Page 98 of Hard to Lose

“It’s not what you think. This is all a mistake. A white lie that tumbled out of control before I could fix it, and by then it was too late. By then I was falling for you and knew deception was something that was a deal-breaker for you—”

“You’re goddamn right it is. Have you not listened to me? About the deceit that cost me the life I had? The dreams I once had?” He shoves up off the bed and paces back and forth in the small space, the orange envelope gripped in his hand. “I thought you were . . . everything I thought about you . . . you’re not you.” His voice is barely audible. The disbelief edged with hurt in it is like a knife to my heart.

“I am me. I promise. I just got—”

“You warned me. Fucking told me I wouldn’t like the real you and I . . . I argued with you about it. Fought you on it and”—his eyes are defeated but sparked with anger as he shakes his head—“you were right.”

“No. Don’t say that. I am me. I am the same person. I just—”

“What about the boys?” he asks, switching gears as if he can’t focus on one thing at a time. My surefooted Gunner is anything but that right now. “You made promises to little kids. And for what? To win me over. To use them to get to me—”

“Those promises are real,” I shout with an exasperated desperation. “You have to believe me. The boys have nothing to do with this. I never would—”

“Believe you?” He laughs, arms out to the side, looking at me like I’m crazy.

“Gunner, you have to believe me—”

“You played me.” He pounds his fist on the desk beside him and then storms past me out of the close confines of the room. I scurry behind him, desperate in a way I’ve never been before. “And for what?”

“I thought . . . I thought I’d find you and maybe, I don’t know. Get you an audience in front of a major league scout.” He snorts, and I hold up my hands in front of me. “I know now you don’t play anymore, but I thought it would be cool to realize your dream. To tell your grandkids someday that you did it.”

“All this off a letter, huh?” The muscle in his jaw pulses as his eyes bore into me.

“I just . . . I thought we could make a whole thing of it. KSM would host a veterans’ game type of thing. Raise some money for a good cause—”

“What cause would that be?” he snaps.

“I don’t know. The Center? Wounded Warrior . . . you tell me.”

“You didn’t know The Center existed until you got out here. Until you met me. Until you pretended to be someone you weren’t.” His voice escalates in pitch with each and every word. “So what’s the real story, Chase? What is it exactly that you wanted from me because from my experience, agents only want you if it’s good for them. Screw your talent so long as you can make them money or give them notoriety or—oh my God.” His face falls as he stares at me with wide eyes full of disbelief. “You saw me as a publicity stunt, didn’t you? That has to be it. You saw the attention that one agent got a few months back and figured you’d get yourself some of that attention too. You thought you’d get me an audience with an MLB scout or hold a charity game, all while having KSM strategically placed everywhere so the world would know who was doing all of these selfless, good deeds.” Sarcasm drips off his last words as I swallow over the lump in my throat.

“That’s a lot of supposition.” My voice cracks, and for some reason the sound feels like it’s an admission. “I wasn’t—”

“Anything to make a profit, right? I can see it now. The great benevolent agent goes searching for a wounded vet whose letter was lost in the mail. She’d swoop in, put him on display. A dog and pony show of sorts so you could claim you were doing good, but it would only benefit yourself.” There are tears in his eyes when he looks at me. He blinks them away but the sight of them will be forever burned in my memory. Betrayal and hurt. Disbelief and disappointment. “You were going to use me.”

Each word cuts.

Not just because they hurt him, but because they are true.

Because I was that callous, that selfish. I was so fixated on a goddamn goal that I never once stopped to consider how the faceless Ryan Camden I’d yet to meet would feel about it.

How Gunner would feel about it.

“That’s not fair.”

“You don’t sound so sure of yourself.” His eyes narrow as he stares at me. “I thought Big City Chase always sounded sure of herself.”

“That was never my intention.”

“The dog and pony show part or the you lying about who you were part?” he yells.

“I was warned that military protected their own. That if I asked about you, people would close ranks and—”

“Warned, huh? Because we’re such a crazy group of people.”

“No, because my questions would be frowned upon since I was an outsider.”

“So you thought it would be better to lie?”