by Kristy Marie
Right. The sheriff. Lou, aka a dead man who put a knife to Anniston’s throat and threatened to take her.
My spine straightens in a defensive posture. “From what he can tell, Lawson’s claim that the sheriff is dirty is accurate. He hasn’t found a whole lot since the sheriff seems to be covering his tracks rather well.”
“Sounds like you got a bad PI, Jameson.”
Blood pounds in my ears as I pull to stop, rounding on Theo. “Do not start this morning. If you think you can do better at finding intel on this asshole then by all means go right ahead. Otherwise, shut the fuck up!”
A grin pulls at Theo’s mouth before he fishes in his shorts pocket and pops a piece of gum in his mouth. “Someone’s on the rag.”
Don’t hit him, Cade. Anniston will be highly upset. She’s still babying the hell out of him from his appendectomy surgery.
Inhaling a deep breath, I start walking again. “There was a note in our mailbox yesterday.”
Theo snaps around, his face suddenly serious. “What did it say?”
I pause. I’m not sure if I want to tell him. He will go ballistic. I did. Fuck, all of us did but we kept Anniston in the dark. We didn’t want to scare her.
“Well, it wasn’t a note exactly—”
“Jameson!”
“Calm the fuck down. I mean it, Theo. What I am about to tell you is most definitely going to upset you but I need you to act normal, especially with Anniston, until we get to the bottom of it.”
His chewing could almost be classified as violent. “Fine. Tell me. I’m calm.”
He’s not calm, the steady shake of his hand as he starts to pace in front of me gives it away. But he needs to know.
“It was a picture of Anniston sunbathing by the pond, right before the All-Star game.”
True to his word, Theo remains calm. He doesn’t speak or even look at me. If it weren’t for the heaving breaths and the steady tick of his jaw, I would think he didn’t hear me.
Under the sunlight, in what I thought was the safest place on Earth, Theo and I stare across the open hayfields, our eyes landing on the coveted landmark. The pond. Lou managed to breach our home base. He’s making a point that he can get to her with no problem. He knows taking her will end us once and for all.
Worry settles over us like a blanket of despair. Finally, Theo yanks at his hair, no longer able to hold it in and lets out a frustrated breath. I face him, prepared for some comment about how I let this happen, but instead, his eyes lock on mine, his face hard and serious. “How do we kill this asshole?”
Well, I’ll be damned. Now we’re talking! We move a little farther away from the house, toward the pond. “I have an old friend in the FBI that I’m trying to reach. He’s ex-military, served together when I first enlisted. I haven’t spoken to him in years but if he could get some guys on the case, they could catch this motherfucker and get Nicole out. We could stop sniffing around Lou and let the FBI take over. All we would need to do is keep Anniston safe until then.”
Theo nods, his eyes squint and he begins to crack his knuckles. “What about Lawson? Do you think he’ll go along with this plan?”
No. But I don’t tell that to Theo. God only knows what he may do to Lawson in Anniston’s defense. Instead, I go with, “I’ll convince him.”
“What’s your plan to keep Ans safe?” His fingers go to his lip as he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Do you want to run?” I ask him, not pointing out that he’s seconds from bouncing out of his shoes. I have become better at reading his ADHD. Anniston says he will start to fidget before he grows more anxious. The last thing we need today is to explain to her why he’s so anxious.
Theo ponders my question a minute before giving me a terse chin lift. “Yeah. A run would be good.”
I start out jogging slow, allowing Theo to dictate the pace. I should have known he would need to go full blast. I struggle to keep up as he darts behind the barn, running as if the devil himself is behind him. I fall back, it’s apparent his cardio stamina is much more advanced than mine. He’ll circle back once he tires out.
Like I predicted, ten minutes later, flushed and clad only in his shorts, he trots back toward me with a somber expression.
“You good?” I try not to make it a big deal of it. We all have demons and I know firsthand how embarrassing it feels for someone, especially a threat, to witness it.
He exhales a shaky breath. “Yeah. I’m good.”
With a clap on his shoulder, we start walking again.
I pick up right where we left off. “I asked Hayes to set up security cameras around the perimeter and inside the house. No one will get to her here. Ever, again.”
“And if he does come back around here taking fucking pictures or worse?” he asks, his eyes pinched worriedly at the corners.
“Well, then we’ll defend our home. At least we will be better prepared and more vigilant over security now that we know he knows where we live and is watching us.”
Theo’s lips purse in agreement but it’s apparent that worry still clouds his every thought. Mine, too, but we have to be smart about this. Lou isn’t an idiot, and with the sheriff in his pocket, I worry he may make trouble for us. Especially because Hayes already has a criminal record.
“Try not to worry. I’ll never let anything happen to her.” My promise does nothing to stop the lip biting he has going on but it’s the truth. I’ll never let Lou get close to her again. That’s a fucking fact.
“What if I send Thor down to keep an extra eye on her?”
I’m already shaking my head before Theo can finish his sentence. “He’ll just be in the way. The guys and I can protect her. Once I can get ahold of my guy and the FBI get involved, then it won’t be long before they can take Lou down.” I release a frustrated sigh at having to not only convince Theo of this plan but Lawson as well. Sliding down into a crouch, my fucking legs ache from all the running I’ve been doing as of late. Theo isn’t the only one who’s been worried sick.
Flashes of a bloodied Commander taunt me as I try to concentrate on a strategy that will work for all of us. Knowing Theo, he will fake an injury of some sort and stay here, which will alarm Ans. I have to think of a way to keep him content with her safety and at work.
“I’ll take her with me,” he says, already nodding his head in approval.
My eyebrows raise. “With you where?”
“Back to Washington. I’m due back Friday. We can stay for the weekend, give you guys time to alert the FBI and or kill this son of a bitch. Money can buy silence and acid to get rid of the remains. Just text me, ‘The dick is down’ and I’ll know to let my guy know we need some science experiment materials for the hospital.” He gives me a wink that I’m not so sure is a joke.
“Sometimes, Theo, you scare me.”
He grins, completely proud that he has skills that can help contribute to Lou’s murder should we be so inclined to off him while he throws a no-hitter over the weekend. The comment is so insane that I can’t do anything but blink as he chuckles, popping another piece of gum in his mouth.
“So, whadda ya say? You cool with me taking her to Washington?”
As much as I would like to argue and keep her with me, I think he’s right. She’ll be safer with him in Washington. “Will Thor be there to watch over her when you’re on the field?”
He nods, not paying attention anymore. I guess there isn’t anything more to discuss. We have a plan. He’ll keep her safe and we’ll contact the FBI and… well, I don’t know what we’ll do after that. Murdering Lou does sound like a solid idea, but I’ll sleep on it and see how I feel tomorrow. I’m joking. Kind of.
“Fine,” I agree, taking a step back. “I’m going to head back to the house. I have a bone to pick with Anniston about this dog bullshit. How exactly did y’all manage to get it, again?”
Theo backs away with a mischievous smile. “Gotta go, Major Douche, I need to be ready for my game.”
He sprints off with a laugh a
s I fight the urge to go after him.
One good hit. That’s all it would take.
The house is buzzing with noise when I return.
“Sit, Killer. Good, girl!” Anniston and Mason are sitting Indian style on the rug, Killer poised in front of them. Anniston is giving the orders. “Now, speak.”
Immediately, ferocious barks ring out.
“Good girl!”
I grab a seat in the nearby recliner, watching in awe as she commands yet another being in this house.
“Commander!” Hayes comes down the stairs two at a time, excitement in his eyes. “Commander, I need the car.”
Anniston and I both glare at him suspiciously. Last time he used the car, we found cum on the seats. Yes, you read correctly. Cum. His ass was scrubbing that shit off with his toothbrush.
“For what, Sergeant Hayes?” Anniston scratches behind Killer’s ears as she waits for an answer.
“Uh…” Hayes looks at me and when he sees I’m leery as well, he turns and levels Anniston with a serious face. “It’s that time of the month, ma’am.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“Attack,” she commands loudly.
Before I can wrap my head around what’s going on, Killer launches at Hayes, knocking him to the ground. He grunts, raising his arms to protect his face.
“Heel.” Killer immediately releases at Mason’s command.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” I look at Anniston and realize she’s talking to me.
“Have you lost your mind? She could have killed him!” I’m on my feet and to Hayes’ side, helping him off the floor.
Anniston and Mason begin to laugh. Loudly.
“Don’t be a party pooper, Cade. I wouldn’t have let her bite him,” she tsks, frowning at my seriousness of the situation.
I look at Hayes, his face is pasty white. “You all right?”
He nods and then grins. “Does this mean I can use the car?”
I push Hayes away, annoyed with this whole shit show. Anniston is wiping away remnants of tears from her laugh fest. “You may, Sergeant, but if I find any more bodily fluids on my leather, you will be chained to your bed and not in a good way. The keys are on the table.”
He sprints off without another word.
I reclaim my spot back in the chair, glaring at Anniston.
“Relax, ya big baby. Theo and I practiced it with her last night. Didn’t we, you good girl?” The dog licks her face as she praises Killer for attacking someone in the house.
My stomach growls as I watch this little house of horrors. Of course, Theo and Anniston trained the dog to attack. And who would’ve thought Anniston would like dogs?
“You hungry?” She’s always worried about me eating.
“I’ll get something in a minute,” I tell her, watching Mason rub Killer’s belly.
She hops up, dusting the dog hair off her shorts. “I got it. What do you want? Sandwich?”
I nod, graciously accepting her offer. I don’t want to argue with her because she likes feeling needed. When she’s out of sight, I turn to Mason. “So, you told her about the dog?”
He nods, a small smile peeking out as he strokes Killer’s soft fur on her belly. Mason has always been the more reserved one in the bunch. My guess is that he has more demons than all of us combined but he keeps it locked away, only allowing us glimpses into his former self. He’s been slow to warm up to Ans and this whole situation but by the contented look on his face, I wager that Ans has officially won him over. Although, stealing a dog would not have been the method I would have suggested to go about doing it.
“Did you tell Theo about the picture?” Mason whispers.
I nod my head in confirmation, not wanting Anniston to overhear our conversation from the kitchen. “He’ll never get that close to her again,” I say absently, stroking Killer’s soft fur.
“Agreed,” he adds. And for once, Mason shows that he is part of this family, pushing his fist out in an act of solidarity.
I bump it hard with mine.
“Oohrah.”
I brought Anniston along to Washington, as Cade and I agreed, milking the same excuse. My post-op recovery. With absolutely no back talk, she came, truly believing I needed extra care. Whatever gets her on a plane and away from that fucking psycho.
Three weeks are left in the regular season with my team two games from leading the National League East Division. Insert fist pump here. Even though I’m more than ready to wrap this season up and head back to Georgia, I would love to go to the post season playoffs. Not that I am just begging to add it to my resume but because I don’t know when or if this will be my final year playing. If it is, I want to go out with a bang. Winning the World Series would give me that final sense of accomplishment before retiring from the MLB.
But if Michaels has any say over it like he did today, we’ll watch the Marlins soar to the top, leaving us to taste the infield dirt off their cleats for weeks. Fucking Michaels and his bullshit calls behind the plate. That motherfucker dropped several strikes and called the most asinine pitches I have witnessed in all my baseball years. His level of catching was some AA shit, not how a major league player should be performing. Asshole.
Fantasies of Michaels scratching futilely as a raging STD spreads at rapid speed over his balls brings a smile to my grumpy face as the scalding water from the shower kneads my sore, tension-ridden shoulders. It feels so fucking good. Realistically, I should be in an ice bath, preventing the inevitable swelling from the hundred pitches I threw today, but I just couldn’t force myself to endure the torture. I don’t care what miracle healing powers they have, they’re fucking cold and when I’ve had a long ass game all I want to do is shower and go home where I can lounge out on the couch with Ans and the TV and pretend to hate her stupid singing competitions. When they show the contestants’ sob stories, her eyes well with unshed tears while she tries to muffle her sniffles into the throw pillows. It’s one of the only times she shows vulnerability. It’s adorably cute.
“Come on, Theo.” Anniston’s voice echoes in the shower room. “I’m ready to head home and we still need to ice your shoulder.”
I hear her, really I do, but I stay silent hoping to lure her in for maybe a quick stress reliever in the players’ shower stall. Tilting my head away from the direct stream of water, I listen for any noise that would signal her arrival. Nothing. I give it another minute before I turn the water off with a frown. So much for my quickie idea.
Before I can secure a towel around my waist, a cracking sound resounds throughout the shower stall and a fast sting flares on the skin of my butt cheeks. I’m startled, turning, ready to swat my enemy down, when I see a grinning Anniston rolling a towel with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Her hair is down, wavy from being pulled up for so long. She’s changed into her classic look of leggings and one of my promo tees. She looks like my very own cheerleader.
“That fucking stung, Ans!” I scold, trying for a serious expression but by the quirk of her lips, she doesn’t buy it. Fuck it. I laugh and rub at the burning sting on my ass.
Her throaty laughter is all it takes to make me forget about my terrible game. She beckons me with a crook of her finger. “Come here, Von Bremen.” Her voice is sultry, her eyes mischievous, but the smile that puffs out her cheeks is… mine. That smile is mine. It’s only reserved for me. “Let me kiss it better.”
Her enticing promise is the only reason my feet move forward. I’m still a little irked with that towel move. “You want to kiss my ass? That’s a change of pace for you, Ans.” I tease her with a flirty smile as she fluffs the towel, holding it open. She saunters around my naked body, assessing, calculating. It makes me anxious but I wait stoically as she kneels behind me, sliding her hands up over my slick thighs until the muscles tighten. With a featherlight touch of her lips, she plants a cool kiss to my scalding cheek.
“Forgive me?” Her question hangs in the air unanswered as she begins to wrap my hips with the towel.
Words clog in my throat and no amount of clearing helps.
She chuckles at my apparent distress and yanks me forward by the knotted cloth clutched in her hands. “How bout you just nod since you seem to be incapable of speaking?”
Smart-ass.
I play her little game, though, and let her lead me out of the showers to the open changing rooms filled with player’s gear and uniforms.
Her body weight pushes me back against the icy metal of the lockers. The mixture of the cold against my heated skin steals my breath upon contact. Soft, dainty hands caress my jaw before she parts those full lips over mine, teasing me with the warmth of her breath.
“Don’t play,” I grumble, snaking a hand around her waist to hold her still. A man can only take so much. Her eyes dance with mischief, pressing closer, chest to chest. The only thing that would be better is nipple to nipple. Oh, yeah, her shirt needs to go. I give it a little tug. “Take this off.”
She tsks, grabbing my hand, securing it against the locker. I’m just about to toss her to the concrete floor and have my own fun when she smashes her lips to mine. Her tongue sweeps in through the opening I give, the leftover cinnamon flavor of her gum comforting. Our lips and tongues move, slow but fast. Firm but soft. Sweet but ravenous. Warmth tingles through my arms, chills erupting along the base of my neck. Lost in the ecstasy of Anniston, I barely register the strap slipped over my head. She’s moving my arm into another before sense and reality kick in.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breathless, my brain still working hard to clear the fog.
Anniston smirks and takes my other hand, sliding it into what I realize is a catcher’s harness.
“I hate to break it you, babe, but I’m a pitcher.” My joke does nothing to deter her mission. She snugs the straps, securing me in the harness, albeit backward. “You know it goes on the other way, right?”
Surely, she knows this. I mean, she’s been around baseball long enough to know how to put on a catcher’s harness.
Her answer is a shove into the lockers. That tanned, flawless complexion moves close enough that I can smell the rosemary shampoo in her hair.
