Play Hard (Make the Play #2)

by Amber Garza

  “Taylor, I know this is all hard for you. But I think what you’re doing is so brave, and so selfless. And one day your baby is going to thank you for it,” Aunt Molly says. “But since he or she can’t do that yet, I will say thank you. You’re giving your uncle and I, and your baby, an incredible gift.”

  It’s all too much. I can’t take anymore mushy talk tonight. Standing, I wave away her words. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t need any thank yous or anything. I’m doing what I have to do.”

  Aunt Molly stands too, her face sober. “Of course. I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”

  Now I feel like a jerk. “You didn’t. I think I’m just emotionally exhausted at this point.”

  “Me too.” She pauses, bringing her hands in close to her chest. “Wanna go inside?”

  I inhale the air that is cooling down. It smells like damp earth and fresh air. “You go ahead. I need a minute,” I say.

  “Okay.” She smiles. “Good night,” she says before slipping inside.

  Once she’s gone, I stand at the railing of the porch and take a few deep breaths. A gust of wind kicks up, and my hair goes flying. Reaching up, I tuck it behind my ear. When I do, my finger catches on my earring and it drops from my ear into the dirt below. Squinting, I find it glinting in the moonlight, lying next to the rose bushes that line the porch. As the breeze continues, I get a whiff of their sweet scent. Shivering, I move away from the railing and toward the porch steps.

  As I barrel down them, they creak and moan. It’s sort of creepy in the dark all alone, and a chill skitters down my spine. I hurry toward where I saw the earring and bend down to retrieve it. As my fingers close around it, I see something move out of the corner of my eye.

  The hair on my neck prickles. A sound like a twig breaking startles me. Clutching the earring, I stand back up and glance around the property. When I don’t see anything, I chastise myself. It’s probably just an animal.

  I wonder what kinds of animals live out here in this rural area. Back home I’ve only seen dogs and cats, but I’m sure there are wild animals out here. The thought makes my skin crawl. I’ve never been around wild animals. Not only do we live in the city, but we’ve never even gone camping. My mom prefers hotels, and I’ve always been grateful for that. Vacationing by sleeping in a tent outside has never appealed to me. But it also means I’m thoroughly unprepared for what to do in situations like this. Luckily, I’m closer to the house than the animal is, though, and hiding is something I know how to do.

  Before turning around to head inside, I scan the field again. Still nothing. I’ve heard people say that animals are more afraid of you than you are of them. I’ve never wanted to test that theory before, but perhaps it’s true.

  Tired, I spin around, grabbing the railing and preparing to walk back up to the house.

  “Taylor,” a familiar male voice stops me mid-step. My shoulders tighten, and my back goes rigid. Heart pounding, I don’t dare turn around. Keeping my gaze trained on the front door, I try to imagine reaching it. Tentatively, I place my foot on the bottom step. Perhaps if I move swiftly enough I can make it inside before he reaches me. “I’ve come all this way. You think I’m going to let you walk away from me? C’mon, you know me better than that, baby.”

  It’s the voice that used to make my heart flutter. Used to make me weak in the knees. Now it turns my stomach. Knowing he’s right, I pivot on my heels. Facing him, I hold my head high, not wanting him to see the fear in my eyes. “What do you want, Dusty?”

  He swaggers in my direction, and my palms fill with moisture. “We haven’t seen each other in months, and this is how you greet me.” A sick smile spreads across his face. “I think you can do better than that.”

  The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats. I worry that I’m dangerously close to having a heart attack by the time he’s inches from me. When I back up, his arms shoot out, his hands circling my wrists. A sharp squeal escapes from my lips, and he shakes me. “Quiet,” he demands.

  His demand is meant to frighten me, but instead it gives me courage. “Scared my aunt and uncle might hear, Dusty? Keep touching me and I’ll scream as loud as I can. Then they’ll for sure hear me.”

  I expect him to back off, but his eyes darken. “Yeah, Tay, I’m scared. I’m scared of your preacher uncle and his barren wife.” My face pales. Apparently he’s done his homework. “What do you think will happen if he comes out here? Think he’ll try to convert me? Maybe say a prayer or two?” He tugs me closer to him. “Meanwhile, I’m the one closest to the baby they want.” His gaze lowers to my stomach. I wriggle out of his grasp, feeling exposed. “One strategic punch and that thing is history.”

  Bile rises in my throat. I always knew Dusty was an ass, but this is going too far. “You’d hurt your own baby?” I’m appalled.

  “Oh, so now it’s mine, huh? I thought it was their baby now.” He points at the house.

  My head spins. “Who told you all this?”

  “You know what your problem is, Tay? You’ve always underestimated me,” Dusty growls. “You’ve been living here all happy and carefree. You’ve even got some dumbass boyfriend. And you had no idea that all the while I’ve been watching.”

  I freeze, a shudder rippling down my spine. “Watching? How?”

  “Oh, come on. I knew your aunt and uncle lived in Prairie Creek. You told me so yourself. And where else would your parents send you?”

  He’s known this whole time? I feel like I’m going to be sick. My mouth fills with moisture, and I bend over.

  Dusty forcefully draws me into his chest. “Hey, I know that you lost your little jock you were fooling around with, but don’t worry, I’ll take you back.” His arms encase me. It doesn’t feel like a hug. It feels like a prison.

  The thought sickens me, and the fact that he says it like he’d be doing me a favor is laughable. But not surprising. His ego has always been too big for his own good. Anger rises in me, and I shove him back as hard as I can. He teeters on the balls of his feet, losing his balance momentarily. But it’s enough to cut me loose, and I take off running toward the house. But I’m not fast enough. He lunges at me, his fingers closing around my wrist. From the corner of my eye, I see yellow lights. I hear a car on the gravel, and hope sparks.

  “Ah, look who’s back. It’s your jock.” Dusty sounds too happy to see Cal again, and my stomach sours.

  A few minutes ago I wanted nothing more than for Cal to come back, but now I wish he’d stayed away. I don’t want him involved in this. I don’t want anyone involved in this. It’s my problem. I’m the one who brought Dusty into my life. I’m the one who started this. My gaze flickers to the house, all the windows dark, and I silently pray that my aunt and uncle don’t wake up. I should want them to. I should want to be rescued, but I don’t. I want to face this on my own. My mind travels back to my conversation with Aunt Molly tonight. I recall her candor, her emotion about the baby. Dusty wouldn’t think twice about hurting the baby, and I can’t do that to Aunt Molly. She wants this baby more than I can even understand, and I can’t let him take that away from her.

  Regardless of what I have to do, I will keep this baby safe.

  Cal

  He’s touching her.

  That’s the first thing I notice, and it makes my blood boil. Slamming on my brakes, my tires skid in the rocks and gravel. A plume of dirt swirls. With shaking fingers I undo my seatbelt and tear out of the car.

  “Get your hands off of her!” I shout, stomping up the driveway.

  “Check out this clown,” Dusty says in Taylor’s direction, as if he thinks I’m a joke. Taylor stands by his side, unmoving, as if paralyzed. It’s like she’s back under his control, and it concerns me.

  “I mean it. Let her go!” I repeat.

  “I don’t take orders from you,” he snarls, yanking Taylor closer to him. Fear fills her face.

  “It’s okay, Taylor. I’m here,” I whisper encouragement toward her, needing her to believe in me. But it’s like s
he doesn’t register the words. Her gaze remains unfocused, fuzzy, as if she’s not even inside. As if she’s a million miles away. My insides knot.

  Dusty snorts. “Is this guy for real?”

  “C’mon, Dusty.” Taylor turns to him, her eyes pleading with his. Then she does the unthinkable. She touches his arm gently. The way you’d touch a boyfriend. The way she’s touched me. “Let’s just get outta here. Don’t worry about him.”

  What the hell is she doing?

  “Hear that, lover boy,” Dusty says to me. “Guess she’s ready to go back to a real man.”

  Does she want him back? My chest tightens. No, that can’t be. I stare at her, trying to catch her eye. When I finally do, I see the resolve deep inside, and I know what she’s doing. She’s sacrificing herself.

  He must have threatened her. Her free arm lowers, her hand splaying over her stomach. It’s like someone punched me in the gut.

  He didn’t threaten her. He threatened the baby.

  Bastard.

  Regardless, she’s not playing the martyr today. Not on my watch.

  Using the element of surprise, I leap toward Dusty while his attention is focused on Taylor. Before he can react, I shove him backwards. His fingers open, releasing Taylor. She wobbles a little, but stays upright.

  “Taylor, get outta here!” I demand, but she doesn’t move. Standing between her and Dusty, I hold my arm out to shield her from him. “Taylor,” I hiss. “I mean it. Go!”

  Dusty lets out an amused chuckle. “Apparently she doesn’t take orders from you either.”

  “She doesn’t take orders from anyone!” I snap back. “And I’m not ordering her,” I say for her benefit. “I’m asking her. Please, Taylor.”

  “I won’t leave you,” she whispers.

  My head snaps back, pain shooting through my face. Taylor screams. Stars fill my vision. I blink furiously and fight to regain my composure when I’m struck again. Son of a bitch. Staggering backward, I wipe my hand down my face. Dark, sticky blood coats my palms. Ah, hell no. Another hit.

  “I told you that night in town that if you were lying to me, you’d pay,” Dusty snarls. “I guess today is that day.”

  “Dusty, stop!” Taylor yells. “Please, don’t.”

  I hate that she’s pleading with this asshole for me. Forcing myself to get it together, I wipe my eyes and open them wide. To my horror, Taylor rushes him. What is she doing? He shoves her and she falls limply to the ground.

  Anger pulsates through me, and I throw my body forward. Using all my strength, I pummel him until his body hits the ground.

  “You’re gonna regret touching her!” I say, straddling him and slamming my fist into his face. Blood spurts. I’m about to hit him again, when a voice stops me.

  “That’s enough!” Alex stands over us, pointing a gun at Dusty.

  Taylor scrambles off the ground appearing as shocked as I am. Who knew the pastor was packing?

  “Get up, Cal,” he commands, and I hoist myself off of Dusty. “You,” he says to Dusty. “You stay put.”

  “You won’t shoot me,” Dusty says, but he doesn’t sound entirely sure.

  “Try me,” Alex says in a dark tone.

  Personally, I don’t think I’d chance it. Dusty stays put so he must be thinking the same thing.

  “Cal, Taylor, get inside and get cleaned up,” he says to us. Sirens sound in the distance. “As soon as the police arrive, we’ll get you two to the hospital.” His gun stays trained on Dusty who groans from where he lay on the ground.

  I walk over to Taylor and gather her in my arms. “You okay?”

  Her gaze falls on my face, her eyes widening. “What about you? You’re the one bleeding.” Lifting her hand, she touches my eye. It hurts, and I wince. She pulls her hand back, blood coating her fingertips.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “I’m more worried about you. Are you all right?”

  “I’m not sure.” Her clean hand rubs over her stomach. “I fell on my stomach, I think.”

  Panic sweeps over me, but I’m determined to stay strong for her. Drawing her close, I hold her tightly. “It’s going to be okay.” I pray that I’m not lying.

  Taylor

  Longest. Night. Ever.

  After being questioned by the police and examined by a doctor, I’m ready to go home, take a shower, and hop into bed. Maybe stay there until I’m eighty. I walk in front of Aunt Molly and Uncle Alex as we head down the hospital hallway. The sterile smell is making my stomach curl. Then again, a lot of things do that during this pregnancy.

  When we reach the end of the hallway, we turn a corner, and I freeze, inhaling sharply. Cal stands a few feet in front of me talking to his parents. With a bandage over his eye and bruises painting his face, he appears vulnerable and childlike. Nothing like the strong, courageous boy he was in my front yard.

  “We’ll give you two a few minutes,” Aunt Molly says, swiftly touching my shoulder.

  “Thanks.” I step away from my aunt and uncle and move closer to where Cal is standing. My gaze flickers over to his parents, and my insides coil. I’m sure they blame me for all of this, and I guess it is my fault. He walks up to me, his gaze traveling up my body.

  “They’re letting you leave already?” His expression is one of grave concern.

  I nod. “Doctor says I’m fine.”

  “And the baby?”

  “Baby is fine too.”

  “Thank god.” He blows out a ragged breath.

  My gaze flickers to his bruises. Reaching up, I tentatively trace them with my fingertips. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine too. Nothing a little ice won’t fix.”

  I’m skeptical. “What about your eye?”

  “Just a few stitches. No biggie.” He’s being so nonchalant, but I was there. I saw how hard Dusty hit him. I saw all the blood.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe deeply. “I was so scared, Cal.”

  “I wasn’t going to let him hurt you or the baby.”

  My eyelids flip open. “No, I mean I was scared for you. When Dusty hit you I lost my mind. I can’t stand the thought that you were hurt because of me.”

  “Hey.” Lifting his hand, his knuckles graze my cheek. “I’m fine.” He tips my chin. “Look.”

  I stare at his face – at his piercing eyes, strong jaw and tousled hair. “Yes, you look fine.”

  “Just fine, huh?”

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “No, you look good.”

  A grin spreads across his face, his eyes sparkling. It reminds me of how things were before tonight, before he found out my secret, and before Dusty showed up and attacked us. My lips curl downward, the magnitude of the situation crashing into me.

  “What about baseball?” I ask.

  “What about it?”

  “Can you play? I mean, your season’s almost over, and--” Panic creeps up into my chest, and I’m struggling to stay calm.

  “Relax. I can play. It’s nothing but a few stitches on my eye and some bruised knuckles.”

  I breathe out, feeling only slight relief. “Cal, I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “But I do,” I say. “About so many things. I wish we could start over and I could be honest from the beginning. Maybe if you had known everything from the start--”

  “I wouldn’t have done anything differently,” he cuts me off.

  “What?”

  “I don’t regret anything between us. I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I did. When I left your house it wasn’t because I was upset with you. Honestly, it was because I was upset with him. I couldn’t get the image of what he’d done to you out of my head.” Stepping closer to me, he hooks his hands around my waist. “The idea of anyone laying a hand on you is too much to take. But I shouldn’t have walked away. I shouldn’t have left you alone. It was wrong, and if I could do it over I would stay.”

  Cal blows me away time and time again. Never before has anyone said these kinds of thin
gs to me. “I understand why you left, Cal, and it’s okay. You might not have stayed, but you came back, and that means everything to me.”

  “I’m staying now, Taylor. I promise.”

  “All of this isn’t scaring you away?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Well, I think the worst is behind us anyway.”

  “You think Dusty will leave you alone now?”

  “He has no choice. He can’t get to me if he’s locked up,” I say. “Apparently, since I left town he’s gotten involved in drug dealing, so there was a warrant out for his arrest. I don’t think he’s getting out for awhile.”

  “I’m glad that he can’t get to you anymore,” Cal says.

  “Me too.” I smile, my chest expanding as the realization of what I said hits me. Dusty isn’t a threat to me anymore. It’s a great feeling.

  Leaning down, Cal’s face nuzzles mine. “Do you think your aunt and uncle will hate me if I kiss you right now?” His breath is warm against my skin. Until now I hadn’t given our families a second thought. Glancing over, I see the four of them huddled together talking. They don’t even notice us at all. Not that I would have cared if they did. Honestly, I’d give anything to feel Cal’s lips on mine right now. The mere thought of it causes my chest to ache.

  “I don’t know about my family, but I think I’ll be pretty disappointed if you don’t.”

  “It’s settled then.” His lips brush mine. Once. Twice. Light, like a whisper. Then his mouth is on mine again. Only this time he exerts more pressure, first on the top and then on the bottom. His lips move softly, and as badly as I want to speed things up, I also want to take things slow. Mostly because I don’t know how much pain he’s in. His hands slide around my waist until his fingers meet. They are warm and soft on my back. Sliding my hands up his muscular chest, I curve them around his broad shoulders and then loop them around his neck. Our chests press together, our heartbeats mingling.

  His lips part momentarily and his tongue slips through my lips and glides into my mouth. I moan, and he clutches me tighter. Pain jabs me in the gut when Cal’s arm touches the spot where I fell. A surprised sound comes out of my mouth, and Cal draws back.