Igniting the Wild Sparks (18 page)

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Authors: Ren Alexander

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“Darren, if you were paying attention that was his girlfriend. You know, the one he got his tattoo for?”

“Well, I guess I figured that. I just didn’t expect to see him put it on display like that.”

“Why not? It’s daring of him. Apparently
, they’ve been together a long time. It’s nice to see him finally admitting he’s in a relationship.”

“I thought he had 10 girlfriends, not one.”

“I knew he had eyes for only one woman. I could tell he’s in love.”

“No way, Clare. He’s a huge flirt. I honestly am still shocked.”

“Not me. He’s a really nice guy. Let’s get one last look at the forecast.”

My eyes glaze over and I swipe at them.
Reaching for my phone, I try calling Finn, unsure of where he even is, but he again doesn’t answer or call me back.

Saturday morning, I help Val
at the rummage sale before we have practice. It’s a roaring success, so far. I try to have fun and meet new people, but my mind is on Finn. Though a small part of me fears seeing him after that nightmare, I miss him and I hate being away from him.

If this is what it feels like because I can’t handle not getting married, then I don’t want it.

I want my Sparks.

An hour before practice,
I go home and change into a pink T-shirt and black sweats. I check my phone, but Finn still didn’t call. At least, I think he didn’t. Apparently, my phone now has a vendetta for me. Finn and Rod are right. I need to upgrade.

“Hadley’s here!” Morgan shouts when I walk over. Cara stands in front of the group, holding Finn’s clipboard. Just Cara? No Ricky to save us?
Off to the side of the field, Reed and Milo are filming, which seems like the only connection I have to Finn.

Cara announces,
“Okay. Today we’re going to play the field and take turns at bat. When you’re done batting, you’ll temporarily take the vacant position and allow someone else to take a turn, unless there’s another person who wants to fill it, since there are some extra people. Crick and Rod will switch off. Got it?” She sounds super bored. We nod and drone a collective
yes
. “The only person not here is Brandon. Anyone want to fill his position?”

“I will,” I volunteer
, attempting to be somewhat of a team player.

Cara tosses
me a fleeting look and nods, glancing back down at the clipboard. “Great. Rhonda, will you take left field then?”

“Sure.”

Cara listlessly sighs and says, “Okay. Let’s get out there and warm up.”

“Hadders at short
stop. How fitting,” Rod declares, throwing his arm around me. “We’ll have to change the position’s name to short
stuff.”

I elbow him in the side and
fail at keeping a straight face. “Ass.” He hugs me to him before shoving me away.

We warm up for about 15 minutes when Cara indifferently tells us to take our positions
, and for one of us to come in to bat. Val volunteers first.
Way to be a shining star example, Val.

Taking my
place at short top, I can’t help but grin. This is great. Only if Bethany was at third instead of Shasta. That was the best. We were such a team.

Val hits the ball
to Crick, who sweepingly scoops the grounder and hurdles it to first.

“Well, darn it!” Val grouses with a laugh
and letting the bat she’s holding wilt to the ground. I smile at her, but my initial enthusiasm of being in the infield is already wearing off, my longing for Finn smacking me head-on. I need to see him tonight… if he still wants to see me.

Shasta takes her turn and hits a fly ball in my direction. I run up and easily catch it. Everyone cheers, except for a frowning Shasta. I give her a quick, apologetic smile and scurry back to my position
, not feeling sorry at all, but rather, slightly awkward of my surge of pride from a coworker’s shortcoming. Even if it’s Shasta.

Rod then strides to the mound so Crick can bat.
He takes the ball from Crick and pops the ball in the air a couple times instead of having a few practice throws with our catcher, Amos. As Crick puts on a helmet, Rod tosses the ball into the air and glances over at me, smirking as he catches the ball without looking. Show off. I smile back at him and try again to concentrate on what’s going on.

Taking a handful of swings before he steps up to the plate,
Crick hits the ball to the outfield and Gloria runs after it, but not before Crick is able to round second. She throws the ball to Shasta, who drops it. She recovers it, but Crick makes it to third before she can tag him out.

R
honda takes her turn, shaking her ass a little too much as she gets into her batting stance. Does Rod even notice her at all because she’s putting on a great show just for him. After four pitches, she finally takes one and makes it to first.

Then Gloria
warily steps up, looking quite unsure what to do with a bat. Holy shit, we’ll be here all day. From the pitcher’s mound, Rod yells, “Come on, G Thang!” Gloria laughs, probably unaware of where that name came from. It takes six tries for her to hit a slow grounder to Rod. Rod runs up, grabs the ball and wings it to Grant. Gloria never had a snowball’s chance.

From one of the benches,
Cara monotonously yells for Rod to go next. He hands the ball to Crick before going in to put on a helmet and to grab a bat. With an expression similar to his serious dancing face, he instantly crouches at the plate, ready for action. Crick lobs the first pitch and Rod swings, but misses. Pissed, he cusses and steps back, now deciding to take a few practice swings.

I sigh and stare at the dirt beneath my feet
, really not wanting to be here. I’d rather go to Finn’s and wait for him to get home. He said he wants to talk, and we need to. What will he say? What will
I
say? Is there anything left to even say? Will he break up with me for being a neurotic bitch to him like he said I was in my dream?

The crack of the bat urges me to pay attention, but it’s too late. The ball sails in a
line drive and slams me in the abdomen, throwing me backward. As if in slow motion, I fly through the air before landing on my back. Automatically, I curl into a ball and roll to my side as the pain shoots throughout my stomach and ribs, barely being able to breathe as I gasp for air.

 

 

CHAPT
ER 10

 

 

 

“Hadley!” I hear Rod yell, followed by the metallic thud of his bat before running over, nearly falling on top of me. “Oh, God! I’m so sorry!”

Vaguely, between my moans, I hear Morgan shout amid the other pounding feet approaching. Val squats next to me. “Babe, can you move?”

“No, it hurts,” I cry and wheeze.

Rod rubs my arm. “Jesus! I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Becks!”

My favorite nickname, coming from
that
voice.

I lift my head to see Finn hurriedly sliding into the dirt next to me. Everyone parts to give him room. “You’re here,” I rasp, and he takes my hand.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. I just got to the field. Where’d the ball hit you?”

“My right side.”

Val strokes my forehead. “I think you should go to the hospital,”

“I just need a minute.” A wave of dread washes over me.

This is like my Easter nightmare
.

I bring my hand up from my stomach, but don’t see blood. “Am I bleeding?”

Finn gently raises my pink shirt and my coworkers peer down at my bare stomach. I would try to hide, but the pain is too much to be modest.

He says, “No, but you have a big red spot that’s already turning purple. I’m taking you to the hospital
now.

“No!”

Rod hovers at my knees. “Hadders, listen to Wilder. This is all my fault and if something happens to you because of it, I’ll hate myself. The hospital is just three or four blocks away.”

Finn squeezes my hand tighter. “You could have internal injuries or a broken rib. We’re going.” He doesn’t sound like he’s open to negotiations, but I try anyway.

“I’m fine.” I slowly sit up, but the pain starkly radiates and I fall back into a heap. Before I can argue more, Finn carefully lifts me from the ground and cradles me against him. I lay my head against his dark blue T-shirted shoulder and hold my stomach as he carries me to his car.

He asks, “Do you want to lie down or are you okay sitting up?”

“I can sit up. I’m going to get your car dirty.” I sniff as he pulls his key out of his pocket and unlocks the doors.

“Becks, I don’t care.” Opening the passenger door, he slowly lowers me into the seat. He puts my seatbelt on and I slump forward.

He gets in and starts the car, rapidly shifting gears and peeling out of the parking lot.

The pain subsides slightly when I foresee him crashing into someone. “Finn, slow down! I’m not dying.”

“Don’t worry about my driving.” He makes a sharp turn and I screech. “Sorry.”

I glare at his handsome profile, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. “You’re going to get pulled over!”

He laughs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “My best friend is a cop and I know a ton of his coworkers. I’ll get out of it.”

“You’re a cocky bastard.”

He smoothly downshifts and puts his turn signal on before looking at me with a subtle smirk. “Yep.”

“I’m not that hurt. Just take me home.”

“Nope.”

Finn pulls into the hospital’s emergency room parking lot and jumps out of the car as I sluggishly open my door. Before I can get out, he lunges, scooping me up before I can try to get out myself. Shoving the door closed with his foot, he warns, “Don’t you
dare,
Becks.”

I irritably scoff, “I can walk.”

“Not if you have internal bleeding you can’t.”

“It’s just a bruise.”

“Humor me then.”

Finn carries me into the ER’s waiting room and up to the desk, telling them what happened. Thinking that we’ll be waiting awhile, I tell him to put me down, but instead, the receptionist speaks to a nurse who directs us to a small room with a gurney. When I broke my wrist, I waited forever. Go figure.

When we go into the room, Finn gently places me on the bed. The blonde nurse asks what happened to me as she briefly assesses my injury. Finn takes a seat across from me, looking extremely nervous.

She grabs a cuff and takes my blood pressure. “Are you pregnant, honey?”

I glance at Finn and his eyes widen in apparent horror. Does he think I’m lying to him? I would never lie about that. It’s not something I could hide for long anyway.

I look back at the nurse. “No.”

“Is there any chance that you could be?”

“No. I just had my period.”

“Most likely, the doctor will order a CAT scan. That’s why I’m asking.” She tears the cuff off and the loud, scratching sound rips through my jumbled mind. “Your blood pressure is good, so that’s a positive sign of no bleeding. I’ll go get the doctor.”

When she leaves, I turn and give Finn a little smile. “Hi. Have we met?”

He leans forward, putting his forearms on his legs and clasping his hands together as his forehead wrinkles. “What?”

“We met here in this hospital. Out there. Or don’t you remember?”

He also held me prisoner here in my nightmare
.

“Oh. I wasn’t thinking of that.”

I quietly ask, “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and dubiously laughs. “Why are you asking
me
that?”

“Because you look sick, Sparks.”

“I’m worried about you. I’d rather it be me in here than you.”

“Not me because then
I’d
be worried.”

He looks down at the floor and takes a deep breath. Without looking back up at me, he asks, “Why were you at shortstop, Becks, when I specifically said you weren’t playing there?”

I scowl at him even though he doesn’t see me. “Why does it matter now? I’m not pregnant.”

He swiftly glances up. “So? You still got hurt.”

“I can get hurt tripping on the sidewalk.”

“Becks.”

“What, Finn? I told you not to give me special treatment. It’s not fair to everyone else.”

He tartly frowns. “I’m not.”

“Oh, really? Would you be sitting here with Gloria if it were her instead of me?”

“I’d at least be in the waiting room.”

“So what makes me so different then?”

His frown becomes incredulous. “You’re really asking me that?”

“I guess I am,
coach
, since you say you don’t treat me any differently than any of your other players.”

He rolls his eyes.
“Point taken.”

I smile. “So, you’re saying I
am
special?”

He bites his lip and says, “I’m saying maybe you were conked on the head and need a CAT scan there instead of your stomach.”

“I think you like me.”

“Somewhat.” He sits up, crossing his arms and putting an ankle over his knee. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not…pregnant.” There he goes again, nearly choking on the word.

I shrug. “I guess. More paperwork.”
And a panicked boyfriend.

He irritably rolls his eyes. “That’s
not
what I mean. That was a hard hit.”

“Yeah. Rod has some swing, doesn’t he?”

“You weren’t paying attention as much as you should’ve been.”

I cock my head and grimace. “I was. I caught a couple, one in the stomach, but it was a catch.”

He glares at me, apparently not liking my jest. “When I got there, you were staring at the ground, obviously lost in thought. Why? What were you thinking about?”

Shrugging, I look at the glossy, beige floor. “Nothing. The ball just unexpectedly hit me. It happens.”

Not buying my excuse, he glances away from me, shaking his head. “Becks, the other night—”

The door opens, and a young, male doctor interrupts us, introducing himself as Dr. Koontz, and right away examines my stomach. “Does it hurt when I press here?”

“Not so much.”

“What about here?”

I grunt, “Yes.” From my peripheral, I see Finn shifting in his seat, and hear him sighing.

Dr. Koontz nods and says, “Well, I don’t think you have internal bleeding, but I want you to have a CT scan just to be sure. Did the nurse already ask if you’re pregnant?”

“She did. I’m not.”

“Okay. A nurse will come in and have you drink a contrast solution before you have the scan. I’ll have her get you started with that.” He smiles and leaves Finn and me sitting in silence, neither of us really wanting to talk about what happened Saturday night in the place we met three years ago.

After I drink the nasty, sour crap that makes me gag with every sip, I’m put through a big machine that rotates around me, while I hold my breath through several passes. Finn has to wait in the waiting room. It’s already been a few hours and I feel bad that he’s still here. He did the same thing when I broke my wrist, but I didn’t know he had stayed until I was all done getting my cast on. I felt so bad, but honored that he stayed for me.

Those same feelings flood me again now.

To wait for my results, I’m then wheeled into another small room, where Finn is ushered in soon after. He gingerly stands beside the bed and when the orderly leaves, Finn moves to hang above me, putting his hands next to both sides of my head, staring me down…
just like in my dream
. Am I suddenly psychic? I feel the terror settling in my belly, beneath my bruises. Is he going to tell me I’m having a surgery to sterilize me? Is he going to call me a whore? Is he going to say he hates me?

I anxiously lick my lips and stutter, “W-what?”

His dark eyes fly over my face as I apprehensively gape at him. “I have to work tonight.”

Calmed to some degree, I quickly nod. “Okay. Thank you for staying with me.”

Finn’s uneasy smirk catches my attention. “Where else would I be, Becks?”

I want to look away from him, but I can’t. “I don’t know. Work. Home. Ricky’s. Anywhere but here.”

“I wouldn’t have brought you and just dropped you off.”

“Well, thank you anyway, coach.” I smile and his gaze drifts down to my lips, leaving me to stare at his eyelashes.

Without looking up, he says, “Uh-huh. How do you feel?”

“Sore, but better after the Tylenol.”

His eyes slowly come back up to mine as he nods. “Good. If you’re released soon, why don’t you stay at my place tonight?”

“I don’t have any clothes there.”

Finn succinctly frowns and a gloom passes over his face. “Oh. Right.”

Needing to change the subject, I blurt, “You missed Mass. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head, he says, “Don’t worry about it. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”

“Even in a hospital?”

Finn summarily glances above my head and sighs before returning his gaze to me. “Even in a hospital. If I were still out of town, I would’ve come home.” He cautiously inches closer to me and I’m filled with both trepidation and anticipation. I’m afraid because of what happened Saturday night and then because of my dream.

Still leaning over me, he licks his lips, which makes me lick mine. Moving closer, his hot breath bathes my lips as his part, and my eyes flutter closed.

“Ms. Beckett?” I jump as Sparks promptly moves away, but grabbing my hand. A female doctor with graying, brown hair proclaims, “Your test results are fine. Your liver is okay, just a little bruised, along with a bruised diaphragm. I want you to refrain from softball for at least a week or until the pain subsides. I’ll give you something for the pain or if it’s not that persistent, take Tylenol. Get some rest, no heavy lifting and apply ice. I’ll give you aftercare instructions before your release. The nurse will get those together for you. Okay? Any questions?” I shake my head and she makes some notes on my chart before she leaves.

I look up at Finn. “See. I’m okay.”

He tries to be casual when he shrugs, but when he deeply inhales, it confirms how tense he actually was. “I feel better that you were checked out.”

“I can’t miss our first game, Sparks. I don’t want to do that to my team.”

His fingers stroke mine. “It’s a few weeks away. Don’t worry about the first game. I want you to get better. You need to rest when you get home.”

Smiling, I pull on his hand. “This time leaving the ER, I’m leaving
with
you.”

Finn’s responding smile is effortless. “This place does hold a special place in my heart.”

My smile widens and I timidly ask, “It does?”

His eyebrows tug together, but his smile remains. “Well, yeah. Doesn’t it for you?”

Successfully curbing a laugh, I reply, “Yes. Their ER beds are really comfy.”

He chuckles. “Is that right?”

I beam at his amused baby face. “It is.” Biting his lip, he teasingly rolls his eyes.

After the paperwork is all finished, Finn helps me get dressed, even helping me to put my sneakers on and tying them, too.

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