“Already ball and chaining you, huh?” Jack taunts.
“He was?—”
Before I can defend myself to Miller or fill himin, Jack spouts off again.
“Seen her with you too. Tell me, she fucking you both?”
“The fuck you just say?” Miller spins on Jack, shoving him back with both hands.
“Say one more fucking thing about her and I’ll end you.” I look over at the Arizona dugout and players are paying attention. This is about to get ugly.
But Jack refuses to stop. He steps chest to chest with Miller. “Do you take turns with her?”
Miller’s the happiest guy I know, but right now his face is bright red, his chest heaves, and his hands are balled into fists at his side. I’ve never seen him look so angry.
“Or is she one of those sluts that let you share and stretch her out at the same time?” Miller turns murderous and everything else seems to happen all at once. I surge forward to try to get to Jack. Miller shoves me back with one arm. Then he pulls back his right arm to throw a punch, landing a right hook to Jack’s jaw, and he crumbles to the ground.
Chaos ensues after that. The pitcher runs up behind me. Both dugouts clear and everyone converges around home plate in an all-out brawl. I duck repeated jabs to my face. Slurs are tossed around between teams. The umpires and coaches try to break up the fight but it’s impossible to tell who is speaking and throwing punches and who is pushing and shoving for the sake of the fight.
I manage to defend myself against the onslaught without landing a punch before someone pushes me to the edge of the crowd. Looking over, I see Fields dragging Miller to the fence behind home plate. Miller’s lip is bloody, clearly having taken a punch from someone else after landing a few himself.
“The hell is wrong with the two of you?” Coach Crenshaw spits in our faces. If looks could kill, he’d incinerate both of us on the spot. Shoulder to shoulder, Miller and I stand with our backs against the wall while Coach yells at us, neither of us commenting or defending ourselves. What’s done is done and Coach doesn’t want to hear our excuses for causing a fight on thefield. Not that we caused it, but it won’t make a difference because we reacted. We let Jack get under our skin and Miller threw the first punch. We’re fucked for all intents and purposes.
Slowly, the haze starts to clear as I watch coaches and staff separate the teams. Everyone is out of breath, but several players are smiling. It might be frowned upon, but there’s nothing like a bench clearing battle after the opposing team has been talking shit all series. Trainers are attending to Jack who has come to and is sitting up on home plate.
“Let’s go, you’re both out.” Coach shoves me towards the dugout.
“Sorry, Coach.” I mean it, I truly do, but my only regret is that I wasn’t the one to punch Jack in his smug face.
“Fucker deserved it.” Miller spits in the dirt at our feet and swipes at the blood on his lip as he starts to walk past me and towards the dugout.
“I was getting there before you butted in,” I say to Miller.
“You can’t afford more trouble, Rook.” He slaps my back and keeps walking. When we get back to the locker room, I make a beeline for the showers. I need to calm down before talking to Bree. The worry on her face killed me. Please let that be worry for me as her boyfriend and not worry for any of the other million reasons we’ve finally moved past on why we can’t be together. She’s been more reserved since the game Tuesday night. A pit forms in my stomach at what this could mean for us.
Watching Chase and Miller in the middle of a bench-clearing brawl has me on the edge of my seat. For the first time, I don’t know who I’m more concerned about—Chase or Miller. Miller for obvious reasons, and Chase because we’re together, but also because he’s still working through the requirements of his plea deal. He cannot get into trouble. He certainly can’t survive another league suspension. More than anything, I wish I could run to him and make sure he’s okay. Instead, I settle for sending him a text when he’s ejected from the game.
ME
Are you okay?
Chase doesn’t answer immediately, so I text Miller instead. They walked into the clubhouse together a few minutes ago. The game resumed and I can tell tensions are at an all-time high after Chase, Miller, and the pitcher and catcher for Arizona were all ejected.
ME
Are you okay? What were you thinking?!
It’s so unlike Miller to get mad. For him to be furious enough to start a fight in the middle of a game is unconscionable.
MILLER
We’re fine Gabrielle.
ME
What the hell happened?
MILLER
