Karma (Endgame Series Book 3)

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “It’s okay to love him and be mad at him. It’s okay to be his friend and hers. There aren’t sides here. I know how you feel . . . Mason is there for us no matter what and it bothers us we couldn’t do the same for him but it isn’t a reflection on us. Or him. It’s a circumstance and how we deal with the repercussions is what’s a reflection on us.” Saylor adds.

  “I just want to fix it. All of it.” Lee Lee cries.

  “We all do but we have to let this one play out. Believe me, I want to shake her and show her he loves her . . . but I understand the need she has to protect herself.”

  “Well, welcome to adulthood my friends. This shit sucks.” Lee Lee sits back and sighs. “No wonder our parents like alcohol.” She sits up. “Brody is gonna kill me. I made his sister cry.”

  Saylor laughs. “Lee Lee’s gonna get it. And she can’t fuck him to lessen his anger because her six weeks isn’t up.”

  “I think she needed that release. She’s bottled it all up afraid of our reactions and with good reason. You’ve been shitty.” Avery reminds Lee Lee.

  “Why am I the bitch? I wanna be the good witch.” She whines.

  “Not a bitch, Lee Lee. You care too much and good intentions are just that . . . they can’t be applied.”

  “You ready for camp?” Deacon tosses the ball back to me. In my parents backyard with the guys I’m working my arm with pitches. I can’t go full force, not even at the camps we’ve scheduled but I can learn tips and implement them when I’m back to full strength.

  “Yeah.” I wind up slow, careful I don’t over extend or over work my muscles. Releasing the ball it’s a beautiful curve and I smile. “That felt good.”

  “Perfect form.” Brody is to my side watching me like a hawk. “I think he still has it boys.”

  “Hell yes he does. He’s Mason-fucking-Adler.” Caden fist bumps Deacon and standing here isn’t the same as the mound but today . . . it feels just as good.

  “Emberlee’s parents are throwing her a graduation party and she wants you there.” Brody mentions as Caden settles down to give me signals.

  “I’m there.” I stop to look at him. “If you’re good with that.”

  “I am. I don’t know if Brecklynn will be. I’m trying to refrain from beating the shit outta you.” He isn’t joking and I don’t blame him.

  “I wouldn’t stop you.” I drop the ball and glove and turn to face him. “I wish you would.”

  He shrugs. “It sucks. Embe would kill me and I’m sure Brecklynn would finish if my girl didn’t succeed. But, it’s my job to defend my sister. I can’t reconcile it.”

  “Do it. Hit me.” I step closer . . . wishing he’d lay me out. I punish myself enough and it isn’t scratching the surface to alleviate the guilt I have.

  “If you’d hurt her with purpose I wouldn’t hesitate.” He stops me with his words. Deacon and Caden come to create a wall so he can’t reach me. “But what you’re putting yourself through and what you did to your body . . . it’s worse than a black eye.”

  “Whoa.” Deacon steps to Brody. “Defending your sister is honorable but it’s done and over.”

  “DD— it’s all good.” I push him back wanting whatever Brody is willing to give me. “I won’t tell the girls if you want to punch me.”

  “Nah.” He shakes my hand. “Loving her and losing her . . . you’re punishing yourself. I don’t know if I want her to give you a second chance but if anyone deserves it you do.”

  “I don’t know about that.” I go back to tossing the ball and it doesn’t give me the same joy. Don’t get it twisted . . . I still love it but something substantial is missing from my life. Or someone.

  Saylor and Emberlee show up with kids in tow. “Unca Mace.” Julie sighs as she rests her head against my shoulder. “Kisey cwy.” Her chubby hands pat my face.

  “Aw, Princess. You being nice to your sister?” I know it’s been an adjustment for her.

  “She cwy.” I chuckle.

  “No, this little one doesn’t like to share attention and she misses a certain someone.” Saylor kisses my cheek as she walks in the house. Emberlee follows and smiles at me.

  “Wow. I have five ladies here for my company. I’m a lucky man.”

  “Mine. Unca Mace mine.” Julie whines.

  “Yes, I’m yours.” And I am. This little firecracker owns me.

  “Bekin mine. She give me pop.” I chuckle.

  “My girl gave you a pop. Was it blue?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nods emphatically. “Youz gots pops?”

  “Of course.” I take her to the kitchen and show her the candy jar. “One.” I tell her.

  My mom comes in and steals the kids so we settle into the couch and I ask. “What’s up?”

  “Lee Lee made Brecklynn cry. And break all her equipment.” Saylor narks.

  “Bitch.” Lee Lee gives her a dirty look.

  “Whoa. Slow down.” I look to Shortstop. “Do what?”

  “Lee Lee said what her and I had discussed. We’d been blaming Brecklynn for denying you a second chance. Let’s just say . . . she’s feisty.”

  “Like all the other women in my life. What did you do?” I look at Lee Lee.

  “I told her she took pictures and she abandoned you. That she was wrong and I was a bitch. That’s the short version.” I groan because I’m sure the extended account is worse.

  “Lee Lee.” She sighs.

  “I know. I was wrong. But Mason, we all fuck up at one time.” She’s correct, but this is deeper.

  “We do. And we have to accept the repercussions of our actions. Remember?” I give her a pointed look. “You can’t snap your fingers and fix things. It isn’t your mess to clean up.”

  “I understand. And I want to add I’m mad at you.” She kicks my leg. “But I love you and I’m proud of you.”

  “I get it. I let you both down. Darby and Kinsley didn’t get the attention they deserved and I was kinda MIA during that time. I’m sorry. I can’t change it but I can make it up to y’all.”

  “In that case, there’s this adorable purse I saw online.” Lee Lee winks.

  “Hey, I just want a full nights sleep.” Saylor moans.

  “Come on. Both of you.” I lead them to the opposite side of the house. Show them separate rooms and tuck them in. “Mom and I have the girls. Sleep as long as you want.” You’d think they won the lottery but I’m the winner in this scenario. I’m taking care of Saylor and Emberlee and spending time with the next generation. Setting an example of how they should be treated and showing them by example.

  Five games of tag, a few bottles and diapers . . . three shirts covered in spit up . . . the girls come downstairs bright eyed. “You’re a savior.” Saylor hugs me.

  “Unca Mace MINE!” Julie pushes her legs.

  “No ma’am. You don’t push.” Saylor picks her up. “He’s my friend but your Unca. We don’t use our hands.”

  “That isn’t what Deacon says.” I joke.

  “And . . . he’s back.” She giggles. “Thank f-u-c-k.”

  Emberlee cradles Darby and my mom is staring at Saylor begging her to leave Kinsley in her arms. “They have to go, Mom.”

  “Bu . . . but. I wanna baby.” She stares at me.

  “Hey . . . back off lady.” I wink.

  “Anytime you girls need a babysitter.” She offers and I laugh. She’s like third in line for that role.

  “Y’all are two of the most stubborn people.” Brody is frustrated with his wife and me. He’s lucky I came to Emberlee’s party. I haven’t spoken to her since our heated argument . . . I don’t care how many times she’s apologized. Or replaced my camera.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes.

  I fake a smile as people pass us. “She’s sorry.”

  “And I’m not ready to forgive her.”

  “Breck . . .”

  “Brody. I get it. I’m allowed to have a bad day. Or week. Or month. Get off my back.” I’m angry.

  At Mason.

  A
t life.

  At fate.

  “Okay. I’m sorry. Know we love you.”

  “I do know that. It’s the sole reason you’re both still alive.” I start to storm off but I’m frozen when Mason and his parents come in. He makes a beeline to me and I close my eyes and pray he bypasses.

  “Mom, Dad. This is my girl Brecklynn. Brecklynn these are my parents Jason and Michelle.” His girl. Oh God, he’s gonna make me show my crazy in front of strangers.

  “Oh, you’re beautiful.” Michelle embraces me. I narrow my eyes at him and he grins. Fucking smiles at me.

  Jason is next. “My boy loves you.” Oh, my mom is gonna rethink her spanking stance with my next move.

  “Thank you,” I smile at them. “But there’s been a mistake. I’m not his girl. If you’ll excuse me.” I hear Brody gasp. Mason chuckle. His mom giggle and his dad whistle.

  Where’s a rock when you wanna climb under one?

  Hands cover my eyes and I lash at the body shrouding me in dark. Connecting with skin I claw and struggle. “Shit. Ow. Sorry.” I know it’s Emberlee’s voice but I can’t resonate it.

  “Doll. Calm down.” His hands soothe me. His words reach me. I inhale.

  Turning I see Lee Lee standing there with her mouth agape. “Sorry.” I choke.

  “Lee Lee you can’t trap her like that.” Mason reprimands her. “You good?”

  “Fine.” I push from his arms and hide in the bathroom for a little bit. When I decide to return the party is in full swing but Emberlee finds me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “It’s okay. Sorry for hitting you.” I smile as she hugs me. “I forgive you . . . for everything.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you did.” She shrugs. “You’re stuck with me. By the way, I’m dropping your niece off tomorrow at noon. I’ll pick her up Sunday when I wake up.” She bounces off to greet and mingle with her other guests and I laugh.

  Maybe . . . just maybe things will be okay.

  I escaped the party without running into Mason but I don’t have any such luck when he knocks on my door. “Hey. Avery isn’t here.”

  “I know. I wanted to come see you since I head to Texas in the morning.” His hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s rocking on his heels.

  “Ah, camp.” I remember.

  “Keeping tabs on me?” He winks. I roll my eyes. “God, I miss you.” I’m silent.

  We stare and the pull is still there.

  The pain is a barrier that won’t let me broach it.

  “I’ll have my phone with me at all times. If you need anything call me. If you wanna talk, call.” I nod . . . knowing I won’t use it. “I’m gonna fix this, Doll. I promise. I’m fixing me and then I’m gonna fix us. Put your broken faith back together piece by piece . . . and be the glue that keeps it strong.” He’s so earnest in his beliefs.

  “Mason. Focus on you.”

  “I am. But I’m half a man without you.” I roll my eyes. “Too much?”

  “With you— always.” I laugh despite the tears.

  “Be ready come August. It’s game time, baby and I’m gonna win.”

  “We aren’t a game, Mason.”

  “No, we aren’t. We’re a fucking fairytale . . . one that’ll go down in history.” He winks and leaves. But next to where he was standing is a box wrapped in pretty purple paper.

  Camera equipment.

  And a note.

  “You may think I’m off chasing my dream, but I’m not.

  My dream is staying in Kansas . . . capturing images that tell a story.

  I’m cementing a future for her.

  One where we support one another.

  So get ready to seize our life because our story has just begun.

  Love,

  Ace

  Mason fucking Adler strikes again.

  The summer passes with little fanfare. Emberlee is rocking her party shit and I get to spend my free time with Darby and Kinsley. Julie tags along but she’s always jabbering about her Unca Mace and showing me the trinkets he sends her.

  “Sunday dinner is here tonight.” Avery calls.

  “Why? We just did it last week.” I hate cooking.

  “Go figure. We’re the only house accompanied solely by vagina . . . yet we have the one grill. Mason is coming home and we’re grilling.” She smiles and bats her eyelashes.

  “You’re lucky I love you.”

  “And him. Don’t forget you love him.”

  “Go to hell.” I sing at her. “I’m not helping. This is all you.”

  “Lazy.”

  “Where’d you go last night?” That question shuts her up. “You ever gonna tell me who you’re doing?”

  “Not my vibrator like you . . . but that’s none of my business. Does Mason know the Purple Pounder is named after him?”

  “You’re a bitch.”

  “And you’re a screamer.” I chuck the dishrag at her and we both dissolve in a fit of giggles.

  Darby and Kinsley are both rolling and babbling — hard to believe they’re close to five months. Julie isn’t interested in either of them . . . her worship status of Mason taken to a new level because he’s home . . . in her sights. He brought her dress up outfits from his time in Florida and she’s modeling them for us. Each and every one of the nineteen outfits.

  He looks good and his training has paid off. He’s fit and tan, smiling and relaxed. His eyes keep traveling to me and it’s a full-time job trying to avoid him. “How was your summer?” He takes my hand. I disentangle my fingers and move over . . . again.

  “Fine. Worked.”

  “No play?”

  “No.”

  “I still need to take you on the boat before it’s too cold.” He’s fucking delusional. Acting like nothing changed with us.

  “Mason— we aren’t together. Why are you doing this?”

  “Our hearts are still together.”

  “Give me your man card,” Deacon cheers.

  “Gladly,” he replies. His words are for Deacon but he doesn’t remove his eyes from me.

  I’ve taken up running. It’s the only way I can avoid staring out the window for hours at a time while he builds Julie a swing set . . . for a Princess.

  Piece by piece he carries the lumber to the backyard. Nail by nail his muscles flex as he hammers. His ass on display when he bends over. His torso calling me when he strips his shirt over his head.

  Run.

  Run.

  Run.

  It’s all I can do.

  “How you feeling, Adler?” Coach Gill is looking over my status reports.

  “Better than ever. Healthy. Ready for the season.” I affirm.

  “Good to hear. You know I hate doing this but we’re keeping the weekly drug tests and today is the day. I don’t want to lose you but I have to make sure you’re ready for the field.” I nod. It’s a try-out behind closed doors. He has to do what’s best for the team and if I’m not that pitcher he has to replace me.

  Lucky for me . . . I’m still the best.

  I follow him to the field and he has his radar gun. I take a few deep breaths, roll my shoulders, and rotate my neck. Caden is behind home plate ready to call pitches; Deacon sitting in the dugout for support. Brody is off by third base in case he’s needed but I’ve got this.

  The butterflies swirl in my stomach; I pop the mouthful of sunflower seeds in my mouth, twist my ball cap backwards and step to my home.

  The pitchers mound. Second to Brecklynn’s arms.

  I focus my gaze to read Caden’s fingers and throw what he asks.

  Curveball.

  Slider.

  Slurve.

  He’s working me up.

  Two seam fastball.

  “Holy shit, Adler.” Coach whistles. I throw a few to make sure I’m ready.

  Caden grins and gives me the signal. Four seam fastball.

  I wind up.

  I release.

  The ball soars.

  The ball spins.

  “
Damn. You got another one in you?” Coach screams.

  “All day long.” I nod. I let another rip. I mix a Knuckle ball in there to give me the feeling of a game and mixing pitches up.

  Another fastball and it’s hot. I drop my glove and inhale the scent of clay, cut grass . . . and elation.

  I came back from this injury.

  I struggled with myself.

  I love baseball.

  But I love myself more.

  The game is part of me but I know I can let it go if need be.

  “Do you know what you threw?”

  “No clue. Just threw what felt good and what I’ve learned.”

  “Ninety-seven, Adler. Ninety-seven was your average. You good?”

  “Feel great.”

  Brody comes over and messes with my shoulder. Applies pressure. Moves it side to side. “Good as gold, Coach.”

  “Adler, welcome home.” I grin. Caden whoops. Deacon joins us. “Prepare for the scouts to fill the stadium. And be ready for playoffs.”

  We walk off the field and Deacon asks. “Wanna celebrate?”

  Funny, the person I wanna call is Brecklynn. “Nah. I gotta go to the parents for a bit. It was all I could do to stop them from coming here.”

  “I’m proud of you, man.” Caden grins.

  “You know what . . . I’m proud of me, too.” I shrug him off. “But I still have one more goal.”

  Brody claps my head. “And believe it or not dick, I’m rooting for you.”

  “Always root for the home team.” I quip.

  “Knock her up . . . it works.” Deacon chimes in.

  “Dude . . . that’s my sister.” Brody glares.

  “And it didn’t work for him.” I laugh.

  “Yep— and my woman and sister are cut from the same stubborn cloth.” No truer words have been spoken.

  Placed on my bed is a photo from today. My knee raised, my hand in the glove holding the ball preparing to wind up and throw. A true pitchers stance. An image I’m positive Breck took. She did some graphics with ‘Ace’ etched in the background and notes of encouragement surround it.