets. Fat fucking chance.

  “You can’t be serious. Just because I had a few bad games doesn’t give you or them a right to give my spot to some kid who thinks he’s king shit!”

  Coach gets up from his seat and walks around his desk, making sure to stop inches from where I stand. “I want you to listen to me very closely. I am the fucking coach of this team and as much as I would love for you to get out of this slump of yours, this is out of my hands. You know as much as anyone in this game that management is the boss. What they say goes, no matter how pissy you get.” He takes his finger and puts it right in my face. “And as much as I like you, Anderson, I will not hesitate to make your life a living hell if you question my decisions ever again. Got it?”

  I stare silently. His eyes bore into mine and I give him a curt nod, spinning on my heels and making my way back to the locker room.

  I feel as if I’ve been hit over the head with a boulder. I’ve never been so angry with a coach in my entire career, and that includes peewee. I’ve earned this spot on this team and for Coach to just throw it away and give it to a kid who thinks he deserves a shot just because he had a few good months down in the minors.

  It’s bullshit.

  Will is beside me as I enter back into the locker room, holding my hand up when his mouth opens to say something. Whatever words he’s about to spew in my direction are stopped in their tracks.

  “I’m not in the mood right now. Let me get through this game and we’ll talk later.”

  He nods, squeezing my shoulder before going back to his locker and getting his uniform on.

  “Looks like I’ll be the new gold-glover third baseman on this team from now on…” T.J. boasts from across the room.

  I look up only to see the smug face of a boy that thinks that just because he has management’s approval that he’s king of the fucking castle. I shake my head, not wanting to get into it right now, and knowing that if I go off, I’ll be benched for the next few games, and I can’t risk that.

  “Got nothing to say, Anderson?” T.J. teases, pulling his uniform over his head as I glare at the logo embroidered on his chest. He doesn’t deserve to walk around with that on his chest, he doesn’t deserve to play in front of the best fans in the league.

  “Miller, mind your own fucking business and concentrate on proving you’re worth your shit, huh?” Will yells from beside me, and I fight the smile that tugs at the edges of my mouth. That is exactly what I would have said if I knew I could say it without punching him in the face first.

  “I really hate that kid,” I mutter so only Will can hear.

  “I hear ya, let’s just hope he has a shit game and everything goes back to normal tomorrow, okay?”

  I stare forward, feeling eyes on me the whole time and when I look over, T.J. is glaring daggers in my direction. His eyes dart toward Coach’s office and my eyes follow, I notice Coach is standing at the window, watching. A look passes between the two men that sets my nerves on edge. T.J.’s eyes come back to mine and I see a newfound confidence in him that wasn’t there a second ago, and I know I need to do everything in my power to make sure I prove that this is my team.

  No matter what.

  15

  Harper

  “Okay, we need to burst through that wall over there.” I point to my left and Josh motions for Will and King to follow. It’s been a few weeks since I told Mel that this was hers, and we’ve spent most of our time going over design ideas and plans. Josh has a few days off before his next series, so he and the guys have graciously decided to devote those precious days helping us out. I lean against the doorframe watching as Josh directs King on how to demolish a wall and Will nudges me as he passes.

  “Hey,” I say before he walks away. “Thanks again for helping, Mel is gonna be so happy when all this is done.”

  Will laughs at Josh and King who are now acting like children pretending to be superheroes as they bust through the wall. I met Will this morning and quickly learned just how close he and Josh are, and watching them together, their banter back and forth made me realize how important a friendship like that is, and I’ve grown to really like Will.

  King, on the other hand, is a whole other animal. He introduced himself, completely forgetting who I was and the fact that we met at the bar, and he’s the reason Josh and I met in the first place. Where Will is sweet and considerate, Cameron King is blunt and aggressive, and I know he will make some girl’s life a living hell one day, and I just hope she gives it right back to him.

  “Don’t mention it,” Will says. “You know Josh is crazy about you.”

  I blush, looking over at Josh whose eyes are on me, and he winks as he knocks down another part of the wall. Heat creeps through my veins because it doesn’t help that Josh is shirtless and every single muscle is glistening with a sheen of sweat.

  “I’m serious,” Will says again, taking me out of my very pleasant fantasy. “That man is falling hard for you, I just want you to be careful.”

  I look up at him, confused.

  “What do you mean?” The pit in my stomach drops, thinking he got copies of the pictures, making my worst nightmare become a reality.

  “He has trust issues.”

  I let out a breath because I can deal with trust issues. Piece of cake.

  “He’s been burned by some people in his life, and I honestly never thought that I would see him this happy.”

  I love the warm feeling that’s spreading through me.

  “I like him too,” I say, being as honest as I can with a guy I only met a few hours ago. “I get the trust thing, my last boyfriend was a douchebag and a half, you have nothing to worry about there.”

  I try not to think of the photos I still haven’t shown Josh as lying, but that eerie feeling creeps back into my veins and I start to panic. I’ve been waiting for more photos to show up, but I haven’t received anything since the first envelope. Mel has been scouring the gossip sites to see if they’ve leaked, but so far nothing yet. I also haven’t received any more photos, but then again Josh and I haven’t seen each other that much since his schedule has been so busy.

  Will squeezes my shoulder and says, “Good, I’m glad he’s found you. He deserves a good one.” Then he walks away toward Josh and starts to help out.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I see it’s a text from Mel saying she’s on her way. Ever since the guys started the demo, I’ve be
en dying for her to see this space. I reply, letting her know just how excited I am when another notification comes through with the subject line URGENT so I open it. The second I click on that email I regret it. Staring back at me is an attachment that appears to be a video and this time there’s a message.

  The pictures were just the beginning, the video is only a sample. Tell your boyfriend he better watch his back, or these will hit every gossip site in the city.

  There’s no signature and I find myself hesitating before I open the video. When I do, I know that this video is a thousand times worse than the pictures. Thank God there’s no sound and the quality is horrible, but the intent is clear. Embarrassment. The sample is only a couple of seconds long, but from the way my head is back and the way my body is moving, there is no denying what Josh and I are doing.

  I shut off my screen as a deep need to throw it against the nearest wall overtakes my body. I take a breath, excusing myself from the room and making my way outside to get some air.

  Feeling the breeze on my skin doesn’t alleviate the pain that’s slicing through me. What am I doing? I should have told Josh weeks ago, but I’ve been a coward and stalled. Now it’s too fucking late.

  “What’s wrong?” Mel asks from behind me as I shake my head. I have no idea what to say. Our eyes lock and I know I have to show her, I have to show someone. So I take out my phone and place it in her hand. “Fuck, Harper. Who the hell sent this to you?” she asks, watching the video.

  “I have no idea… what am I supposed to do? This video…” I trail off as I sink to the ground, leaning against the side of the building. Mel sits next to me, handing me back my phone.

  “At least you look hot.”

  I laugh despite the tears threatening to fall.

  “That dick must be stellar for you to look like that.”

  I smack her arm, laying my head back against the wall behind me.

  “You know you need to tell him, right?”

  I look over and place my head in my hands. I know she’s right, she’s been telling me to do this for weeks.