Page 28 of Praising the Pitcher

“Do you want to go with him?” she asks softly when the pounding begins again, followed by him yelling my name.

Shaking my head, I take my phone from my pocket and blow out a breath.

“No,” I whisper. “I’m going to call a friend.”

NOAH

When I pull into the parking lot at the diner, I immediately see the Cadillac running in front of the building, and I know it’s Gigi’s dad. I know he’s the owner of BOOMA Shoes, so I’m not surprised he has a fancy car. Gigi drives a Range Rover, for fuck’s sake. My dad may be a retired NFL player, but you’d never know because he’s had the same truck for years.

Putting my truck in park, I open the door and climb out, immediately hearing his door open. When Gigi called me, she tried to sound calm, but I could tell she was freaking out. Apparently, she’s been inside this diner for a while, waiting for him to drive away because they got in an argument or something and now won’t leave.

By the time I get around to the front of my truck, he’s standing in my path to get to the door.

“Noah King, son of the infamous Mason King,” he says, his eyes holding my gaze. “Don’t tell me my daughter called you to come save her.”

I know I need to be careful with what I say. At the end of the day, this is her dad, and even though he’s clearly being a controlling dick, I can’t just punch him in the face and be on my merry way.

Even though that sounds nice …

“She called, yes. So yep, I’m going to take her home,” I say, taking another step closer so he knows I’m not intimidated by him. I’ve been around some real assholes in my life, so if he thinks I’m going to back down and leave without his daughter, he’s wrong.

He looks me up and down, sizing me up no doubt. An arrogant, cold smirk tugs at his lips. “So you’re the reason my daughter is throwing her life down the shitter.” He shakes his head, tsking me. “With Mason as your father, I’d assume you’d be smarter than this.”

I throw my head back, fighting a chuckle because I don’t want to laugh directly in his face. Although right now, that’s sort of what he needs.

“Throwing her life down the shitter?” I say, looking at him like … Are you fucking serious? “Since when is being early to practice, strength training regularly, going to class and then to pitching lessons throwing her life down the shitter?” I scoff, slightly amused by just how far out of touch this dude is. “If you think that about her, I’d hate to think what you’d say about ninety percent of the athletic population here at NEU—hell, everywhere, actually.”

“Gigi isn’t like the other ninety percent of the population,” he says sharply. “At least, she wasn’t until as of late.” His eyes narrow. “I knew your sister was going to be trouble because, let’s face it, that kid’s got talent, but she’s too worried about fitting in and having a good time to be the shortstop she needs to be. Though it probably helps that her daddy works here on campus, giving her that prime spot on the field.”

My fists ball at my sides. My sister may enjoy having a good time, but she’s a fucking animal on the field. Her last name could be ripped from her and colleges would still flock to have her on their roster. She’s that good. But before I have time to tell him to fuck off, movement from behind him catches my eye.

“That’s enough, Dad,” Gigi says angrily. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Haven is a phenomenal player. She puts my fielding to shame.”

Whirling around, he stares at her, and I waste no time rushing closer in case he decides to do anything stupid.

“Now you come out,” he growls. “Did you have a nice visit with your future self?” He points to his SUV. “Come on, we’re going home.”

I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but when the diner’s manager, Sasha, walks behind where Gigi stands, nothing but rage in her eyes when she looks at Cal, I’m sure it has to do with her. Sasha was a pitcher for NEU years ago, so I’m sure that’s why he’s making a jab about Gigi’s “future self.”

I’ve been coming to this diner since my dad got the job at NEU, so I’ve gotten to know Sasha fairly well. Well enough to know she’s in the process of buying the diner from its current owners.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Dad,” Gigi finally says, shaking her head quickly.

She stares at her dad silently, though the look in her eye says a thousand words. Disgust. Disappointment. Shame. So many emotions cross her face when she stares at the man who is supposed to be her biggest supporter. I knew he was bad, but this is worse than I thought.

He smiles bitterly, looking at his daughter, who is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.

“Let me rephrase that. You can come with me, or you can kiss your tuition, living expenses, pitching lessons, any and all training goodbye.” He shrugs, challenging her. “Your choice.”

I don’t know what I expect her to do here because this is a fucking impossible situation. This is her dad—her fucking father. And the motherfucker is threatening to take everything away from her for literally doing nothing wrong. It’s screwed up, and it makes me understand even more why she is the way she is when it comes to not feeling worthy, being skittish and needing always to be perfect.

And I hate that this asshole did that to her.

“Take it all,” she says, a few tears streaming down her beautiful cheeks. “I don’t want any of it anymore if it ties me to you.” Her sad, tear-filled eyes flash to mine. “Let’s go.”

Instantly, I nod, but when I take a step toward her, her father’s arm lifts, and his hand grabs my shirt.

“Do you have any idea how powerful a man I am in this county?” His words aren’t loud but eerily cold. “I can ruin you, King.”