Unscrewed

by Ren Alexander

  As Ricky helps Crick, I maneuver myself past Wilder and the Hogs’ coach and onto Crick’s other side, helping him if he needs it. “You’ll be okay, Crock. You’re nobody to mess with.”

  His face is red, but he still tries for composure. “I’m sorry. I guess you’re up, Greg. And I’m sorry for ruining The Wild Side, Finn.”

  Ricky shakes his head, disbelievingly glancing at Crick. “You’re worried about that? Jesus.”

  Behind us, Wilder says, “You didn’t ruin anything. Go get better.”

  We wait until Crick is on his way to the hospital with Tesco before resuming the game. If the hospital admits him, I’ll be his first visitor.

  Picking up the clipboard, Wilder announces, “Betsy, I need you at first. Rhonda, you’re in at centerfield. Grant, you’re on the mound. Take some practice pitches with Amos.”

  “Whoa. What? Grant? No. I’m okay,” I insist to Wilder, who’s making changes on the batting roster and the field positions.

  Without tearing himself away from the clipboard, he says, “It’s already done.” The black and silver ring Hadley slid onto his left ring finger gleams a big fuck you to my face. But it’s better than her rings, which are the big fuck you to my soul.

  “But why? I can do this. It’ll be better for me without all the running around anyway. Just put me in.”

  “Go have a seat, Rodwell.” He continues to treat me like I’m less than the person who cleans up dog shit at the park. I momentarily glance to the field, watching Grant warming up with Amos, who gives me quick, worried looks every two seconds. His silent headshake and his unblinking gaze tell me to calm down and just do what I’m told.

  Fuck that.

  I cross my arms and hear his subtle frustrated sigh, similar to his sister’s earlier. I have to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “What are you doing, Wilder?”

  He flips through the papers and then sighing louder, he finally looks up at me. His patience is taking a nosedive by the way his jaw tics. “I’m trying to coach this team, but it’s impossible with you questioning every decision I make.”

  “Well, gee whiz, coach. You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel with Grant. Seriously? He’s the snail slime beneath the damn barrel. He’s no pitcher.”

  With his sunglasses firmly in place, I can only see the vague outlines of his eyes. “He’s been practicing for a while now in case we needed another pitcher. He’ll be all right.”

  “When’re you putting me back in?”

  “I think we’ll manage without you. Go rest your ass.” His lip quirks, again mocking me.

  Shaking my head, I laugh, but it soon becomes the not-so-funny kind, seeing the smug look he’s currently sporting. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Not really in a joking kind of mood right now.”

  “Could’ve fooled me. You’d have a better chance blindfolding Audrey, spinning her around until she’s dizzy, and having her pitch.” Forgetting she’s sitting in the dugout while Nico’s at first base, I frown, not wanting to hurt her feelings or anything. She’s a nice enough kid. I put my hands on my hips, watching my teammates watching me, knowing something’s going on. From right field, I see Hadley taking slow steps like she doesn’t know what to do. I tell Wilder, “You’re not benching me. No way.” I remember last season Hadley having a similar argument with Wilder about him benching her too. Though, his motives were different.

  He full-blown grins, which erases my humor and his ready-for-TV teeth blind me. “I think I pretty much did just that. It’s how this coaching thing works.” Slacking his triumph some, Wilder nods to the bench in the dugout. “Go.”

  To the right of us, one of his camera guys hangs off to the side, unsure whether to interrupt. There’s not a chance in hell Wilder’s turning his little fantasy show into a reality one, but I’ll throw this guy a bone. “What about Hadley? Your precious Becks. Huh? How come she can’t pitch or play shortstop? We all know you play favorites. Is it because you’d rather someone else take a hit instead? It’s almost like we’re sacrificial lambs at her altar and you’re the madman with the ax enjoying the bloodshed.” The camera hack isn’t filming this, but at least he has something to tell everyone down at the station. It’s not the worst thing they’ve heard about Finn Wilder by far.

  “We’re done here.” His upper lip twitches like he’s holding back, which makes me smile now.

  “What’s going on?” Breathless, Hadley puts a hand on his right arm and her other on my left, as if she’s physically trying to pry us apart.

  I look away from him. She’s prettier anyway. “Your hubby just benched my ass.”

  Her gaze slides to my jeans and I hear Wilder losing his grip. Hadley softly says, “Well, it is hurt.”

  I glare at Hadley, tired of always being a non-ranking fiddle in her orchestra. “Yeah. Take his side just like you always do.” I shrug off her hand and not limping anymore, I grab my glove and bat.

  I hear Val yelling my name while Hadley trails me like flies on shit. “Where’re you going?”

  “Home.”

  “You can’t go!” she pleads while Wilder yells to Grant, asking if he’s ready.

  Wilder then demands, “Becks, get back out there.”

  I head for my truck, and when I think I’m alone, I hear Hadley’s quick breaths as she runs after me. “Rod!”

  Before I reach my truck, she grabs my arm, yanking me to a stop. “Don’t go.”

  I lick my lips and argue, “He benched me, Hadley. Don’t you get it? Don’t you see I’ve been right all this time?”

  “You’re hurt.”

  I laugh, jerking my arm from her grip. “You think that’s what this is about? Right! But don’t stop believing, Journey. Finn Wilder can do no wrong.”

  “How can you say that? You know he has.”

  “Yeah. I do. Wilder’s not perfect.” And I’m nowhere in that vicinity.

  “I never said he was!”

  “Then, will you please believe me when I say your husband fucking hates me and will do anything to keep me away from you?”

  “You helped us.”

  “Tell him that.”

  “Hadley!” I look to see Wilder marching over to us.

  Hadley has yet to acknowledge him, still not averting her gaze from my face. I whisper, “This could go either way for you tonight in the sack. I hear angry sex is hot.” I’m stuck with angry masturbation—the sad counterpart.

  Hadley glares at me through new tears. Reaching us, I step back, and Wilder puts his arm around her, pulling her closer to him than if she were his conjoined twin. When he sees she’s crying, he pulls off his sunglasses and tucks them into his front jeans pocket. His gaze slides to mine as he tells her, “Go back to the field. Val needs you.” Nice. Using one of her weaknesses to get rid of her.

  “But...” Hadley glances at me, wiping her cheeks. “Don’t make him leave.”

  Wilder’s hands go to her face. “Baby, I’m not. If he wants to go, I can’t stop him.”

  “Well, try,” she says through her teeth, which I have to say, is a fucking turn-on.

  I say, “You two need to be at the game. Just go.”

  Wilder lightly grabs her ponytail, dragging his left hand down her hair while swiping a tear on her cheek with his right. He says, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Hadley sighs. When I pointedly look to the field and then back to her, silently telling her to leave, she frowns in return, keeping her eyes on mine, pleading with me to stay.

  When she knows I’m not changing my mind, she finally turns to head back. As she does, Wilder says, “Hey.” She stops, and he grabs her hand, hauling her to him again for an unnecessary and uncharacteristic kiss. Finn Wilder hid Hadley Beckett from his viewers and coworkers for years. He claimed it was to protect his privacy. I never would’ve hidden her.

  When his hands slide around her, grabbing her blue-jeaned ass while sweeping his tongue into her mouth in a disgusting display of his insecurity, I’m sick. Jesus C
hrist. I wonder if his camera crew is getting this shit.

  Hadley breaks their kiss, obvious in her annoyance with Wilder, and then side-eyes me. Holding onto his wrists, she whispers to him and seeing the perfect couple they are, I can’t take it anymore.

  I head to my truck and throw my bat and glove in the bed with an empty, metallic clatter. I’ve only been fall-down drunk a couple times in my life, but there’s always room for improvement. I don’t even know where to start.

  As I open the door, a hand slams it shut. Wilder drops to my side and leans against the door. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands off my wife?” Shit.

  “Which one is she again?” I smirk at his snarled expression.

  “The one you felt up in a parking lot last summer.” And the one I knocked up in a hotel room last fall.

  Stalling and wondering why the hell she told him, I say, “You’re still going to have to narrow it down.” Glaring at me, Wilder crosses his arms, making himself at home against my truck. Asshat. “Did you have your fun, benching me, coach? Is this retribution for what I did with her then?”

  “No.” Liar. “You’re now a liability to the team.”

  “Bullshit. What does that mean? I bruised my ass. I’m a big boy.” He stares at me with cold, dead eyes. “She wasn’t your wife at the time. She wasn’t even your girlfriend anymore. You were broken up.”

  “So you took advantage of Hadley.”

  I’m adamant. “No. I would never do that to her. She needed me. And we...grew closer.”

  Shaking his head, Wilder mockingly laughs. “Yeah. Closer.” His fake smile soon disappears, and his dark eyes appear crazed. “Don’t you think I fucking see that? I don’t want... I can’t...” He trails off, frustrated, gritting his teeth, and looking around. He then aims his ire at me again. “No. Goddamn it. I will not lose her to you.”

  I laugh, pounding my fist on the truck cab, but seeing it’s not a laugh-a-long, it’s cut short. “Jesus! Thanks for the flattery, but me? What the fuck? In case you missed it, I was in third sorry-you-suck place. Even death hasn’t bumped me up to second, so you have nothing to worry about.” I don’t know if that’s good for him or bad for me.

  “You don’t see what I do.”

  “Either you need an eye exam, or I need the shit you’re snorting.”

  “This is all a joke to you? For a year now, I’ve tried to not think about you with Hadley, kissing her, touching her... It’s killing me that you were that close to my wife.”

  “Really? God. Talk about letting it fester. How many times do I have to remind you she wasn’t your wife when we did that? And yes, I care about her. What kind of friend wouldn’t? But how about your time in Baltimore? I heard you handed out your dick as free samples to gain viewership. Way to go, Wilder.”

  Shock is evident before he’s pissed off again. “See? You shouldn’t even know what I did. She shares things with you that should only be hers and mine alone.”

  “She needed someone to talk to.”

  “It’s supposed to be me! I don’t want her telling you shit. But you two...” He shifts, shaking his head at the houses across the street. Wilder’s eyes return to me, angrier. “Why didn’t you? There has to be a reason.”

  “Why didn’t I what?”

  “Fuck her. You want Hadley. I know it. Something doesn’t add up.”

  My jaw scrapes pavement. Even I have more tact than that. I swerve my gaze up and down South Shepherd, checking for bystanders or cameras while Wilder stabs me with a dirty look. We’re at a park. I only care that little kids don’t hear his anger since he’s a supposed role model and they look up to him. Stupid shits.

  When I don’t see anyone watching, I go for a generic reason. “I turned her down because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So yeah. Temporarily, I was in first place.” Wilder’s hardened expression temporarily morphs into a pained one. “Hadley wanted me to hold her. To make the pain go away for a while.” I know how that feels. And then I rejected her anyway.

  “You only got her off in a parking lot. Hadley’s in my bed every night.” Ouch, motherfucker. I want so damn much to tell him that Hadley is also in my bed every night. But he has a right hook that Jared Beckett, his own brother-in-law, could tell horror stories.

  “Remember who put her there, Wilder.” I rest my hand on my truck cab and laugh at his idiocy. “You know, for a guy who got another chance with the woman he shattered twice, you’ve forgotten how your reunion came to be. I’m the one who convinced Hadley to take you back. If I hadn’t dragged your ass to Richmond to fix the shit you should’ve on your own, she would’ve married Dash.” The pained expression flashes across his face, but then it’s gone. “So get the fuck over yourself. Be thankful. You got what you wanted because of me.” Forget the Amazon. I’m the dumbass.

  “I am grateful. But that doesn’t mean you have free rein over her. So don’t pat yourself on the back too hard. You may have relit the fuse for us, but the fire Hadley and I had never left. The first night back together, we couldn’t get enough of each other, and we conceived Finley that night.” Don’t be so sure about that. I got to her first.

  “Spare me the damn details.” But hearing mine would knock you on your ass.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to drill them into your head. I fuck her. Not you. Like this morning. And again later.” He coldly smirks, and I can’t hide the sharp, sudden pain gripping me. “So keep your hands and dick away from my wife. I’m so done having this conversation with you. I’ve warned you three times in the past to back off, but you didn’t listen. Now, Hadley is married to me. Find a single woman to latch onto. I hear Shasta’s single and puts out. Oh, wait...” He laughs, and I’m that 18-year old ridiculed all over again. “Maybe you should forget about dating and focus on seeing your kid first.” Yeah, asshole. I have. Yours.

  “You know what? Fuck off. Your jealousy is insane. I’m not poaching your pussy. I know Hadley’s married to you and I respect that, even if I’ve lost all respect for you. But she’s still my best friend. You can’t change that.”

  “No. I’m Hadley’s best friend. You’re just a coworker she used when I wasn’t there.” That cuts to the raw core. “I thought you were different, too, and that your friendship with Hadley was innocent. But it’s not. It changed. The way you started looking at her... Touching her... Deny it all you want. They’re all lies anyway.” Oh, shit. “I don’t want you friends with her. You won’t take her away from me, Greg Rodwell. It won’t happen. I won’t let it.”

  Blown away, I look to the ground and inhale a deep breath, making sure I’m not having some a dream or hallucination. When I see Wilder’s wide eyes again, it’s apparent I’m not. “Jesus Christ, Finn Wilder. Hadley and I are friends. That’s all we’ll ever be. I think you’re the one who can’t be friends with other women. That insecurity of yours is going to swallow you whole. Like Cara.”

  He pushes off my truck, moving close enough that our hat bills clash. “You’ve stepped over way too many lines with Hadley. It ends now.”

  Turning, Wilder rounds the front of my truck, storming back to the field. Most of my team is on the field, except Amos, who is watching, close enough to have heard every goddamn word.

  Jerking open my driver’s side door, I get in, blowing out the breath I’ve been holding since I left the game. When I see Amos fast approaching, I slam the door, start the engine, and throwing it in gear, I tear out of there.

  It ends now?

  Well, shit.

  Now I’m just getting fucking started.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Did we win?”

  “No. They won by eight. We only had the one point from your home run. And after you and Crick left, the team sort of just fell apart. Did you at least have fun sliding into home?”

  “I fucked up my shoes, but yeah.” I plop down on the couch, switching the phone to my other ear and forgetting about the actual pain in my ass.

  “Your jeans seemed okay.” I’d make a joke about Hadley c
hecking out my ass, but I’m not in the mood for her denial. “Are you going to Brandon’s tonight?”

  “I don’t know, Hadders. I might have to wash my hair.”

  I hear her smile, which makes me smile. “Come on. Finn has to leave the party early since he has to work tonight. I don’t want to be there alone.” Always the backup understudy.

  “You’ll be far from alone. Your kid will be on your teat. Don’t be dramatic.”

  She laughs as I pull off my ruined Gallianos and drop them to the floor with size-12 thuds. “I’m not. It won’t be the same without you. You can’t miss the party.” Why does she care? Is she afraid to be bored?

  “I’ll think about it, but I won’t promise anything.”

  “You have to be there tonight. For me. Please?” Shit. I hate when she begs for the wrong thing.

  “Like I said, I’ll think about it. I gotta go.” I hang up, toss my phone onto the couch, and head into the kitchen. I can’t make any kind of decision on an empty stomach. I want to tell Hadley to kiss my ass, but with the pain shooting up my body, that’d feel good.

  Fuck me. I don’t want to be at Brandon’s, but if I don’t show up, Val will be at my door to drag me by my nuts to the damn thing. She doesn’t need to be in this neighborhood. Or near my nuts.

  I rummage through the fridge, but since I haven’t gone to the store in weeks, the only things I find are two-day-old Chinese takeout, yesterday’s Jew food leftovers, half-eaten Hot Pockets, and ancient shit in a plastic container I’ve been too afraid to open. I guess my appetite isn’t what it used to be. Same could be said for everything in my life.

  After I mix and match some of the leftovers, I shower, jerking a fast one, thinking of holding Hadley in my arms earlier in the dugout. She had to have noticed my hard-on digging into her. Did she even notice I kissed her? It’s not the first time. When Hadley was in the hospital for her anxiety attack, she didn’t catch that one, either. I’ve always been the footnote in tiny print she overlooks.