Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (22 page)

“Come on, Avery.” He ushers her from my room, and I slam the door, locking it. Locking out the memories. Locking out the pain. Locking out my questions. Too bad none of those things got the memo and each one crept back in submerging me in their cruel hands.

“Quit slamming the door!” Emberlee hollers.

“Quit breathing!” Avery yells back. The next five months are going to be a blast. I’m rethinking the apartment—I’m one bad decision from an extended stay in the loony bin staying here.

School is a welcome distraction. I’ve seen Deacon three times. Each of those times he acted like I was invisible. Legit he looked at me, looked through me, looked away from me. He repeated those steps each time.

I’m scanning the quad for him, not paying attention, and bump into someone, knocking my drink to the ground and my book bag lands in it. “Damn it,” tears fill my eyes. I’ve turned into an over-sensitive ball of hormones. I guess letting go of the pain of the past leaves room to experience the pain of the present.

“No use crying over spilled Coke.” Oh no. My lungs seize, and panic sets in. I look up and blindly reach for my things. I can’t take my eyes off him, but I calm as I take in my surroundings and say a silent thanks that we’re in a busy quad.

“I’ve got it.” I need him to leave.

“Saylor, I owe you an apology. I was out of line, and I blame nobody but myself. I’d like to start over. Start fresh.”

“Alec, I don’t trust you. Maybe you aren’t a bad guy, but you scared me. I’d rather not start over.” His face isn’t covered in bruises like last time I saw him.

“Fair enough. I’m glad I got to apologize to you.” He stands to leave when hands grip him by the throat and shove him into the building.

“You were told to stay away from her,” Deacon warns as his fist crunches Alec’s nose.

“Deacon, stop. He apologized and was leaving. I ran into him.” His body freezes. He drops his hand, and Alec scurries off. I’m staring at his back, his muscles trembling. “Hey,” I say awkwardly.

He turns and sidesteps me. I grab his arm. “Don’t.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

“Sorry. This is weird.”

“Yeah. That’s why I was leaving.”

“You can’t say hello to me?”

“I’d rather not have any conversations with you.”

“You promised you’d remain my friend no matter what.” I’m frenetic. I know I can’t be with him, but not having him in my life in any form is terrifying.

“I lied,” he deadpans and leaves me standing, staring at his retreating form. I recoil from his harsh words like he slapped me.

“Shortstop!” Mason skids to a halt next to me. “What’s up? I got a 9-1-1 text from Deacon telling me to meet him here.”

“He just left.” I point in the direction and can still see him walking in the distance.

“What the hell happened?”

“The end happened. Written in bold. No turning the page for a preview. Our chapter ran its course. Time for a new story featuring his family.” I don’t try to suppress the crack in my voice, the tears staining my cheeks, the weakness in my legs.

I turned and saw her in his reach, and I reacted. I don’t regret it. He was told to avoid her, and he didn’t fucking listen. She was within my grasp, and hearing her voice, it took all my strength not to turn and grab her, pull her to me, hold tight. I hadn’t seen or talked to her in a month, and all she said was ‘Hey.’

She should have said
I’m sorry
.

She should have said
I miss you
.

She should have said
I made a mistake
.

She should have said a lot of things—instead, she decided to open the lines of communication with ‘Hey.’

Reminding me of the promise I made her . . . it was a promise I didn’t intend to keep because I never planned to be
just friends
with her. She took that decision from me and she can damn well live with the consequences. I hear footsteps, and Mason hollers for me to wait. I’m at my Jeep and don’t feel like dealing with him . . . or anyone for that matter.

“You text me 9-1-1 and bail, not cool.”

“I handled it.” I’d texted him as a precaution. Alec made me see red, and I didn’t trust myself to intervene without backup to pull me off him.

“I saw Saylor, and she looked shaken up. What happened?”

“Alec. She bumped into him, and I reacted.”

“Fuck. He didn’t learn the first time?”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that. She ran into him. He apologized, but I still punched him.”

“Feel better?”

“Not really.” I need to remove my head from my ass. Games start next week, and I owe it to my team and my friends to be at my best when I step on the field.

“I don’t think she was upset about Alec.” His accusation is evident in his tone.

“Yeah, well she doesn’t get to be upset.”

“Deacon, quit making her the bad guy. You know her history, hell you told us. You fucking refuse to tell her or let us enlighten her to the truth. For all she knows, you and Adriane are playing house. Place the blame where it needs to be…on Emberlee.”

“She had two weeks to call me or any one of you when we were in Colorado. She’s had a month since we’ve been home, and I’ve gotten nada.” He isn’t going to make me feel bad for my decision.

“Bullshit. She was wrong for running. I’ll give you that. Do you know what I’ve seen since we’ve been home? Nothing. She stays in her room. I’m sure to avoid Emberlee, but more than likely to avoid accidently seeing you and Adriane.”

“There is no me and Adriane.”

“I know that, but she doesn’t. Blame her for jumping to conclusions, but you need to accept some blame for being just as stubborn.”

“So I tell her what went down. What does that change? Nothing because the next time a situation arises that creates doubt, she runs again—over and over. That is her pattern. I won’t do that to myself, but I sure as hell won’t let Julie be subjected to that. You know she watches the door every night when I feed her? Waiting for Saylor. She’s nine months and she’s formed a bond. What do you think will happen when she’s one? Or two? If I won’t let her mother do that to her, what makes you think it’s okay for some girl to have that power?”

“Because she isn’t
some
girl. You and I both know that.”

“Whatever.” I open my door and end this conversation.

“You’re wrong. You know I have your back, but I’m telling you you’re a dumbass. So things may not work with her—hell you could break her heart, but you won’t know unless you try. Talk to her.” His words hold some truth, but I don’t want to hear them.

I knew she was a bit broken. I went into it with my eyes wide open. What I didn’t prepare for is feeling this broken. I was willing to take her pain. Her past. Her guilt. I wasn’t going to fix her, but I hoped I could soothe the scars she carried. I wanted her trust. Her loyalty. Her love. I was patient. I was strong. I was honest.

I was now the damaged one. I was the one left holding a baby who still searched for her. In trying to mend her, I was the one who ended up broken. And she wasn’t bothering to mend me.

I start the ignition and rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Sam Hunt’s ‘Make You Miss Me’ sparks a fire in me. I don’t know if I want to fan the flames or extinguish the burn. I know I miss her. I know she hurt me. I know I still want her, but don’t know if I’m willing to fight for her all over again.

The decision is made for me. Ms. Hill, Julie’s sitter, informs me she’s moving to Ohio to help her daughter. Her son-in-law is set to be deployed for six months, and they have three kids under the age of five . . . with another due in three months. She is leaving in three weeks. Baseball season begins next week, traveling included, and I am at a loss. I know my mom will step in, but that’s the situation I’d tried to avoid.

Saylor and I had set up our schedule so traveling wouldn’t be so rough, but we still need a sitter for Julie. I had all my classes early so I was done by mid-morning and had time with Julie before practice and games. Saylor’s classes were mid-morning to early afternoon to free up her evenings and minimize the time Julie wasn’t with one of us. That’s what makes everything that happened harder to accept. This was Saylor’s idea; she jumped in with both feet when she decided she wanted this. She hauled ass the same way she jumped in—completely and all at once.

“Little girl, what is Daddy gonna do?” Talking to an infant who doesn’t speak is the highlight of my day.

“About what?” Avery scares the piss out of me. I didn’t hear her come in.

“Damn woman, you shaved ten years off my life.”

“You told me I could come get Julie for a few hours.”

“Shit, I forgot. Long day. Ms. Hill just told me I need a new sitter. She’s moving.”

“That sucks. Why don’t you see if Saylor can help?”

“Nah, I’ll handle it.” I’m tired of everyone telling me I need to talk to her, ask for her help. What about what she should do? First on that list is to reach out to me. It shouldn’t be the other way around. “Let me check her bag to make sure everything is ready.” Avery takes Julie from me. “I should be back by eight-ish. Practice shouldn’t be long, but we are preparing for opening day.”

“Take your time. The monster and I will be fine.”

“If Emberlee is there, you know my rules.”

“If that bitch is there, I’ll just come back over here. I just have a few things to do anyway, so we’ll be here when you get home.”

“Thank you, Avery.”

“That’s what friends are for. You know I’m proud of you, Deacon. You’re doing an amazing job with her.”

“She makes it easy.” I kiss Julie and hug Avery.

“Tell Daddy bye.” Avery jokes.

“Da-da-da-da-da.” Julie babbles. Tears spring to my eyes. Everything stops. Everything quiets.

“Did she just…”

“Yeah, she did. See, great job, even she knows it. Now go play ball Da-da.” I leave for practice, floating on cloud fucking nine. I needed that after everything, but I begin to deflate a bit when I automatically reach for my phone to call Saylor and tell her. The one person I want to share moments like this with isn’t in my life.

I call my mom instead and feel lame. I’m nineteen, close to twenty, calling Mommy to share news. At this rate, I’ll never get my man card back. I work out childcare while I’m talking to her. Of course my mom is elated, and she offers to drop Julie off to me in the evenings, so I’m only making one trip over there each day. It’s easier for me to make the drive in the mornings. I hate I need so much help, and I contemplate quitting baseball. The travel is going to make me dependent on someone to care for Julie overnight. I know it’s just a few months, but nothing is more important than my job as a dad.