by Kristy Marie
We both laugh all the way downstairs. I avoid looking at her ass again, thank god. Once in her office, she gathers IV trays and bags of fluid, along with some vials of medicine. I don’t ask questions, fearing I will break her concentration. I just hold open the bag she hands me and let her fill it with supplies. When she finishes, we take the stairs two at a time to Hayes’ room.
It’s unlocked when we enter. Anniston taps briefly on the doorframe. “Hayes?”
We take a look around when he doesn’t answer right away. His room is a mess. Clothes are strewn across every solid surface. Bed inspections are going to start being random from now on. This shit is just nasty.
Just as I kick a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, groaning comes from somewhere near the floor. Anniston takes off and by the time I catch up she is kneeling over a very pale and diaphoretic Hayes.
“He’s burning up,” she tells me. “Let’s get him to the bed.”
He groans in response.
“Let Commander make you feel better, handsome,” she coos, wiping wet strands of hair from his face.
I squat down beside her and nod my head toward the bag I was carrying. “I got him. Grab the bag.”
She hoists it up and moves to the bed, waiting. Wedging my shoulder under Hayes’ arm, I grab his other and pull it tight over my chest. Lifting with my legs, I get him upright. “Come on, man. A few steps to the bed.”
He nods, exhausted, but takes a few steps. We stumble but ultimately make it to the bed and I help him lay back as Anniston gets a wet washcloth ready. She wipes his face and then rolls the towel up and gently places it on his forehead. “Are you scared of needles?”
He murmurs a “no,” while she applies a tourniquet to his upper arm.
“Open up,” she orders.
Hayes, not putting up a fight at all, opens his mouth as she places a pill under his tongue.
“Let that dissolve, okay? It will help with the nausea.”
Hayes just lays there with his eyes closed, breathing heavily.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, feeling a little useless at the moment.
Anniston tears open an IV kit and pulls out the needle. It looks bigger than I remember. “Can you put up the pole and hang the fluids?”
I look at her, then at the needle. And gulp. “I think so,” I reply a little unsteadily.
She gets set up, wiping Hayes’ arm down with antiseptic and speaks softly in his ear about not swapping spit with hookers. I almost laugh at her absurd humor, although with Hayes, it’s quite possible. Hayes cracks a smile at her comment and barely flinches when she pierces his skin with the needle.
With expert efficiency, we have the fluids going in minutes. Anniston adds another injection in Hayes’ IV before covering the now sleeping man-whore and turning off the lights.
We place three more IVs before we make it back downstairs. It’s well after midnight and we are beyond tired.
“Go on to bed. I’ll get this cleaned up.” She starts cleaning the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with today’s dishes that Tim never got around to doing.
“I’m fine,” I reply, bagging up the trash.
She cuts me a look like she could beat my ass if she had the energy, but in the end, she sighs and goes back to the dishes.
What seems like two hours later we’re sprawled across the sofa, utterly exhausted. It’s three a.m. and the only thing on TV is bullshit infomercials about the best total gyms. What a joke.
Anniston is curled over my lap breathing rhythmically. My guess is she is either asleep or just about there. I’m wide awake from my impromptu nap earlier this evening. Sleep will not come to me for quite some time.
I zone out to the juiced-up dude with entirely too much oil on his body trying to sell me the fact that I, too, can look like him in six short weeks. Ha. Please.
It took months to build the muscles I have and it wasn’t from one piece of equipment. It was from hurling tires, running miles uphill, and doing push-ups while Anniston sat on my back barking about the rhythm she wanted. It was hell and heaven all wrapped up in a beautiful package.
Just thinking about the time when we trained all day brings a smile to my face. Some days I thought she hated me because of all the shit she put me through. Now I know that she was giving me control. Showing me what my body could handle. She showed me how to push on when I thought I had nothing left to give.
I stroke an errant strand of hair from her face as her chest rises and falls against my leg. Incredible. She is absolutely incredible. I don’t understand how one person can hold so much power over another. But she does. Every one of the guys asked when she was coming home this weekend. Each of them sneaking FaceTime calls to her.
We’re all fucked.
“Hey.” I whip my head around to see a rumpled Theo, his eyes squinting in the light from the TV. From the looks of it, he just rolled out of bed.
“Hey,” I return, turning back to the infomercial.
“She asleep?” he asks, coming to sit in the recliner across from me.
“Yep.”
“I’ll take her up to bed.” He rises back to his feet.
My grip tightens on her back. “I got her,” I clip out.
He stands there a moment, staring me down, but whatever he sees in my eyes makes him sigh and return to the recliner. I continue to watch the TV like he isn’t there.
“She would kick your ass if she knew you were still awake,” he says, his lip twitching in amusement.
I glare at him, annoyed that he is still here. “She would feel the same about you,” I return bitterly.
He shrugs one shoulder and smiles at me arrogantly. “You woke me with all the noise you were making down here.”
What a bastard.
I roll my eyes and get back to my program. Entertaining his bullshit just eggs him on.
A few blissful minutes of silence pass before I hear a soft groan. I look at Theo, praying he’s not jerking off or something.
He’s massaging his shoulder, grimacing in pain.
I jerk my chin, indicating his shoulder. “What’s going on with your arm?”
“I need to ice it,” he grinds out between hard rubs.
“Then go ice it,” I say, annoyed that he’s whining about it.
“I can’t reach it.”
Something like guilt or maybe pity settles in my stomach, churning over feelings I wish it wouldn’t. Why am I feeling sorry for this asshole? Dammit.
With a sigh, I ask the question I know I am going to regret, but ask anyway. “Want me to help you tape it up?”
His head snaps up, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. Then his forehead scrunches up like he isn’t sure if I’m playing some kind of joke.
“I’m serious. I know how to ice it. Ans taught me,” I say nonchalantly. I don’t want him making a big deal of it. Take my help or leave it, asshole.
He looks at me for a moment and then mutters, “Okay.”
I shift Ans off my legs and onto the couch before covering her with the only pink blanket in the house. For a moment Theo and I both just stand there and admire her sleeping form.
“Come on,” I say after a beat and we walk to the treatment room in silence, where I unlock the door.
Theo climbs onto the table after grabbing the wrap and kinetic tape, while I take a premade bag of ice out of the freezer. “Does she do anything else?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I will take extra turmeric when we finish.”
He removes his shirt awkwardly, both us feeling strange in our current situation. I try to tell myself that I’m doing this because he’s our bread and butter making this soon to be foundation run. When we couldn’t get a loan or grant, Theo funded the money. But the truth is, Ans wouldn’t want him to be in pain. And my loyalty lies with her. She would want me to help him if I could.
I take the tape from his hand and move to stand between his legs. The tension is palpable.
“Tell me where,” I say nervously
.
Theo drags his fingers down the line of muscles that he needs the tape to go on. I’m thankful he is experienced with this kind of thing and doesn’t need me to press around to find the sore spots. I stretch the tape across the deltoid muscles he indicated with a firm press of my hand. He hisses out a painful breath, causing me to halt.
“You okay?” I don’t want to fuck up a million-dollar arm.
He grunts. “Yeah, keep going.”
And I do until he tells me to stop. His shoulder and back look like a road map of pain with tape going in a hundred different directions. But after he rolls the muscles back and forth, he tells me it feels better.
Good.
I want to get this shit over with.
I grab the ice and the wrap from the table. “Tell me where it needs to go,” I instruct again as I place the bag on his shoulder.
He flinches away from the cold and pulls in a deep breath. After a few seconds of getting used to the temperature, he relaxes and directs me to the back of his shoulder blade.
It’s a hard position to keep the bag on. It’s going to be interesting to wrap it up.
“Can you help hold the bag?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He reaches across his chest, stretching his arm, and barely clasps the corner of the bag. It’s obvious he’s in pain and uncomfortable in this position.
That fucking feeling hits me again.
“Let me try and tape it down first, then we can remove the tape after we secure the wrap.”
He nods, relieved at my suggestion.
I position the bag once again and add several pieces of tape. It slips from the moisture but holds long enough for me to get the wrap around it. I make several loops around his body, telling him when to lift and lower his arms just like I’ve seen Commander do a thousand times. It’s awkward. We are in each other’s personal space.
Attempting to ease the tension, I ask a question that I have been more than curious about. “Why were you giving Commander hell this weekend?”
Theo’s head raises slowly as he meets my stare. He blinks, one, two, three times, before he shrugs off my question, wincing at the motion. My brows arch in an unspoken challenge.
He frowns and then as if choosing to take the loss of the silent war waging inside his head, he says in defeat, “I want to quit baseball.”
My hands pause. Shocked at this statement, I stutter, “Why would you want to do that?” Pulling myself together, I add, “You’re in the prime of your career.”
Is he crazy?
He huffs out a laugh. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” I encourage, wrapping another layer of tape over his shoulder.
He lets out an annoyed huff. And just when I think he is going to stay silent and take his secret to the grave, he speaks. “When we were kids, Anniston’s grandfather would play ball with us every evening after dinner. He was the coach for our high school baseball team,” he clarifies for me when I raise my eyebrows in surprise.
Anniston never talks about her grandparents. Her past is a mystery that I have been beyond curious about.
Theo pauses a moment, deep in thought. “Anyway, my parents weren’t around much and I stayed with Anniston and her grandparents as often as they would allow. Her grandfather, Hines, taught Anniston and me everything he knew about baseball. And we were like sponges, soaking up every bit of information. I made the baseball team that spring for our middle school. I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. Had a purpose, you know?”
I give him an understanding nod, focusing on my task of wrapping his shoulder.
“I was pitching no-hitter games and breaking records left and right. Baseball came naturally to me and with Hines’ help, I was an unstoppable force.” He smiles to himself at the memory. “And that little bounding beauty of ours was in the stands every single game. Screaming my name. Screaming out plays to me.”
He chuckles to himself. “Even when parents and other visitors glared and fussed at her to shut up, she kept on rooting for me, coaching me from the stands. She never missed a game. Not even when she was sick.” He takes a deep breath. “What started out as a family ritual soon became a driving need. A need to keep a smile on her face. A need to keep her screaming for me. A need to keep her. She became my obsession,” he admits, dropping his head. “I wasn’t playing for me anymore. I was playing for her. I was playing for keeps.”
He pulls in a shuddering breath. “After Hines died, Anniston and I bonded even more over baseball. She became my mentor, my trainer, and… my love.”
Sealing the wrap on his shoulder, I let his words hang in the air between us.
His love.
I watch as he takes a moment to test out the movement in his shoulder. Seemingly satisfied with my work, he hops off the table and heads to the door.
“And now?” I ask bluntly just as he crosses the threshold. I can’t help but be curious as to how this story ends.
He looks over his shoulder with a forced smile. “And now, she spends her days with you and I pitch to an empty seat.”
Fuck me.
Rubbing his shoulder, he meets my eyes. “Thanks,” he says almost sadly. “Will you bring her up?”
I nod, stunned into silence.
When he leaves, I clean up and lock the door behind me, dragging my feet back to the family room, where a sleeping Anniston is snoring softly.
I steal a minute to admire her in private before I scoop her up, cradling her small body to my chest. And with the weight of a thousand pounds of guilt, I carry the girl I love more than my next breath up the stairs and lay her down next to the man who, quite possibly, loves her more than I do.
“Commander. Major would like to see you in his office.”
I am elbow deep scrubbing disgusting man juice or whatever foreign substance someone secreted onto the sink. I don’t even want to consider what it might be. Who knows what these jerk-offs do when I’m not here. I keep on task, barely registering Vic’s request until he clears his throat. Again.
Slowly, I raise my head from the sink and level him with a look. “Do you know what the fuck this is, Petty Officer Reed?”
He has the audacity to look sheepish. He clears his throat again and stumbles over his words. “I will finish cleaning, ma’am.” He takes a tentative step forward and reaches for the Brillo pad in my hand.
I squint my eyes, trying to figure out just what they were up to. But you know what? Sometimes ignorance is bliss. I toss it to him, wiping my hands on my shorts. “It better come off,” I warn.
He nods his understanding before swallowing thickly. “Yes, ma’am.”
I mutter, “nasty asses,” as I pass him and head to Cade’s office.
It’s interesting that Cade summoned me. Someone has some balls today. I’m kind of excited to see what he wants. This is the first time I have been “summoned” to his office. I feel like a naughty schoolgirl.
When I reach the downstairs nook that we created for Cade’s office, he is perched behind the desk, his black-framed glasses resting on his nose. He reminds me of Superman. Hot as fuck, stronger than any man should be allowed to be. I take a moment to admire my friend. He’s come a long way and I have to say, I’m not sure what I would ever do without him. But that’s the goal. I want him to be healthy and meet someone. I want him to pop out lots of babies for me to hold. I want him to be cherished. I want someone to honor him and worship the man he is.
“Commander.” His gruff voice pulls me from my daydream about his future. He extends his hand, motioning for me to enter.
What is this? The twilight zone? I start to laugh but quickly reign it in when I see how serious he is about this meeting. Color me intrigued.
I plop down in the leather-bound chair across from him, tucking my legs under me. “Yes, my liege? You rang?”
He glares at me, not all at amused with my humor this morning. I grin, hoping to lighten the tone of this meeting. It’s too early for drama or bullshit, so if it’s going to be bad new
s, give it to me with a smile.
Eventually, Cade breaks when I blow him a kiss. Shaking his head, amusement etched in his features, he slides an envelope across the desk. “Markell is pitching tonight,” he says confidently.
And… I knew that. Markell is Theo’s best pitching rival. Their stats are neck and neck, Markell gunning for the CY Young award this year. He may actually get it if I’m being honest. Hopefully Theo has his head out of his ass and throws worth a fuck tonight. He left yesterday in a pouty ball of hateful ass.
I nod in agreement, taking the envelope. Inside are two plane tickets for this afternoon. Confused, I look at Cade. “You want to go?”
His lips quirk up in a sweet smile. “I would, but someone needs to stay here.”
When I just stare at him with obvious bewilderment, he explains. “He needs you there. Hayes will be going with you. It’s all arranged. I will take care of everything here.”
I start to protest when he cuts me off.
“Let me do this, Commander. He would want you there.”
The sincere look in those emerald eyes causes my heart to contract painfully. Theo would want me there but I feel torn. I haven’t been home long from Washington.
“What will you do at night?” I counter. He still screams every night. And every night we go downstairs and run or play video games. He’s not as feral as he was in the beginning but still… I worry. Leaving for Washington last week was hard, but Theo needed me more.
Cade’s smile drops a little. “I promise to take the pill while you are away.”
Now, he’s talking my language.
“You promise?”
This is seriously a big deal for him. I think he knows I would worry, and this is his way of compromising.
“I promise. But just for the one night.”
I can live with that. Finally excited, I jump out of my chair. “Deal!” I push out my fist.
He laughs jovially before returning my fist bump. “Go pack, Commander. Your plane leaves in four hours.”
I grab his sweet, giving face and place a chaste kiss on his cheek before straightening. “Yes, sir!”
I flee from the room in search of Hayes and leave Cade’s sweet laughter behind.
