I’ll gladly leave and never return. “If I leave, Mom’s coming with me.”
His eyes narrow. His arm swings out, pointing back at her. “She’s mine and if you try taking her, I’ll kill you where you stand, Blake!” he yells.
As if to prove his point, he turns and lunges for Mom. Once again, I intercept. Jack doesn’t mind at all. Two quick punches to my ribs steals the air from my lungs. I take my own jab, but he’s a man on a mission and no matter how many punches I hit him with, he won’t slow down. My torso, namely my ribs are his target. I can already tell this week is going to be hell.
“Stop!” Mom shouts. “Blake, that’s enough!” I feel a pull on the back of my shirt and know it’s her.
Breathing heavily, I shove Jack away from me and hold my hands up. Mom comes to stand in front of me, her hands on my chest. Concern flashes in her eyes, but I lift my gaze back to him. Jack wipes the blood from his nose away with his hand, watching carefully as Mom pushes me farther away.
“That’s enough,” she says again.
“Fine. Go get a few of your things.” There’s no way I’m leaving her here with him.
“No,” she says quietly. Her words don’t sink in until I see Jack grinning.
I glance at her. “What? Mom, you can’t—”
“I’m not leaving, Blake.” I open my mouth to argue with her, but she adds, “I’ll be fine. Go home, please. Please.”
My mouth hangs open as I stare at her in disbelief. After all of this, after calling me scared to death, she’s going to stay?
“You heard her,” Jack speaks up. “Get the fuck out.”
I don’t bother looking at him. Mom doesn’t say anything else. Turning, I leave, every step feeling like one in the wrong direction.
As I drive home, it hits me. She’s never going to leave. An image of a body bag being carried out of the house shakes me to the core. It makes me want to turn around because if she doesn’t leave soon, that’s her future. How could she not want to leave?
Numb from her answer, the aches and pains from his punches get the best of me. I’m on autopilot as I grab a bottle of whiskey. After locking the front door, I head to my room. No matter how I try to view it, I can’t wrap my head around why she’d stay. I lift the bottle to my lips, wincing at the pain around my ribs. My phone beeps with a text.
Sofia: I was thinking about you. What are you doing?
Talking to her right now probably won’t be a good idea. My head hurts just thinking about avoiding any questions she’ll ask. I switch the sound to vibrate and toss the phone to the side. Sofia can wait until later. Tonight, all I need is the whiskey.
FREEZING WATER POURS on me, jolting me awake. “Fuck,” I mutter. Again? What the hell? I reach forward and turn off the water, seeing Hector and Felix standing on the other side of the tub. What are they doing here? Damn. Hector’s fault, I’d bet. My famous scowl is on my face as I glare at Felix.
“Why are you here?”
“Because you locked the door, and I needed his help. I couldn’t get up with Sofia, so it was Felix instead. Deal with it,” Hector answers.
Sofia? God, he’s tried calling her? What the hell for?
I narrow my eyes at him. “You shouldn’t have tried calling her to start with.”
“Well, I did. You need to get yourself ready for practice and thanks to us, you have plenty of time.” A phone rings and Hector pulls his from his pocket, looking at me. “Do you want me to answer or ignore her?”
“Ignore her.” I just want Felix out of here. It’s one thing for Sofia to have been here last time or for Hector to show up this time, but Felix needs to go. “I’ll smooth things over with her later,” I tell him, sighing. Flicking my eyes at Felix and the Hector, I realize it’s probably good that they woke me up. “Thanks.” I stand, wincing and holding my breath at the pain around my ribs, and add, “Y’all can go now.”
“That’s it? Thanks and a get out. No one is going to explain this?” Felix looks between the two of us.
“No. I don’t have to explain a damn thing. Hector dragged you here, not me. Now, if you don’t mind, get the fuck out of my house,” I snap.
Thankfully, Hector gets the ball rolling and says, “C’mon, let’s go.”
I grab a towel to finally dry off. Bruises now cover my torso. That’ll be fun to deal with until they disappear as if this never happened. I shed the rest of my clothes, wrap the towel around my waist, and walk into my room to check the time. Hector was right. I’ve got plenty of time. I return to the bathroom to shower, not looking forward to practice at all. Hopefully, I can even get there early and change before anyone else arrives.
Once I’m done, I grab my phone to check my notifications. Nothing from Mom, but lots of texts from Sofia. I pull them up and read them.
Sofia: Are you okay? Hector called me but I missed it. He said on my voicemail something was wrong.
Sofia: Blakey, answer me.
Sofia: Don’t shut me out again. Talk to me. I can help with whatever you’re dealing with.
Sofia: Damn you, Blake, answer my calls!
I close the window and pull up the one for calls. As I grab my stuff and head out the door, I call Mom. Each ring feels like a lifetime passing before she finally answers.
“I’m okay, Blake.”
“Are you sure? What happened when I left?”
“Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?” Damn it. If she’s ignoring my questions, it’s bad. I’m not in great shape and I can only imagine what kind of shape she’s in.
“Mom, I will come there right now and check myself if you don’t answer me.”
“I’ve been worse. I’m worried about you though. Are you okay? Can you still play?”
“I’m fine. Just sore and bruised. Better off than you, I’m sure. You should have left with me.” I shake my head at the thought.
“I know you don’t believe it, but it would have been worse for both of us if I had.” She might be right, but we don’t know that for sure. “I think I have a plan worked out and I will explain later, but he’s almost home and I need to finish the housework. I will explain everything soon, but please trust me. I love you, Blake. I love you more than anything else in this world. Please always remember that.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’ll pick you up for breakfast in the morning and you can explain, okay?” I need to know her plan. If I could demand it right now, I would.
“Okay. I promise. Go to practice and stop worrying about me.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up.
I’m the first in the locker room, thankful that I can change before anyone gets here. My teammates start trickling in soon enough, though. I keep my head down and do my best to look unapproachable. No one wants to poke a bear. Or in this case, Grumpy.
Aside from Hector that is.
He walks next to me, running his mouth about something. We start our stretches and I bite my tongue to distract myself from the discomfort with my ribs. I ignore it the best I can, making sure I’m not too much slower than everyone else. Today is going to be hell. When someone asks about my busted lip again, I lie about babysitting for my neighbor and a kid accidentally hitting me. I half surprise myself with the ease and quickness at which I lie. I guess it’s like riding a bike.
I start to relax during a few of the warm-up exercises. We’re divided and split up, one group going off to do more drills while the other is sent to bat. Luck loves me so much that I’m put into the batting group.
“Are you going to fill me in on what happened between Saturday and today?” Hector asks.
I shrug. “Why were you at the house this morning anyway?”
He tilts his head. “You sent me a text late last night and said to make sure you woke up in time for practice, so I guess it’s good you were somewhat thinking straight.”
Yeah, because I would’ve slept all day otherwise. I test myself with a loose, easy practice swing and wince. Shit.
“Maybe follow through with a fake sne
eze?” Hector suggests.
He’s trying to be helpful, but it’s annoying me. “Shut up.” I leave him behind to bat a few times with the ball feeder. We’ll alternate between this and a person actually pitching to us.
My grip is so tight on the bat that my knuckles are white. I hiss through my teeth as my wince causes me to swing like a five year old. If I don’t find a way to manage through this, someone is going to start asking questions. That’s the last thing I need. With a slow, controlled breath, I prepare to swing again. The rotation of my torso is just not helping matters. Still, I manage the stupid wince that comes with it a bit better.
It doesn’t take long though before I give up and decide to let Hector have at it for a while. When I turn, I see Sofia standing with the doc, watching me. She looks at him, says something, and when he nods, she waves me over. Ah, shit. I set the bat down with the others before meeting her near the door to the building, where she’s walked.
“Why did you drag me over here?”
“Because you’re hitting like a girl, Foster.” Her hands are on her hips and she’s wearing my scowl, pissed off. “Obviously, there is something wrong and Doc asked me to check you out.”
I decide not to argue with her because I was going to tell her later anyway. “As long as your evaluation doesn’t find much wrong. If not, then no thanks.” I don’t need this shit showing up and affecting my playing.
“Drop the tough guy shit. I’m not in the mood to listen to it.” We walk into her office and she faces me. “Now, take off your shirt and let me check you out. If you talk anymore shit, I’ll make sure my report says you can’t play for a month.” Somehow, I’ve made her angrier.
Without saying a word, I slowly lift my shirt up and over my head. I keep my gaze on her, watching as her eyes widen at the sight of me.
“Oh my God, Blake.” Shock colors her tone. “What happened? Were you in a car accident?”
“No, Jack didn’t get a nomination and Mom called me over to the house. It’s not that bad, Sofia,” I try to reassure her.
“Jack did this?” Her mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Oh my God. Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped you. You might have broken ribs. Let me get Doc.” She turns to leave the room.
“No, Sofia,” I say sternly enough that she turns back around. “You don’t need to get him. They aren’t broken. Just hurt a little bit.”
“A little bit? Blakey, you’ve got bruises all over you. This hurts a lot and I don’t care what you say. Why didn’t you call me?” Realization dawns on her. “Wait, is this why Hector called me?”
I sigh. “He called because he couldn’t get into the house, that’s all. He came over to make sure I woke up in time for practice. I didn’t call because I figured I’d just talk to you at some point today.”
“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Her shoulders fall with the hurt in her voice. “I mean, you tell me things, but when it gets to the point that you really need help, you don’t trust anyone, especially me. You know what,” she throws hands up, “forget it. Put your shirt now and go. I’ll tell Doc that it’s sore muscles from lifting weights.” She pauses before adding, “I thought we were making progress when we talked the other night. I really did, but I can’t keep beating my head against the steel wall that encases you, Blake. I can’t do it.” She shakes her head. “Just...go.”
She has it all wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt her, and she needs to know that we have made progress. “Sofia, hear me out for a second. I do trust you. I was planning on telling you everything later. This,” I point down at the bruises, “is nothing. I’ve had worse. If it was something to be worried about or something I’d need help with, I’d call you before I call Hector. Mom just,” I shake my head, “threw me for a loop, I guess. I just needed a little space first. I trust you. If I didn’t, I would have walked out the moment you told me to take my shirt off.” She has to know that if I didn’t trust her, I wouldn’t have let her see them to start with.
She stares at me while she thinks. Finally, she speaks. “Keep your shirt on. I’ll write it up as strained muscles. Do not lift weights, Blake. You could injure yourself further. You’re RBIs and hit rate will drop a bit for a week or so until you completely heal, but I won’t recommend you to be on IR, okay?”
I nod. “Now that you’ve covered your job response, can I have Sofia’s?”
“I think you have a thick skull with a hard head and a really stubborn attitude. However, you’re tough and you’ll be fine, but I hate that you didn’t call me. You might want your space, but you could have at least sent me a text and said that you were alive and okay.”
“I’ll remember that for future reference then.” Hopefully, there won’t be another incident like this in my future.
“I like you, Blakey, and I want to be there for you. All you have to do is be honest and open with me. If you want space, tell me. I’m a big girl and I prefer honesty over not knowing if you’re okay or not. If you can’t give me that little bit, then we need to rethink this. It’s all I’m asking for.”
“I can give you that, no problem.” I feel like I just got her and I don’t want to lose her. Stepping forward, I rest my hands on the side of her neck and pull her to me. The kiss is soft, sweet, and slow. After one more, I leave her standing there and return to practice.
I SIP THE glass of wine and stare out the kitchen window. My heart actually hurts at the memory of Blake’s bruises. I wish I could sweep in and save him and Caroline, but it’s not what he wants. He wants to do this on his own. I can understand that, but now it’s getting out of hand and he needs help. I don’t know how I can make him see that.
“Are you okay?” Harmony walks in from the side door that’s attached to the garage.
“Yes,” I say cheerfully. “Long day back. How did your day go?”
“Don’t ask.” She takes my wine glass from me and gulps it down.
“That good, huh?” I grab another glass from the cupboard.
She rolls her eyes and fills both of our glasses up. “Dad wants to invest in this computer company and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Oh?” I tilt my head at her. “Is it a bad company?”
“I have no clue.” She shakes her head.
“Then why tell him not to invest?”
“I was upset that the doctor hadn’t called me back, and I wanted to argue with someone.”
“And you decided Dad is a good target to do that with?” I laugh at her.
“It’s not my wisest or brightest idea.” Harmony sighs.
“Tell me about the doctor. I thought you didn’t care.” We both take a seat at the breakfast bar.
“I don’t really, but I thought the date went great. You know, even though it had been a bought for.” Harmony twists the glass in between her hands.
“You know him, right? Call him.”
“I know of him and I don’t know him well enough to call out of the blue. I need a reason of some sort.”
I blink in confusion. “When do you ever need a reason to call a guy? You’re not the type to shy away from a challenge.”
“I…” she is interrupted by the doorbell and quickly rushes to the front of the house.
This has to be the craziest day of my life. Blake and Harmony are acting as if a full moon is out. Now, all I need is…
“Mom.” I smile brightly as she comes into the kitchen.
“Look at these.” She’s glowing as she has the prints of our family photos.
For the next hour, we look through the pictures, finding ones we love and those we’ll never let anyone see. The three of us laugh and joke to the point where there are tears in our eyes. It’s exactly what we needed...our mom.
“Come on, girls. Let’s go have dinner with your father.” We all nod and Mom drives us to the steakhouse.
When we reach him, he stands and hugs each of us. He looks tired, but his eyes are bright when he sees us all sitting around the table. Dad tells us about his day and Harm
ony remains quiet when he discusses the computer company. I know she couldn't care less about that.
The dinner is simple, relaxing, and exactly what I need right now. Blake doesn’t even cross my mind during the meal. When Mom drops us off at home, I head up to my bathroom and take a long hot bath.
When I’m finished, I slip into a white t-shirt and a pair boy shorts. I check on Harmony, but she’s deep in paperwork spread out around the dining room table. It reminds me of Dad. He’s constantly working and I think Harmony is heading down the same path. I grab a bottle of water, tell her goodnight, and head back upstairs. I flip on Netflix to see if there’s anything on, but I end up at Gossip Girl as I always do.
I pick up my phone and flip through my texts and it’s Blake’s thread that I read through. I take a stab and text him.
Me: What are you doing?
He quickly responds.
Blake: Resting. You?
Me: Watching Chuck Bass.
Blake: Who?
Me: You’re kidding, right? Chuck Bass. Gossip Girl. Don’t you watch TV?
Blake: I think I’d lose my MAN card if I told anyone I’ve seen Gossip Girl.
I laugh thinking of him sitting around listening to the constant whining and evil plots of Gossip Girl.
Me: I’ve seen your MAN card. It’s pretty attached.
I bite down on my lip, holding back my smile. I think about our night together before I left for the beach and the familiar ache for him returns.
Blake: Want to see it again?
Me: Yes. Right now would be nice. However, I have no makeup on and I’m in my pajamas.
I rub my thighs together hoping the friction dulls the desire I’m feeling.
Blake: Give me your address.
Me: You’re supposed to be resting.
Blake: Give me your address.
Blake (Season One: The Ninth Inning #2) Page 13