Page 24 of Saving The Shortstop

“If you come back here again, I promise that you won’t like what happens,” she hisses. “Go!” she growls in a tone I didn’t even know Isla had in her. “Now.”

I walk into the house, but before the door is closed, I hear him yell one more thing.

“You wouldn’t act this way if it wasn’t for fucking Rivers!” he roars. “You’re fucking him now, aren’t you?”

If my dad could see how he’s acting or hear the things coming out of his mouth, he’d never play him again. But I have heard my dad say with his own voice that Tabor is one of the best defensive linemen he’s ever coached and that they need him. If I tell my dad about any of this, I’ll mess up his season.

He can’t know, and neither can my brother or Dallas.

Isla stands in the doorway, as if her tiny self is going to protect all of us from him if he decides to try to come in.

“Okay then, I’m calling the cops!” she says, and even from behind, I can see her reaching into her pocket. He must leave though, because before she presses the screen or brings it to her ear, she watches for a moment before backing inside the house and closing the door.

She turns the lock and then turns to face us—eyes wide.

“Haven …” she whispers, clearly shaken. “You need to tell someone what just happened.” She swallows, eyes wide. “Something with him … it’s not right.”

“Isla’s right,” Gigi whispers, standing beside the window and looking from me to back outside. “He could come back, you know.”

Harley hugs me from behind, pulling my back close to her chest and giving me a squeeze. “Are you okay, Have?” she whispers, and even though I’m not, I nod.

Inhaling sharply, I let the breath out in a sigh. “I’m fine,” I say, swinging my gaze to all of them just as Lilly comes into the room. I don’t have the energy to explain what happened. Besides, she’s only been living with us for a few weeks. The last thing I want is to scare the poor girl away when I’m sure everything is getting blown out of proportion.

He won’t come back. Why would he?

“I’m going to my room; I have some homework to do,” I say evenly. “Please, let’s not make this a bigger deal than it is. He’s one of my dad’s best players. I’m not going to ruin my dad’s chances of a perfect season.” I swing my gaze to the three of them, thankful that Lilly has her headphones on anyway and seems clueless as she grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “And neither are any of you.”

With that, I walk to my room on shaky legs, trying to seem like everything is fine. And when I walk inside and close the door behind me, I put my hand on my chest.

Because I have never been so scared in my whole life as I was when he wouldn’t let go of my hand.

The last thing I want to do is be overly dramatic when it comes to one of my father’s players. I know I have to keep this a secret.

Even if it kills me keeping it to myself.

ELEVEN

DALLAS

The night before a game is always spent the same way for Coach King’s team. We’re required to all eat dinner together, no matter what and no excuses.

It’s been a few days since my last tutoring session with Haven, which ended with me overstepping and her practically jumping out of my truck and going home. But tonight, after I finish this football dinner at The Lookout, I’m headed to her place for another session. I asked her if she wanted to meet yesterday, but she said she was busy.

Busy I think meant … leave me the fuck alone. Lucky for me, I was given a new assignment today, and when I sent her a picture of it, she must have felt bad enough to agree to meet up.

I keep telling myself it’s strictly about getting my grades up, but the truth is, I enjoy being around her. Growing up, it was hardly ever just the two of us. I kind of like it this way, even though I’m not ever going to admit that out loud.

“All right, motherfuckers!” one of my teammates, Reed, calls out, cupping his hands over his mouth to get everyone’s attention. “It’s time for us to take our picture for Coach. So stand the fuck together so we can get this shit done.”

Coach King doesn’t just make us get together—he makes us prove that we were together too. He’s big on team bonding, wanting us all to be a unit. Which, for the most part, we are.

But Tabor is a fucking creep, and to be honest, I wish he wasn’t on my team.

We all bunch together, and Reed holds his phone out in front of him.

“All right, smile, assholes!” he calls out, snapping the picture before looking at it. “That’ll do,” he says proudly. “Sent.”

As we all part ways, I find myself toe to toe with none other than Tabor himself. I start to brush past him, but he moves the same way I do.