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Curveball (Barlow Sisters Book 1)

Page 18

by Jordan Ford


  Taking in a breath, I prep myself for the standard introduction.

  Before I can say anything, Grandpa glances my way, his face lighting with a smile. “Holden, my boy. It’s good to see ya. Come over here and get talking. I want to catch up on all your news.”

  Tears burn my eyes while my throat swells tight. He’s having one of his good moments. Shuffling into the room, I take a seat opposite him and lean in so he can kiss my cheek.

  He lightly slaps my face with a friendly laugh. “How you been, son?”

  I open my mouth to speak, then deflate with a heavy sigh.

  His bushy eyebrows pucker with concern and the truth tumbles out of me before I can stop it. There’s no point lying. Grandpa will forget it soon anyway, so I take hold of this precious moment and use it, emptying out my angst in a torrent of words. I tell him everything from the moment I first saw Maddie to how I ruined everything by leading Chloe on and then kissing her older sister.

  It feels good to get it out, but it doesn’t take away the clouds of sadness rolling through me.

  I screwed up.

  I acted like a jerk.

  And now I’m paying a price.

  31

  Frightened by the Unexpected

  MADDIE

  Forgot something at school. Have to run back and get it. Tell Mom I’ll be home for dinner.

  I press Send and hope Max gets the message.

  She’s been kind of distracted lately and there’s a chance she won’t even check her phone. With a huff, I send the message to Chloe as well, hoping she hasn’t left her phone somewhere random.

  For a teenager, she’s totally inept with technology. Most of us are glued to our phones, but she has this ability to just be in the moment. She’s more interested in face-to-face contact and is constantly leaving her phone behind.

  “Just put it in your pocket,” I always tell her.

  “It makes it stick out funny. None of my pockets are big enough.”

  “Hence a purse.”

  “I hate purses. They look pretty and everything, but it’s just another thing to carry around. I’ll just hold it.”

  “And leave it somewhere.”

  The conversation usually ends with her poking her tongue out at me or making a face that cracks me up.

  She’s gorgeous and incorrigible…and I don’t know what I would do without her.

  Sliding my phone into my bag, I tighten the shoulder straps and do an about turn. School’s only a ten-minute jog away. Five minutes there. Twenty minutes home. Yeah, I should make it home for dinner…hopefully.

  Crap. Mom will probably be annoyed if I’m not. I should have really asked Max to come back and get me, but she won’t want to do that.

  I frown. Max is kind of worrying me.

  Chloe and I have found our way. Sort of. I mean, I still hate that I can’t pursue Holden. Every time I catch a glimpse of his face, I want to fold. But I’m determined not to hurt my sister again. She has to come first.

  It doesn’t help that Holden seems to have taken a large chunk of my brain’s territory. Every time my mind relaxes it finds a way to picture him—on the mound or answering a question in class or throwing me a smile that he knows I can’t reciprocate…or sitting in Cresthill hanging out with his grandpa…or sipping his milkshake and opening up to me on the water tower…

  “Max,” I mutter. “You’re worried about Max.”

  I clench my teeth and shoo Holden out of my conscience.

  Just because we can get away with a little banter on the baseball field doesn’t mean we can have a relationship. Although, I’ve never been more motivated to play ball. Funny that.

  “Max.” I spit out my sister’s name like it’s going to somehow save me from thinking about Holden.

  I’m such a lost cause right now.

  Picking up my pace, I pump my arms and rush back to school. I need to get down to the locker room to grab my sweater before the place is locked up for the night. I don’t have much time thanks to Bess, who is the most irritating girl I’ve ever met.

  We have to do a group assignment for Business Studies. I hate group assignments because I always end up doing most of the work and the other two just ride my coattails. It’s happening again with Bess and this guy named Lance who can never string more than two words together. Since baseball practice was canceled this afternoon—Coach didn’t tell us why—I convinced them to meet in the library so we could finally get a decent chunk of the assignment done.

  It was the longest two hours of my life, and then just as I was running home, I remembered that I left my sweater in the locker room on Saturday. It may seem stupid, but I’m compelled to go back and get it.

  I’m in a foul mood thanks to Bess and Lance, and maybe I just need some extra time to cool off or something. It’s as good an excuse as any.

  I stop to check my phone when it dings.

  No worries. See you at dinner.

  Chloe. I wonder what she got up to this afternoon.

  And Max. Where was she?

  I shouldn’t keep tabs on her. She’s her own person, but…

  Well, she disappeared at the dance on Saturday. I kind of didn’t want to go because I was dreading the idea of spending the night not looking at Holden. In the end, he never showed so it wasn’t a problem…even though I couldn’t deny a sharp spike of disappointment. I so don’t get me sometimes.

  Instead I focused on Chloe and making sure she had the best night she could. Rahn joined us and we danced. We laughed. We mended bridges.

  But Max wasn’t there.

  She’d taken off with some mumbled excuse about not feeling that great. I tried to persuade her to stay, but she wasn’t interested. I was expecting to find her curled up in bed when I got home, but she snuck into the house after curfew. I had to cover for her and everything.

  The thing that’s got me really worried is that she won’t tell me where she was.

  “Please just let me keep this secret, sis. I promise I’ll tell you when the timing’s right.”

  My imagination has been going wild ever since. I don’t know what the heck she’s into right now, but I have to trust that it’s not illegal. Surely Max wouldn’t be that stupid.

  I round the corner, my pace slowing as school draws near.

  I’m going to have to pin Max down at some point and force the truth out of her. We’ve never kept secrets from each other and I seriously hate it.

  Jogging back into the school grounds, I check out the sparsely populated parking lot. My forehead flickers with a frown. Students aren’t really allowed in the building once it’s locked up for the night. The janitor works his way through the school, locking up each section. Any outside users, like community groups that use the facilities, have their own access to selected parts of the school. The locker rooms will definitely be locked up if I don’t hurry.

  Shouldering the gym door open, I’m relieved to feel it give way. Phew. I’m not too late. I run across the courts and head into the hallway, which leads to the locker and workout rooms. It’s basically pitch black.

  Crap, I better hurry.

  I don’t want to piss off the janitor. He probably wants to get home and doesn’t want some annoying student holding him up.

  I race down the darkened corridor but am stopped short by a noise in the workout room.

  That’s weird. Why is the janitor locking up in the dark?

  I stop, waiting for him to pop out. Shit, I better explain myself so he doesn’t have a heart attack when he sees me.

  “Hey. Hi. I just need to grab something from the girls’ locker room.”

  He doesn’t say anything and no one pops into the corridor like I’m expecting.

  Did I just imagine that noise?

  Sliding the bag off my shoulders, I rest it against the wall and pad towards the workout room. I flick on the light and freeze when I hear a soft noise coming from Coach Keenan’s office.

  I’m not imagining anything.

  “Hello? Is som
eone here?”

  I’m met with silence again. This time it has a cold, frozen quality about it. My gut starts going crazy. It’s an uneasy stirring that I can’t shake.

  Biting my lips together, I softly creep around the leg press and work my way towards Coach’s office. My heart starts thundering. My muscles wind a little tighter with each step closer.

  I’m totally psyching myself out.

  I’ll probably find nothing.

  My mind is playing tricks on me.

  I snicker and shake my head for being so paranoid.

  I step around the shelves that store all the free weights and fitness bands. I’m about to peek into Coach Keenan’s office when a blur of black comes hurtling towards me.

  Frightened by the unexpected, I let out a yelp and then a sharp cry when the black blur shoulders me out of the way.

  “Hey!” I shout, throwing out my leg and tripping the person up.

  He lands on the ground with an oomph, but then quickly snaps to his feet and turns around with his bag. It catches me on the shoulder, tipping my balance. I stumble to the right, but quickly find my footing.

  I should probably let him take off, but like hell am I getting hit by some ski-mask-wearing jerk.

  I launch after him, attempting to pull off his black mask so I can see who I’m fighting. This is probably the guy who’s been stealing all the money. The guy who set up Vincent.

  I can tell it’s a dude from his build. He’s not particularly tall or broad, but he’s strong. As my fingers scrape down the ski mask, his elbow comes firing back, hitting me in the chin and throwing me off balance.

  I do this awkward kind of spin and smash into the wall, but immediately try to push back as anger sparks inside of me. I don’t have a chance, though. His body slams me back down, squishing me between him and the wall. His breathing is fast and erratic as he presses his arm against the back of my neck.

  He’s trying to warn me to back the hell off and let him leave.

  Not happening.

  “Ahhhh!” I fight back, struggling beneath his hold. “Get off me!”

  With a scream, I push off the wall and wrench my body around, once again grappling to rip off his mask. He slaps my hands away and swings out with a panicky right hook that clips my cheekbone. Pain explodes across my face, my eyes bulging wide as my anger is replaced with the sharp tang of fear.

  Gripping my shirt, he pulls me towards him and fires his knee into my thigh. My leg goes dead and immediately buckles. Snatching his jacket sleeves, I instinctively hold on before I hit the floor. He grunts and tries to shake himself free but I squeeze a little tighter. I don’t want this asshole to get away.

  He grunts again and fists my shirt, shoving me back against the wall.

  “Ahh!” I cry out as my shoulder smacks into a sharp edge, but still I hold on until he rips his arm away with what feels like superhuman force.

  A sharp pain slices across the palm of my hand, but I barely have a chance to squeak before he grabs me and pushes me towards the window of Coach Keenan’s office. My head smacks against the glass and a band of pain wraps itself around me before I flop to the floor like a rag doll.

  My mind is spinning as I strain to see the black blur rush out of the workout room. The sound of racing feet fades into the distance and I’m enveloped by silence.

  Closing my eyes, I let out a soft whimper as my head lolls to the side.

  32

  Soul Splitter

  HOLDEN

  I jerk to a stop in the school parking lot, hoping I still have time to retrieve the book from my locker before the school is locked up for the night. I’m probably an idiot for coming back to get it, but Luke’s busy tonight, I’m not working, and it’s a great chance to plow through some homework and free myself up for the rest of the week.

  Locking my car, I run up the front steps and check the double doors. They’re already bolted shut.

  “Shit,” I mutter, sprinting back down and racing around to the back.

  I see the light is still on in Coach Keenan’s office. Excellent. He can let me in.

  Puffing to a stop at the gym door, I give it a nudge, relieved to find it popping open.

  “Hey!” Finch, the school janitor, yells at me. “I’m about to lock that. Get your butt out of school and go home.”

  I smile at him, my sneakers squeaking on the floor as I ignore his command and keep walking forward. “I just left something in my locker. I swear, I’ll be quick.”

  He grunts and waves his hand at me. “You got five minutes. I want to go home.”

  “Don’t worry, Coach Keenan’s still working. He can lock up for you.”

  Finch’s head jerks back with a frown. “No, he ain’t. I’ve already finished down that end.”

  I slow to a stop and spin back around to look at Finch. “Then why are the lights still on in his office, and the workout room?”

  Finch’s bottom lip sticks out and he shrugs, looking more confused than ever.

  “I’ll go check it out on my way to my locker. Maybe one of the guys left a light on.”

  “Thanks, Carter.” He bobs his head at me. “I’m locking up this door now. You let yourself out down the stairs next to my office. Five minutes.” He holds up his hand, splaying his fingers to reinforce how much time I’m allowed.

  “Got it.” I pick up my pace and run out of the gym, deciding to check Coach Keenan’s office first. Finch’s confusion is making me uneasy.

  Vincent was busted with that gear…surely he’s not stupid enough to come back and steal something else. The school’s running out of things to pilfer.

  Heading down the dark corridor, I turn into the workout room.

  “Hello? Coach?” I call softly, not wanting to startle him.

  He doesn’t respond.

  My brows dip with confusion as I scan the area. “Coach? You in here?”

  This time I get a very faint reply. It’s not the hello I was expecting. It’s more of a groggy moan.

  “Hello?” I rush around the leg press and jerk to a stop behind the white shelves.

  My heart lurches up my throat.

  “Maddie,” I breathe out the second I spot her gold chain necklace.

  She’s struggling to sit up, resting her weight on her elbow and cradling her head. Her right hand is fisted into a ball and blood is oozing between her fingers.

  Rushing to her side, I crouch down and support her back.

  “Are you okay?” I brush the hair away from her face and my core grows cold when I notice the red, swollen welt on her left cheek, the egg-shaped lump on her forehead, and the red mark on her chin. “What happened?”

  “Not sure.” She groans, gripping my forearm in an effort to hold herself up. “He was in black. I didn’t see his face.”

  I shuffle closer so she can lean against me. Her body goes limp, flopping into my chest with a relieved sigh.

  My nostrils flare as I battle the emotions trying to choke off my air supply. She was attacked—by some guy in black. My icy core is being melted by a hot magma that wants to find that guy and smash his head in.

  “Help me up,” Maddie murmurs, gripping my arm again in an effort to stand.

  I support her back and slowly rise, lifting her with me.

  As soon as she’s straight, her leg buckles and I catch her against me, scooping my arm beneath her legs and carrying her over to the bench seat.

  “What did he do to you?” I place her down and smooth back her hair so I can get a better look at her face.

  She’s going to have a black eye in the morning.

  I’m gonna kill that asshole.

  “He…” She licks her lips, closing her eyes like it’s a struggle to remember. Gently fingering the lump on her forehead, she winces. “He just rushed towards me. I tripped him up and tried to stop him, but he slammed me against the wall and…and punched me…and gave me a dead leg.”

  She points to her thigh and I gently lift up the bottom edge of her shorts so I can get a bet
ter look. There’s already an orange-sized bruise forming.

  “I’m gonna kill him,” I mutter, reaching for her hand and gently prying her fingers open.

  There’s a short straight gash in her palm. I don’t know what made it, but it looks like it hurts. Grabbing a clean hand towel from the stack in the corner, I try to wipe some of the blood away.

  She hisses and bites her lips together.

  “I’m seriously going to kill him.”

  “Get in line.” She snickers.

  I can’t help a smile. Even beat up and hurting she’s able to make a joke.

  The emotion that I only feel around her swells in my chest, taking the edge off my anger. I press the towel in her hand and then softly brush my fingers down her cheek. “How’s your head feeling? Is your vision blurry or anything?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “It’s pounding. Maybe I’ve got a mild concussion, but it doesn’t feel too bad. I just…” Her bottom lip trembles for a second. “I just feel beat up.”

  Dammit, if she cries right now, I don’t think my heart can take it.

  “Was it Vinnie?” I choke out the question, rage still bubbling beneath the surface.

  She sighs and rests her unhurt cheek against my shoulder. I shift my crouching position to accommodate her and cradle the back of her head. “I don’t think it was him. This guy seemed shorter, but I don’t really know. He was wearing a mask.”

  “So, it could have been Vinnie.”

  “He’s suspended. Why would he risk coming back here?”

  “Because he’s an idiot.”

  Maddie lets out a soft sigh. “It doesn’t matter right now.”

  “It does matter.” I lean away from her and gently take her face in my hands. “Someone hurt you. That matters. I want to find him and make sure he never touches you again.”

  A soft smile pulls at her lips. “You really are the sweet, protective type, aren’t you? If only people knew.”

  My chest constricts as that familiar sadness washes through me.

  Her eyes reflect what I’m feeling and I lean in towards her mouth.

 

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