I throw my arms around him. “Go. She’ll want you.”
“Actually, she sent me to get Avery.” I watch her eyes saucer and hear her intake of breath.
“She wants me?” Caden squeezes her shoulder and pushes her to Brody.
“Yep.” He turns to her mom. “She can have two people in there.”
Natalie waves him off. “Those two were in diapers together. It’s fitting they welcome Emberlee’s daughter into the world.” She swipes her eyes and I know it isn’t in anger or disappointment. “Besides, I get to hold her the most. I’m the Grammy.”
Brody and Avery disappear down the hallway through the doors. “Have you heard from Mason?” I ask Caden.
“Yeah. He’s waiting for the results. We were waiting for you. Deacon and I are headed up.”
“Want me to go?”
“He asked you stay here. He doesn’t want us there but we kinda insisted.” Funny, a few weeks ago he was assuring me I wasn’t an outsider — yet, here he is making me feel that way.
“I get it,” I lie.
“Hey— don’t worry. He’s tough.” Yes, he is. But he’s based his entire existence based on being able to round bases and striking people out.
“I know. Go. I’m good.” His eyes don’t hold the answers I’m seeking so I turn and join Saylor and Emberlee’s parents in the chairs.
“You okay?” Saylor asks.
“Yeah. Excited.” I plaster a smile across my face . . . one I don’t mean.
“You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. He’s being stubborn but be patient.” Her eyes fill with tears.
“I know. He loves you.”
She grins. “I know. He loves you, too. But thank god it isn’t the same way. That’d be awkward.” I call my mom because she’s blowing up my messages and let her know I don’t have any additional information other than what Brody called and told her.
She’s planning to fly here in two weeks and of course I won’t be here. I grab Saylor’s hand. “You ready for yours?”
“Yes. Should be anytime. Lee Lee’s a week early but she did get knocked up on my wedding night.”
Gerald clears his throat while he narrows his gaze at Saylor. “Hush. Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.” She admonishes him, which causes a chuckle from his mouth. That man scares the beejezus out of me but she’s treating him like a toddler.
The guys walk in and Mason is somber. His eyes are red rimmed and shoulders slumped. I hurry to him while Saylor heads to Deacon and Caden joins them.
“You okay?” I’m skittish because this isn’t my Mason.
“No. Let’s just concentrate on Lee Lee and Brody and let me process.” I want to give him that but it’s too big.
“Ace . . .”
“Don’t call me that. Not anymore.”
My heart splits wide open.
His desolation becomes my anguish.
His dreams up in smoke and I can’t smolder the burn.
I swallow and take his hand. He flinches but doesn’t pull from my grip. I pull him to the chairs and wisely everyone gives him wide berth. I want to wrap him up and take it all— I don’t know the extent of his injury but from his somber mood I know it’s bad.
Brody comes through the doors with a smile splitting his face. “Mom and daughter are great. Seven pounds exactly. Twenty-two inches long. Darby Ellington Collier.”
Natalie shrieks. Gerald wipes his eyes and can’t hide the smile. I run to my brother and cry in his arms. Lots of congratulations and back slaps.
Saylor wails. “She gives birth in five hours with her first kid. It isn’t fair.” I try not to laugh but lord have mercy.
“Ellington?” I question him.
“After dad.” Ellis was my dad’s name and I can’t stop the shudder and sobs.
“I’m sure he’d be proud.”
“He would. Of both of us.” His head nods to Mason. “He good?”
“No. But don’t worry. I’ll be by the room in a bit.”
“Love you, Breck.”
“You, too, Brody.” He disappears back to Emberlee.
“You okay?” Natalie hugs me.
“Yeah. A bit overloaded with everything.”
“I overheard the middle name. I think it’s beautiful.”
“I agree.”
“Darby is my maiden name. Those kids . . .”
“They’re kinda great, aren’t they?”
“The best. You better go call your mom. I’m sure she’s chomping at the bit.”
“I’ll do that.” I roll my eyes and she swats my arm.
“Be nice.” I giggle and make my way to the forlorn body in the corner.
“You hear?”
“Yeah. I’m happy for them.”
I want to snap at him to stop lying but I remind myself . . . neither of these situations is about me. “You wanna come outside with me and call my mom? After I’m going to see the baby.”
“No. I’m gonna head home. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
Wow. “Mason, did I do something?”
“No. I’m lousy company.”
I watch him walk through the doors and Caden comes to my side. “I’m gonna skip the festivities. I’ve got him.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. It’s what we do.”
“Caden, how bad is it?”
“Long run we aren’t sure. Current time— he’s done. Pretty fucking bad.”
“Done for good?”
“At least the season.”
This is bad. To some it’s a game. Just like my photography is a hobby.
But to Mason it’s his life. It’s his expression. It’s his therapy. It’s his heart.
His endgame.
Dreams are spun to live.
To escape.
To fulfill.
Nightmares robbed his dream and I can’t beat back the reality.
“Take care of him.” I plead.
“I will. Come over when you’re done. It may not seem like it, but he wants you. He doesn’t know how to reconcile everything. Baseball has been his center with everything else circling it. The ball is dropped and everything else crumbled with it. This is his identity and it’s in crisis.”
I get it. Or I’m trying to.
On the way to see my niece I stop at the chapel. I’m not much of a prayer girl — I have faith and believe but don’t necessarily worship. “Lord, watch over those I love and lead them to peace.” I don’t have much else to say but I sit for a moment absorbing the tranquility.
Darby is by far the most beautiful baby I’ve seen. Long skinny fingers, chipmunk cheeks, and rosebud mouth. A dark dusting of hair and the sweetest scent I’ve inhaled. “I’m in love.” I admit.
Everyone chuckles as I stare down at her. I promise her to be the best aunt, best friend, and best role model for her. Her fingers grip mine and I’m sold. She’s the most important thing in this life . . . and I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect her.
I tear myself from her and head to Mason’s. It’s dark except the living room light and I feel odd walking in but I don’t want to wake Caden. Except it’s him sitting and staring at the wall. “Hey.”
“He’s sleeping.” His tone is strained and he looks exhausted.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s hurting and I don’t know what to do.” He pauses and sighs. “I was fifteen minutes behind him and he had half a bottle of whiskey drank with a pain pill. He’s so fucking lost and it’s only been a few hours. I’m scared.”
So am I. If his best friend can’t reach him how the fuck can I? “I’ll go check on him.”
“Don’t take his words to heart. He’s being a dick.” Hopefully he’s fast asleep because I’m not up for a fight. My wish is granted, so I get a bottle of water and place it on the nightstand and pull the covers up. I wave to Caden as I go home and cry myself to sleep. Not for myself — but for him. For the birth of my niece. For everything that’s happened this year and again for him.
“Please repeat what you just said?” I hadn’t been able to get through to him for days . . . and this is how he starts this conversation.
“I can’t play and will have free time during Spring Break. Why don’t you just stay here with me?”
It didn’t sound better the second time. Three days and I’ve gotten one-syllable answers from him . . . in between him popping pain pills like they were candy in a Pez dispenser. Washing them down with beer or whatever was available. I understood he was hurting and had been patient.
Until now.
“Chris arrives tomorrow night. I leave the next day. I’ve tried for days to console you, give you space, be your punching bag and today you wake up and ask me to pass up this opportunity because yours is on hiatus?”
“It isn’t on fucking hiatus, Brecklynn. It’s gone. I can’t fucking play.” Ten. I need to count to ten. Fuck that.
“You don’t know that. They said it wasn’t torn and to rest it. You could be back in twelve weeks.”
“When the season is over and my stats tanked.”
“BUT YOU CAN STILL PLAY!” I’m losing all patience. “Look at the bigger picture. Your dream isn’t over. It’s postponed.”
“God, you’re naïve. Or dumb. My dream isn’t college ball. It’s the majors. And next season my eligibility constraint is up. Without this season I’m toast. Nobody is gonna look at me.”
“Cry me a fucking river. From what you and everyone else tell me, you’re golden. You’re a damn phenomenon and you will get the opportunity. But not if you piss it away on booze and pills.”
“Fine. Go. Live your life— follow your dreams. Just go.” I won’t cry. I refuse to give him that satisfaction.
“Are you going with us tomorrow?” I asked him weeks ago to meet Chris and go for drinks with us before I leave at the ass crack of dawn.
“Nah. I’ll pass. I need to study since that’s all I have.”
“All you have?” I question.
“Yep.” His one word is final.
I lied. He’s seeing me cry. And he isn’t fucking reacting. I stand there, silently begging him to fix this and he looks through me.
After dinner with everyone— sans Mason— Chris and I are heading for drinks, sticking to our original plan. My brother stops me. “You okay?”
“Great.” I’m not getting into this. I haven’t said a word to anyone . . . except Caden. Because he heard the fight.
“Why isn’t Mason here?” I shrug, my attitude getting the best of me.
“Who knows? I’m yesterday’s news . . . just like I suspected from the beginning.”
“I’ll kill him.” He snarls.
“I’d let you if he wasn’t already dead.” And that’s the truth.
“Shit. I can’t imagine.”
“Yeah, and neither can he.” I kiss his cheek. “Bye. I’ll see you when I get back.” I walk to Saylor. “Since you couldn’t accommodate my schedule prior to my trip, please wait until I’m home to have this little one.”
“Bite your tongue. As a matter of fact I’m going home to have sex until she decides to grace us with her presence.”
“I didn’t think it was possible in this group, but that was way too much information.” I hug her and steal a quick hug from my niece. Well, I hug her because she just lays there staring at me.
As I walk past Deacon I smack his head. “Your wife has plans for you big boy. Don’t dent the baby’s head.” I wink and follow Chris to the waiting car.
Chris feeds me drinks while rehashing details of his boyfriend and I’m dying with his descriptions of the night they met. An open mic night and Roger was playing the banjo. Chris had been drinking and heckling him—much to Chris’s surprise, Roger grabbed a flute from someone’s hand and proceeded to tell him all the unsavory things he would do with said flute . . . reminiscent of American Pie. I have tears rolling down my face.
I settle down and shoot another tequila shot when my phone vibrates. Pulling it from my pocket I see Mason sent me a text. Hopeful he’s calmed down and will join us I open it.
Mason: Having fun?
Me: I wish you were here. I hate fighting with you.
Mason: It doesn’t seem that way.
My eyes are drawn to the other side of the dance floor and there he is . . . beer in hand, baseball bimbo on his arm. My chest seizes and I can’t stop staring. A train wreck couldn’t draw my eyes from him. I’m imploring him to see the pain he’s causing because of his jealousy.
I understand he’s dealing with a lot of shit and his mind is muddled but hurting me— on purpose— isn’t the answer. And I refuse to be his punching bag. He tilts his bottle towards me in a mock cheers as he takes the brunette to the dance floor and defiles her with clothes on . . . that’s the only plus. My alcohol sloshes in my stomach threatening to reappear as the images of what he’ll do with her when I leave.
I stand to end his charade when her lips graze his and he doesn’t pull back. His eyes are glassy and he isn’t steady on his feet but that isn’t my concern. He violated me without touching me. ‘Peter Pan’ by Kelsea Ballerini plays and I watch him sway while holding her to him. I don’t know if it’s alcohol or lust . . . but I can’t stay to find out.
“Whoa, Brecklynn. Where are you going?” I grab the shot glass and pour the liquid down my throat, enjoying the burn — at least it takes my mind off the searing pain in my heart.
“I have to go.” My head spins and my vision has swarms of black dots impairing it.
“I’ll get us an Uber.” He stands and throws some money down to cover our tab. My drunkenness takes ahold and I start cackling uncontrollably. God, this hurts. I can’t control the emotions coursing my body and I stumble to the front door bent in pain and amusement.
Amusement for what, I’m not sure but everything is funny. The bouncer’s biceps, the girls skirt as I pass her. The neon lights and the pulsing beat of the music— it’s all hilarious and tragic at the same time. Like my life. Reminiscent of this silent implosion Mason just detonated on us.
Officers are outside guiding people to the line of cabs and Chris is busy with his phone trying to get us an Uber. My knees buckle, my sight disappears and I’m on the curb — sitting on my ass with no recollection of how I got here. “Shit, Brecklynn, are you okay?”
The laughter.
The tears.
The pain.
They all mix and I can’t form a coherent thought.
“Cab.” The officer says as he towers over me.
“I’m waiting for an Uber.” Chris informs him.
“Cab or cuffs.” The reply makes up Chris’s mind and he pulls me up from the curb. I’m not ready to let that invitation go.
“Will you be cuffing me or do you have a friend?” I tease. Only the officer isn’t smiling.
“Ma’am have you ever been to jail?”
“Nope.” Shit the tequila hit me.
“How old are you?” I’m not sure. My body feels ninety. My heart feels broken. My age is inconsequential. I don’t get a chance to tell him — I’m hauled into Chris’s arms and placed in the back of a cab.
“You’re trouble.” He teases.
The laughter subsides.
The tears pour.
The pain . . . indescribable. An axe slicing into a tree isn’t enough damage to what he did to me back there.
“You aren’t a pretty drunk.” He wipes my face. “But you’re a funny one.”
“Mason.” I whisper and scour the throngs of people outside the club as the cab pulls away.
There he is.
Standing in the entryway watching my cab pull into the road.
Holding tight to my replacement.
His upgrade.
His future.
He holds his future as his past drives away.
“Was he there? Want me to call him?” I shake my head and sob.
“He was there. He made his point.” I have six days to get over him.
Six days on an island.
Six days to eradicate his hold on my heart.
Six days to pull myself together.
Six days to mourn my heart and my stupidity.
Six days to let go of my heart and focus on my dreams.
Six days isn’t long enough.
I stumble through the club trying to reach my girl. Why’s she leaving with that guy? Why’s she ignoring me? We were just dancing and having a good time. I search my pockets for my phone and I can’t find it. Shit, if I forgot it at home again Brecklynn is gonna kill me.
I make my way back to the barstool certain what I witnessed is a nightmare and she’ll be back from the bathroom in a minute. My blonde beauty wouldn’t break my heart. A body presses against me and I smile. She came back and I convince her we can ditch our friends and head home to my bed. I need her body under mine . . . I need to hear her scream my name and feel her skin tight against mine.
“Mason, what the fuck!” Why’s Caden shouting in my ear? “How much have you had to drink?” Huh? He’s lost his mind — I’m snuggling with my girl watching one of her chick flicks she loves so much.
“Shhh. You’ll wake Brecklynn.” My shoulder sears as he jerks my arm. I’m gonna punch his lights out when I can untangle Doll from me.
“What the fuck are you saying? I can’t understand a word.” I blink and Deacon is in my vision.
“Let’s just get him home.” Caden sighs. I don’t know what they’re smoking but they’re tripping.
“Let go of me.” I try to jerk from their grip and groan in pain.
“Fuck.” Deacon snarls.
I stretch and it feels as if a cat shit in my mouth . . . and washed it down with its piss. Reaching to my side for Brecklynn I’m shocked to find her side cold . . . and empty. I’m starving so I’m hoping she decided to make some breakfast. If not, I’ll take her to eat.
First stop is the bathroom to scrub the scum from my teeth. I have one mission and it’s to find Brecklynn. Stumbling into the living room Caden, Deacon, and Avery are in conversation. “Hey. Did I forget a family meeting?” I chuckle. We haven’t had a pow-wow in a while. “Where are Saylor and my Princess? Lee and Brody?”
Karma (Endgame Series Book 3) Page 16
