Swing For The Fences (Bad Boys Redemption Book 2)

by Kimberly Readnour

  “No use wasting good alcohol.” He slams the glass down. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you back to your kingdom.”

  “As soon as you hand over the keys.”

  “I’m not drunk, but to ease your mind, here ya go.” He tosses me the keys to the rental, and I catch them midair. “I hope you know, I could’ve scored with a beautiful brunette.”

  “I’m surprised you’re not bringing her back.”

  “Eh, not feeling it tonight. My bones feel it today. Kicking back and binge-watching Godless.”

  I laugh. No one would picture this wild guy as a lover of westerns, but his ass has made me suffer through Deadwood. All thirty-six episodes. “You’re going to kick back and pass out.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  Ten minutes later we pull into the parking lot, and I look over at AJ, who’s slumped over in the seat. Not drunk, my ass.

  “You okay, there buddy?”

  “Mmm-yeah,” he slurs.

  Great. I shake my head and round the truck. When I open the door, he falls onto me, my shoulders bearing the brunt of his upper body weight. How the hell is he this shit-faced? He was fine when we left. All he had after going to the bathroom was two shots and a glass of whatever psycho lady had. Uneasiness clings to my stomach like my shirt during this Florida heatwave. Surely, there wasn’t anything in that drink.

  Somehow managing him out of the truck and over to the stairwell, I pause and glance at the staircase leading to our rental. “Twenty steps to go, buddy. Help me out here.” I nudge him forward, and he lifts a foot onto the step.

  “You’re a good friend.” AJ brings up his free hand and pats my chest, his words barely audible.

  “I know. Grab the handrail there and help a friend out.” Please. He stumbles and almost drags me down with him, but we climb the stairs, one excruciatingly slow step at a time.

  “I serious…you deserve happiness.”

  “Thanks, buddy. Let’s concentrate on the stairs. Only three more to go.”

  “I almost had…once. Blew it.”

  “You had what? One more, there you go. Stay put.” I find the key while he slumps over me like a rag doll. He teeters, and I grab hold of his back to keep him upright. Shit, I’m glad I insisted on driving.

  “Almost. Once. Good guuuurlll.” He stumbles through the door and falls forward.

  “Fuck!” I catch him before he face-plants on the ceramic tile and heave him back into a half-standing position. “Couch, now.”

  He follows my demand, and when he reaches the sofa, he pats me on the chest again.

  “Cupcake…good…too good.”

  “You want a cupcake? Hardly the time to be eating right now, buddy. Here, lie down.”

  “Nope, never got taste.” He snorts and then passes out. I prop him up and on his side in fear of him vomiting. Call me crazy, but I’d rather not be responsible for choking our star catcher.

  When he looks stable, I pull out my phone and Facetime Jocelyn. She’s no doubt wondering where the hell I am.

  “There you… What’s wrong?” Her warm greeting cuts short the moment she sees my face.

  “It’s AJ. He’s passed out cold on the couch. It was a struggle to get him up here.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I think so. It’s weird though. He had a few shots, then downed a drink before we left. He acted fine, but by the time we got home, he’s all shit-faced, making no sense at all.”

  “Is he breathing normally?”

  “Yeah, he seems to be doing okay.” I plant my ass down in the recliner next to him. It looks as if a long night is ahead of me. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I expected our night to go.”

  “That’s okay, but—” A line etches between her brows. “Are you sure he’s fine? Something doesn’t feel right.”

  I lean over and shake his shoulder. “You okay, man?”

  A mixture of jumbled words greets me before he sinks back to oblivion.

  “I’ve seen AJ drunk, but he’s never been this trashed. And it’s weird because he never drank that much. Just a couple beers before the party fest at the end.”

  “And you were with him the whole time?”

  “Other than when he had two shots with a brunette.”

  “It’s just, I don’t know. You think he was roofied?”

  “The thought came to mind.” Along with the mixed drink from the nameless blonde. If she did this, then I need to figure out her reasoning.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” My best poker face slides in place to keep her from worrying. The last thing I want to do is alarm her, but I need to make sure she and the kids stay safe. “But promise me you’ll be aware of your surroundings.”

  “I am a mother, ya know. Being aware is automatically programmed.”

  “Still, be extra careful. There are some strange people out there. And stay away from that blonde if you see her. Or any crazy women, for that matter.” To lighten the mood, I plaster my best cocky smile on and add, “I am a star, you know. One of the hottest, or so rumor has it.”

  I laugh when she rolls her eyes. Another garbled sound comes from Sleeping Beauty and draws my attention. When I look back at my phone, those beautiful chestnut eyes hold worry.

  “He doesn’t need a hospital, does he?”

  “He’s breathing fine. I think he just drank too much toward the end. Besides, he’d kill me if I took him. He’s two seasons away from being a free agent. The last thing he needs is to give them ammunition to trade him.” Rumors are starting to circulate.

  “I guess as long as he’s stable.”

  “So far he is. I’m a little disappointed though. I had plans for us tonight, Ms. Kennedy.” Thank fuck she took back her maiden name. Ms. Burger falling from my lips makes me cringe.

  “What did these plans consist of, Mr. Carrigan?”

  “Something about a live video, nakedness, and a hell of an imagination.”

  We head back to Philadelphia in three weeks, but we don’t play in New York for another week after that. Four more weeks before I can physically see her, hold her.

  “Rain check, lover boy.”

  Hmm, is she joking? I wasn’t sure she’d be game or not. AJ stirs on the couch, and I let out a groan. “It’s going to be a long night.”

  “I’ll let you go so you can attend to him, but one last thing.” The picture blurs momentarily and then sharpens to a perfect set of tits.

  Holy shit.

  Before I can say anything, the screen darkens. I adjust myself to relieve the pressure and glance at AJ. He lets out a groan right as a wetness pools in his crotch.

  “Jesus, buddy.” Something’s just wrong. He’s never pissed himself before. My size thirteens pace the floor as I wait for Zach to answer.

  “Yo.”

  “How much did AJ drink tonight?”

  “I don’t know, not much. Why?”

  “Because he’s passed out on the couch, and he just pissed himself.”

  “What the fuck? How late did you two stay, after I left?”

  “Not long. He had two shots with some girls, then downed my rum and coke.” Or whatever the drink was.

  “That shouldn’t have made him that drunk. Do you need me to come over?”

  I run a hand through my hair as I stand next to him. “Can you? We can take turns sleeping, but I’m seriously contemplating taking him to the hospital.”

  “He’d fucking kill you.”

  “Better than him being dead. What if his drink was spiked?”

  “Who the fuck would spike his drink?”

  “He may not have been the intended target.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Remember the blonde that approached me at Arti’s?”

  “Mmm, not really.”

  “It was the night after losing the MVP award…never mind, the point is, she’s here.”

  “At the apartment?” I pull the phone away at his pitched voice.

  “No, dumbass,
in Florida. She was at the bar tonight and brought me the drink after you left. What if she spiked it?”

  “Rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “I’m serious. Something isn’t right.”

  “We can’t take him to the hospital. If they run a tox screen and find something, it’d ruin him.”

  “Just get your ass here.”

  “I’m starting the car now.”

  When the engine revs to life, we hang up. In the past two years of living together, AJ’s never done drugs that I’m aware of. I don’t think he’d take anything. Maybe those shots were double strength? Who knows? I shake my head. The chick’s a little forward, but she doesn’t seem psychotic. I called her that but didn’t actually mean it. I look at my friend lying there like a Goddamn baby, piss and all. Something strange happened tonight.

  “What the hell happened?” AJ’s low voice breaks through the morning haze. Zach stirs awake in the recliner as AJ swings his legs around and plants his feet on the floor. “What are you doing here, Pritchett?”

  “Making sure your intoxicated ass doesn’t die.”

  “What the hell is that smell?” AJ scrunches his nose and sniffs.

  “You.” I hand him a glass of water and two Tylenols. “You had a rough night last night.”

  “Thanks, but why do I feel like death?”

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” Zach leans his elbows on his knees awaiting the answer.

  AJ shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. “We left the bar and everything is blank after that.”

  I clear my throat, hating to ask but needing the answer. “Did you take any drugs?”

  “The fuck—”

  “I only ask because”—I look toward Zach and he nods, an understanding passing between us—“we think you may have been roofied.”

  AJ pulls his head back in surprise and then grimaces. “Why? Why would someone do that to me?”

  “You may not have been the intended target, but we don’t know for sure, but did you want to go to the hospital? To, you know”—I shrug—“be tested?”

  “No! God, no. That’s the last thing I want.”

  The sudden relief working through my bones alerts me to the guilt I’ve been carrying all night. “I understand, which is why we didn’t take you, but maybe the police—”

  “No. Any publicity, good or bad, is the last thing I want. Not right now.”

  “Okay, but they may have a surveillance video—”

  “No. I’m fine.” He lifts off the couch. “I’m going to get a shower.”

  When his feet carry him across the tile, I look back at Zach. “What should we do?”

  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” He tugs on his shoes. “It’s up to AJ if he wants to pursue this. I’m heading back to the apartment. Need help, let me know.”

  Proving it was her may be impossible, but I’ll pay better attention to her actions now. In three weeks, we’ll be back in Philadelphia, and then the following week in New York to play the Mets where I’ll be able to hold my woman. Until then, I’ll do nothing but eat, sleep, and breathe baseball. No going out to Florida bars and no more potential poisonings. Zach may not believe the blonde mystery woman did it, but I’m not willing to take the risk. I can be a saint for the rest of spring training.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  JAX

  Current Day

  The stale air of the hotel room brings a sense of relief. I’d claim the slick, sterile decor or the overall start to the baseball season as the reason behind my contentment, but that would be a lie. A huge one. The truth is the knowledge of seeing the five-foot-six brunette—who happens to reside in this city.

  We’re finally together. Almost.

  Our reunion can’t happen until after tonight’s game, but it’s soon. And I’m revved. My body hums with desire at the mere thought of being with her. Seven weeks is too long to go without seeing her. Without having her body pressed against mine. Without having her luscious, plump lips—the ones tantalizing me on screen every evening—on mine. Damn, I’m getting hard thinking about it.

  I drop the luggage beside the bed and dial her number as I fall onto the mattress. Her greeting has me smiling like a giddy schoolboy after his first kiss.

  “Whatever you planned on wearing tonight, scrap it. I want you naked.”

  She laughs. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Scratch that, I don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine. You can wear a jersey and pants, but nothing underneath. I want easy access.”

  “Ooh, as good as that sounds, I have some bad news.”

  My gut sinks at the fluctuation in her voice. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Carl had to leave town for business—some mandatory training. I don’t have a sitter.”

  I grip the phone and close my eyes. “That sucks.” I try to hide the disappointment, but fuck, I was looking forward to tonight.

  “Big time. I’m so sorry, Jax.”

  “Don’t be sorry. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Yeah.” She drags the word out. Her dejected tone makes me scramble for a solution.

  “It’s probably too late to bring the kids tonight, right?” I already know the answer before I ask. But if there’s a chance, I’ll take it. Jocelyn isn’t the only one I miss.

  “That’s tempting. Real tempting, but with school tomorrow…”

  “Think you can find a sitter for tomorrow night?”

  “I can try, but he won’t be back until this weekend. It was a stretch having him take them in the first place.”

  “I was surprised when you told me he would.” I don’t want to sound like an asshole, but he never goes out of his way when it comes to parenting. And after he threatened custody if any of my whores—insert double eye rolls—bother the kids, I can’t imagine him volunteering to watch them so we can get together. When she first told me, I wondered what his alternative motive was. The fucker probably agreed, knowing damn well he had a job training scheduled.

  “Me too, but after our argument, he’s been better.”

  I still don’t like him, but I can’t tell her that. He’s the father of those kids, so I’ll have to deal.

  “In case something changes, I’ll add your name to my room at the front desk and tell them to give you a key. Also, you’ll have access to valet.”

  “Thanks. I’ll work on finding a sitter for tomorrow.”

  “You’re working during the day, I take it?”

  “Supposed to.”

  I blow out a steady stream of air. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “You know I miss you, right?”

  “I fucking miss you so much. You have no idea.”

  “Oh, I think I do. We’ll see each other tomorrow, even if I have to pull the kids out of school.”

  “I can get us a suite.” I like this idea more and more.

  “Sounds great.”

  “I have to get to the field in an hour, but I’ll call you after.”

  When we hang the phone up, I place my arms behind my head and stare at the ceiling. I hate Carl. The bastard did this on purpose, I know he did. But besides the threat of my balls turning blue and falling off, I just want to be with her. And the kids.

  I confirm everything with the front desk when a loud bang at the door draws my attention. “Hold up, I’m coming.” Expecting either Zach or AJ, I double blink at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face of Cara—my roommate’s sister. It takes a millisecond before she barrels past me, toting an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. What the hell?

  “Shut your door before AJ sees me.” Her voice quivers.

  An uneasy feeling washes over me, but I do as I’m told. Running a hand along my jaw, I stare as she paces the room. She’s swearing under her breath, but tears begin to fall.

  “Are you okay?” My feet stay planted.

  “Yeah. I mean, I will be.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

&nb
sp; “Drake.” Her arms swing around dramatically as she plops onto the bed.

  My stomach plummets. AJ will kill the rookie if he suspects Drake harmed her. It doesn’t matter that Cara’s in college and well capable of making her own decisions. He’s a bit overprotective. But damn, Drake of all people? She’s way too smart to be with that asshole.

  “He didn’t lay his hands on you, did he?” I’d fucking kill him myself if that’s the case.

  “No. But he didn’t have any problems putting his hands on someone else.”

  Shit. We’re supposed to be on the field in forty-five minutes. Can’t he keep his dick inside his pants until after the game?

  “I’m sorry you found out like this. How’d you even get here, anyway?” Unless she stowed away in the cargo department, she didn’t ride the team bus.

  “Chartered bus. I was supposed to meet Drake in his hotel room. Apparently, I’m too early because he’s not alone.” She flashes hurtful eyes to me. “My return ticket isn’t until Wednesday. Jax, I can’t let my brother find out about this. You know the type of fit he’ll throw.”

  I scratch my chin and sigh. “If AJ finds out I let you stay in my room, he’ll be over the top. Promise me you’ll stay hidden and away from Drake.”

  “I promise. This was the last time hooking up with him, I swear.”

  It won’t be. If I learned anything in the past two years about this girl, it’s her love for drama. I look over at the double-sized bed.

  “Let me call Zach and see if he has another bed for me to crash in.” If he doesn’t, I’ll have to share one with him, and it will be a long-ass night. I’ve slept in the same bed with Zach before. They guy’s a fucking cuddler.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  JOCELYN

  Current Day

  Melanie snuggles with her blanket, her eyelids heavy as she settles for the night. I lean over and give her a kiss, whispering a faint goodnight. The twins, bathed and in their pajamas, await their bedtime in the front room. I try to tamp down the excitement coursing through my veins but fail epically when I catch sight of them sitting on Ms. Neely’s lap. This is really happening. After seven long weeks, I’m getting to see him. Touch him. Hold him. Funny how I went over a year without a man’s touch, and now this distance away from Jax feels like a lifetime.