Commander in Briefs (Commander in Briefs Series Book 1)

by Kristy Marie

  “It can’t be that bad,” I say, turning the corner.

  “Oh, it’s bad. Bellamy was in my face as soon as I got to the stadium, bitching me out about missing batting practice again.”

  “Why did you miss batting practice? Your plane left early enough to make it on time.”

  Theo pauses for a moment before sighing. “I might have passed out when I got home and forgot to set my alarm—”

  “Theo!”

  “And then, since I was late anyway, I stopped for breakfast and a Starbucks coffee.” His tone is amused, as he loves to ruffle feathers wherever he goes.

  “You know better than that. Bellamy just wants to find a reason to kick you off the team.”

  “Bellamy wants to fuck me on all fours but he won’t, Tom won’t hear of it.”

  Tom is the owner of the Washington Nationals. He personally offered Theo the job on the Nationals’ pitching staff when he was merely twenty years old. Even with the forty-year age difference, they are good friends. Thank goodness. Otherwise, I think Theo would have been fired years ago.

  Exhaling into the evening air, I scold, “Theo—”

  “I know, I know. I’ll do better. I promise.”

  Bellamy yells in the background and screams at Theo to get his spoiled, playboy ass out on the field, pronto.

  “I gotta go—” he moans, “—and be Bellamy’s bitch for the next four hours. I hope he’s gentle.”

  He laughs at the last comment and so do I.

  “I’m sure he’ll be sweet.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, becoming serious. “Hey, Ans?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stay with the guys until Cade and Lawson can figure out what’s going on, okay?”

  My voice is a whisper when he reminds me of the situation with Nicole. “I promise.”

  “Good. Daddy loves you. Be a good girl and keep that pussy wet for me until tomorrow.”

  I holler in laughter, his ridiculous comment lightening the mood. “Will do, champ. I love you, too. Knock ‘em dead.”

  Theo hangs up and I toss my phone back in my bag. Where the fuck did I park? It feels like I’ve been walking for miles. Thankfully, my white Audi SUV, parked along the curb, comes into view shortly.

  “Finally! What the hell was I thinking parking out here in Bumfuck?”

  I throw open the driver’s side door, slinging my purchases into the passenger seat, when an eerie sensation tickles the hair on the back of my neck. I turn to take a quick look around, but before I can manage even a glimpse, someone grabs me from behind, his hand covering my mouth.

  I kick out, instinct taking over as my fingers immediately scratch and pull at my captor’s hand, attempting to leverage some distance between us. If I can get free, I can run. He’ll never catch me. My running ability can only be outmatched by one other person. And right now, the thought of never seeing that one person again sends enough fright through my veins that I scream for help through the barrier of this crazy man’s hand.

  “Hel—” My voice is garbled and unrecognizable as the sweaty palm clutches firmer against my pitiful outcry for help. Then to make matters worse, he closes his other hand over my throat and squeezes. With my air supply cut completely off, I panic, thinking of dropping my weight to the ground and throwing him off-balance. But when he squeezes harder, anticipating a struggle, self-preservation kicks in and I stand stock-still, the only other thing I know to do.

  “You tell your friend that if he comes sniffing around my house again I will kill him.”

  Another squeeze, but this time something cold and sharp presses against my throat.

  Does he have a knife? I’m shaking, the adrenaline kicking in. I try to speak around his iron grip, but nothing comes out. I don’t want to die here, not in this abandoned alley that smells of stale cat piss.

  “And then, I think I’ll take you. I could find plenty of buyers for a feisty little piece like you.” His tongue snakes out, licking my cheek.

  I feel violated. Dirty. And mostly, I feel terrified.

  “I promise,” I gasp for breath beneath his hold. “We won’t bother you.”

  Laughter sounds from behind me and I think of trying to scream for help again but when the cold blade bears down on my skin, I quickly decide against it. Lou (I’m taking a guess here, I haven’t sniffed around many properties here lately), shoves my face into the hood, grabbing my pussy in a bruising hold. “I’ll be back for you, bitch,” he growls right before he slashes my front tire, and flees behind a building.

  I stay that way, face smashed against the hood, tears streaming down my face, reeling from the aftermath of what just happened. I don’t know how I’m going to get home. My tire is hissing as it expels the last bit of air. I don’t even know how to change of fucking tire. I’ve never had to.

  The realization that I am not prepared for real life events is so overwhelming that I begin to cry. For the first time in my life I was held at knifepoint and I didn’t do anything heroic. I didn’t flip him over my shoulder or knee him in the balls. No, I stood there, shivering like a coward, my tears running down the hand that was choking the very life from me.

  I am one of those women. A sheltered, spoiled woman who relies on a man for security. Pulling upright, I wipe the tears from my face, mascara smearing onto my fingers.

  “I can change a tire. If Theo can do it, it can’t be that hard.”

  I root through the back, determined to do something, finding the spare and some crowbar-looking thing attached to what I think is probably the jack. I pry it off and attempt to dislodge the spare, which proves rather difficult and I only manage to break a nail.

  I want Theo. Just the sound of his voice would calm me but he’s on the field and won’t have his phone. And what could he do? Worry. Worry, is what he would do. And be helpless to do anything about it. I won’t let myself call his phone just to hear his asshole voicemail greeting, “This is Theo. Don’t leave a message, I won’t check it.”

  I’m just gonna call Cade to come get me. I tried to change the tire and I couldn’t. There’s no shame in that. Before I can talk myself into trying again, I call Cade, sniffling a little as it rings. And rings. And rings some more until finally his voicemail comes on.

  “Gorgeous. I…uh…need your help. My tire is flat and I can’t change it myself. Okay, so… call me back.”

  After a few minutes and no return call, I decide I’m done waiting for someone to rescue me. I’m my own motherfucking hero! I’m getting the fuck out of here one way or another. I lock up my car and inhale a deep breath, digging deep for my buried courage. It’s only five miles to the plantation. I can trek through the woods and get there faster. Lou is probably long gone by now anyway. He won’t show again until Lawson or Cade give him a reason to.

  Silent tears glide down my cheeks as I take the first steps toward home. Toward safety. My knees buckle a few times but I power through, swiping at the errant tears, squaring my shoulders, my ears peeled for anything that would signal Lou is following me.

  “Don’t be a pussy, Anniston,” I tell myself in the worst pep talk voice ever.

  But I am a pussy. For once, I crave comfort. I crave one of my guys. Their voices. Their strength. Anything to take away the fear Lou just created.

  Thor.

  Thor’s a hero. And he always answers his phone.

  Dialing his number, I instantly feel better.

  “Dr. McCallister,” he drawls out lazily.

  Relief crashes over me as the sound of his voice soothes my fears.

  “Hey, Thor.” My voice is over the top squeaky with fake cheeriness. “How’s the security team?”

  He grunts on the other end of the phone, his way of laughing. “Well, they might be fantastic if I actually cared enough to ask.”

  I chuckle, “Wonderful. I like to hear that the wellbeing of Theo’s staff is intact and not in need of therapy.”

  “What’s wrong, Anniston?”

  No bullshit. No beating around th
e bush. That’s the Thor I’ve grown to annoy.

  I debate on just hanging up and sprinting the rest of the way. I’m still probably three miles from the plantation but if I run, I could be there in thirty-ish minutes or less. I could make it. Thor would be none the wiser and I could threaten Cade into not telling Theo. Problem solved. But when I cut through a sketchy backyard, I rethink it, deciding I would rather the guys find my body and bury me properly.

  “Oh, nothing. Just taking a stroll. Thought I’d check in and shoot the shit with you for a little while.”

  “We never talk.”

  “Yeah, well we should,” I tease, dragging out my confession.

  His voice softens as he tries extracting the truth from me once more. “Tell me what’s wrong, Anniston.”

  I sigh, this is it. Theo is going to hit the motherfucking fan. “Oh, nothing bad. Just some crazy held me at knifepoint, threatened me, and then slit my tire, which I have no idea how to change, by the way. So, I’m walking home from the farmers market and could use a familiar voice to keep me company.”

  “Where’s Cade?” he questions on a growl.

  “He’s at the house dealing with a problem.”

  “Why didn’t you call one of the others?”

  “They’re busy, too. Can I not talk to you?” I snap, and regret it immediately. I’m being petty and snapping at Thor when I really should be snapping at myself. I can’t even change my own damn tire.

  “I mean, couldn’t one of them come to pick you up,” he tries again, this time with a lot less attitude.

  “I tried Cade, he didn’t answer.”

  Thor makes a sound deep in his throat that sounds much like disbelief. “Theo is going to go ballistic.”

  “And you’re not going to tell him. Promise?” He goes to argue and I cut him off. “Promise,” I demand, my voice catching. “He doesn’t need to worry about this right now during the All-Star voting.”

  Thor sighs. “Okay, but if he finds out on his own, I’ll throw you under the bus in a heartbeat.”

  “Deal,” I compromise, a smile forming on my face for the first time since Lou grabbed me.

  “Let me try and call Cade again?” he asks softly.

  “No, I’m almost home. Just keep talking to me?”

  His quick intake of breath tells me I’ve shocked him with this question.

  “Okay,” he agrees.

  The rest of the walk home, I’m entertained by Thor’s dry humor. Except for the occasional f-bomb and threats about when Theo finds out about this, the conversation is rather delightful.

  Until…

  Tires spin gravel into the air, dust flying in my nose and mouth. I’m coughing, shielding my face from the worst dust tornado ever experienced in Georgia, when I hear, “You have two seconds to get your ass in this fucking truck before I lose the last bit of self-control I have.”

  Cade is hanging out the driver’s window, his face blazing with white-hot fury. Brows pinched, hands gripping the steering wheel like he could rip it off the column without a second thought.

  Fucking Thor. “You told.” My accusation hangs in the air, daring him to deny it.

  After a brief pause, he admits, “I had to. I just want you safe.”

  I should’ve known. Thor may talk smack and cut up with me but he’ll always be a protector first and foremost. “Thanks, Thor. I really appreciate it. Now I have to calm Cade down.” My thanks is sincere but the rest of it…yeah, that’s aggravation and exhaustion speaking.

  “Cade is the least of your worries.”

  Right, if he told Cade, he’ll most definitely tell Theo.

  “I take it back, we should never talk. In fact, I hope Theo gives you hell tonight.” I’m only half joking. I really do hope Theo drives him fucking crazy. That sweet asshole told on me before I could gently ease Cade into the story. Ugh.

  Thor laughs softly into the phone, “I’m sure he will. Be safe, Anniston.”

  “Anniston!” Cade is out of the truck, barreling toward me.

  “Bye, Thor,” I end quickly, meeting Cade halfway between his truck and the dirt road. “Hi, Gorgeous.” My voice is fake cheery as I reach for the hulk of man that looks like he’s ready to shake me, toss me over his shoulder and spank my ass all the way home. But this is Cade we’re talking about, not Theo.

  Cade stops in front of me, his hands fisted by his sides, jaw ticking with unbridled rage. “Don’t talk,” he growls, snatching the plastic bag off my arm. “Just tell me one thing…Was it Lou?”

  My usual playful attitude is gone as the gravity of the situation pushes down on my shoulders. All at once, holding Cade’s brilliant green eyes, I want to cry. I don’t want him to be mad at me. I want him to comfort me, to tell me I’m okay. For some unknown reason, I don’t want to be the strong one right now.

  Tears well in my eyes. “I can’t be sure. I’ve never seen him before and he was behind me the whole time so I didn’t get a good look—”

  Cade scoops me up like a baby, tossing down my bag, cradling me to his heaving chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He starts walking us toward the truck.

  “My bag,” I look back at it lying on the ground.

  “Hayes will get it,” he returns, never slowing down.

  I didn’t even realize Hayes was here but when we near the idling truck, Hayes jumps out, coming to me. “You okay, Commander?”

  I sniffle, unable to look at his concerned face or I’ll start to cry all over again. I bury my face into Cade’s chest.

  “Go get her bag.” Cade’s voiced is laced with so much venom that I doubt Hayes hesitated to go grab it. Cade is scary when he’s pissed. I’ve never seen him behave like this before. And that’s saying something with all the times Theo pissed him off.

  The driver’s door is still open from his sudden exit and very gently Cade puts me down on the soft cloth seat. “Scoot to the middle,” he orders quietly, sliding in behind me. Hayes returns, my bag in hand and files in on the other side just before Cade guns it down the dirt road, headed home.

  “Never again,” he growls, punching the steering wheel and causing the horn to blow, startling me. “This will never happen to you again.”

  Neither me or Hayes comment. Instead, I ease my hand into Cade’s, interlacing our fingers, offering silent comfort.

  By the time my plane lands, I have worked myself into a rage. A motherfucking rage. I am a hair’s breadth away from attacking the next poor soul who dares to look in my general vicinity.

  Why am I in this mood, you ask? Cade. The asshole who is like a STD I can’t get rid of. I’ll comfort her, he said. All night long… That one comment did it. All the promises I made to Anniston about attempting to be friends with Cade have gone completely out the window. This is fucking war!

  I killed it out on the field. A shutout. I only saw his face. I imagined him smirking at me as he slid Ans between his legs, rubbing out the kinks in her neck from the long walk from the farmer’s market. I saw Lou, the old fucker, with a knife to her throat, grabbing her—I can’t even think about it without contemplating murder.

  No, I was a hostage in that ballpark, helpless to get my best friend of fifteen fucking years. So, I did the only thing I could: I slung that ball with every ounce of rage I could muster. At one point, Brody, my catcher, told me to tone it down, his hand was starting to bruise underneath the glove. I didn’t. I threw strike after strike, imagining it was Lou’s face I was hitting every time the ball slapped into the catcher’s glove. After the game, I packed my shit without a word and called the car service. Bellamy screamed something at me about a suspension. Good. I fucking need a vacation from this bullshit.

  The fact that some asshole had his hands around my girl’s neck and neither Cade or I were there to protect her…yeah, I’m done. Fuck baseball. Fuck Bellamy. And fuck Jameson’s sorry ass, too! I’m getting my girl the fuck away from those vets who have been nothing more than a constant pain in my ass since their arrival.

  Exhaus
ted, I flop down into the cab ungracefully, knocking my elbow in the process. “Dammit!” The cab driver looks back warily but quickly turns back around when he sees my scowl. Relax, Theo. She’s fine. Everything is fine.

  But it almost wasn’t. She could’ve been killed. Taken, for fuck’s sake!

  Legs bouncing in harmony with my hands, my ADHD in overdrive, I try taking a couple of deep breaths to calm down. It’s not helping. I need to get out of this car and stretch. To run. To beat Grandpa to a bloody-ass pulp. I’ll even throw in a punch to Cade. Isn’t he supposed to be some badass marine? Where the fuck were those skills last night? Huh?

  “We’re here, sir.”

  Thank fuck. I didn’t even notice. That’s how fucked up my head is right now.

  I grab my bag, thanking the driver. I’m not a complete ass.

  Marching up the creaking front porch steps, I’m met with the great wall of asshole. Cade. He’s leaning against the doorframe with a confident grin on his face. A grin I plan on knocking off in, three… two…

  “Theo,” he drawls.

  “Get out of my way. I am a second from beating the shit out of you.” I try and push through the door, done with this asshole. He doesn’t budge. Dammit. What the fuck has Ans been feeding him? He’s like fucking concrete.

  Taking a step back, I lock eyes with the dumbass. “Move.”

  He smiles. Again.

  Deep breaths, Theo. In and out. Slow and steady.

  Just as I prepare myself to plow over this beast, Hayes saunters up. “My man!”

  Ha. Fuck you, Cade.

  Cade moves over, not wanting Hayes to see our little squabble. I flick Cade off, not giving a damn if Hayes knows we are fighting or not, and step through the doorway. “Hey man.” I greet Hayes with a man hug. “Good to see you.”

  “Man! That game was sick!” he crows animatedly.

  I smile, soaking in his compliment. Too bad I was barely conscious of it. Moving through the house, Hayes is at my heels prattling on about my stats that I could care less about. There is no sign of Anniston. Stopping Hayes mid-sentence, I ask, “Hey man, where’s Ans? I want to check on her.”