19. Jaxon
19
JAXON
From the dugout, I watch Logan on the pitcher’s mound as he lets a fastball rip. It’s fucking beautiful, just barely staying within the strike zone. A perfect pitch. He’s doing surprisingly well today, all things considered.
And by “all things considered,” I’m referring to the shitstorm that’s following Rya around everywhere. Fucking idiot in a mask taunting her from the back of the auditorium, followed by an incompetent dickhead at the campus police station. Fucking awesome night.
We’ve fulfilled our promise to her all day long. She hasn’t been alone, unless using the women’s restroom this morning counts. Logan stood outside the door, like a fuckin’ sentry. We traded off who was with her between classes, and then I brought her to the field while Logan warmed up his pitching arm. I let out a sigh, my gaze shifting to search the crowd for her. Spotting her, I nod my approval at seeing Hazel in the stands with her.
The two girls have been deep in conversation for quite some time. Not sure what about. Maybe the masked stalker. Or it could be ballet shoes and tutus for all I know. They seem tense with each other, though. I’ll have to ask Rya about it later.
Logan winds up again, and as the ump calls another out, there’s a cheer and some loud clapping from the crowd. I cringe, turning my head and knowing exactly who I’m going to find there in the stands along the first base line. Eric and Jamie Ledger. My dad and stepmother. Grimacing, I shake my head, trying to digest the fact that they’re here. But I can’t. My jaw tightens, teeth grinding. When did they arrive? Have they been here the entire damn time? Something twists in my gut. A few weeks ago, I’d have had to admit to that god-awful feeling being jealousy. And okay, maybe a hint of that remains. But it’s mostly just anger simmering there.
I drag in a harsh breath, my gaze swinging back to the pitcher’s mound. Logan’s eyes connect with mine, then shift over to our parents. He knows I’ve seen them. He gives a slight jerk of his head as if to tell me that everything is okay.
But it’s not. This is bullshit. I shake my head, doing my damnedest to tune out thoughts raging through my mind.
Two minutes later, the Hawks come off the field and the first few batters in our lineup begin to warm up. Logan jogs over to me, taking up residence at my side. Doug is in the bullpen. When my eyes scan the scoreboard, I realize I’ve been off in my head for the better part of two innings. “You done?” Removing my ball cap, I run a hand through my hair before replacing it again.
Logan peers at me from the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Coach says Doug can handle it from here.” He subtly nudges my arm, and in a low voice, he murmurs, “I didn’t ask them to come, Jax. I didn’t tell either of them I was pitching today. Would have told Mom, but I was nervous.”
“Nervous about what? You’re a fucking great pitcher and you know it.”
He blinks a few times, as if at a loss for words. Finally, he sighs before throwing a hand out in frustration. “Because I knew what him showing up for me would do to you.”
I work my jaw to the side, letting his words sink in. We stand in silence for several minutes, watching the game play out. Azriel smashes a ball into left field, and runners take off, rounding the bases. The rest of the team is whooping and hollering, but it’s all I can do not to lose my shit. Because if what he’s saying is true, there’s a possibility my father sought out the game schedule on his own and decided this would be a good idea.
Beside me, my stepbrother is also clearly not focused on the game. I sense his blue-eyed stare on my profile. “Maybe my mom showed him the schedule.”
I grimace. “You know she’s never liked to come to games—even when we were both playing in high school, so I kinda fuckin’ doubt it, but thanks.”
He leans forward, resting one arm on the railing of the dugout, partially blocking me from other players’ views. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but it’s not for him to put his hand over mine. The warmth of his calloused palm sinks into my skin. He curls his fingers around my hand… and doesn’t let go.
I huff out a breath, unsure how to feel about any of it, and definitely feeling fucking exposed, even though there’s no way anyone can see what he’s doing. When I’m finally able to formulate my erratic thoughts into words, they aren’t anything like what I’m expecting them to be. The hurt scrapes up from my throat, raw and gritty. “Did you know he’s never once asked when I’d be playing. And he sure as fuck never showed up to a game to watch me.”
Logan draws my attention to him, his eyes boring into mine. As if he wants me to hear each individual word he says, they fire out one at a time, punctuated by a squeeze of his hand. “His. Fucking. Loss.”
His vehement support hits me square in the chest. I stare at him. “You really believe that?”
“Fuck yeah I do.”
I tear my eyes from his gaze, forcing myself to watch the remainder of the inning play out. It doesn’t take long—or maybe it’s simply that I’m preoccupied by whatever the end of the game will bring.
Turns out I was dead right to be worried. After our team’s victory, I watch Logan and the rest of the team who played today slap hands with the other team before heading back to the dugout.
I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, giving the guys pats on their backs and smiles of congratulations before turning to slip away. There’s no reason for me to hang out at this point. This is Logan’s victory. His day. And I’m fine with that. But I won’t subject myself to witnessing my father shower Logan with compliments when he’s made a point of ignoring my entire collegiate baseball career.
Unfortunately, there’s only one way out of here, and my father and Jamie are already heading in this direction, blocking my path of escape. Fuck. I huff out a breath as they approach, giving them a tight smile. My eyes flick past them, to Rya, who has stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening as she realizes who is in front of her.
There’s a literal traffic jam of bodies, and before I know it, my dad and Jamie are on me. My father’s keen eyes assess my rigid stance, and he gives me a curt nod. “Jaxon.” He sidesteps another family and in doing so, grasps my elbow, tugging me off to the side.
“Hi, honey.” Jamie’s sweet voice assaults my ears, and I wince, my jaw going rigid at the endearment. I’ve never been nasty to Jamie, even after what she did to my family. I chose to focus my angst and pain on Logan, instead, figuring I’d get to her in a roundabout way. My brow furrows, and I step forward, awkwardly giving her a one-armed hug. She gives me a tight squeeze. “Your dad thought we should come see Logan play—you know, since it’s his first game and all.”
Before I can say a word, my father aims a steely glare at me. “I see it in your eyes, son. Watch what you say.”
I huff out a derisive laugh. “In public, you mean? Because when have we ever minced words in private?”
His eyes narrow, accentuating the crinkles at the edges. The hair at his temples has begun to gray, too. For fifty, he’s in good shape, just finally showing a few signs of aging. “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Poor Jamie is bewildered by the entire exchange, which only serves to irritate me… and to be honest, it’s also kind of confusing.
“Hey.” Logan steps in the middle of our quaint family gathering, and I note Rya is standing off to the side looking on as well. “I’m surprised you’re here.” Logan gathers his mother to him in a quick hug.
“Oh, Eric said he thought we should come. I was going to attend a luncheon, but he insisted I should be here for your first game, honey. Good job. I don’t claim to know what I was watching, but your team won, so I assume you did well.”
“He did great.” My father gives Logan an approving nod. “He’s improved by leaps and bounds from what I could see.”
Logan’s eyes skate to mine. “Thanks. It’s done me a lot of good to practice with more experienced pitchers.”
“Don’t blow smoke up my ass,” I grind out.
“I’m not.” He plucks his ball cap from his head, smacking it against his thigh. His unruly hair is sweat dampened despite the cold.
Jamie’s eyes find mine. “I’ve been trying to reach your mother to see if she’d like to come to dinner. Could you ask her if she’s getting my texts?”
There’s a rumbling in my chest, much like a volcano before it spews lava. My insides bubble and burn with the desire to lash out. But?—
“Mom. I think that might be asking a lot of Macie. Maybe you and I can talk about it later.” Once she nods her understanding, Logan seeks me out from the corner of his eye, his teeth clenched shut.
“Oh. Well, okay.” She gives her son a sunny smile, and it hits me for the first time… she might be clueless. It’s really fucking concerning. And because I’m fucking perplexed by the realization, I totally miss Jamie’s eyes landing on Rya behind me. She waves first, then beckons to her. “Oh, Rya! I didn’t see you over there. Come here, honey!”
Rya’s expression is understandably anxious as she steps close to Logan. “Hi, Mrs. Ledger.”
“You know you can call me Jamie. You and Logan have been close for so long.” She glances between the two of them, then down, and I can’t tell what she’s seeing until a broad grin spreads across her cheeks. “Oh my goodness, have you two finally made the leap?”
Logan has Rya’s hand in his, firmly anchoring her—and also relaying to our parents that they are together. I heave out a breath. Not long ago, I would have blamed Logan for this, feeling rage so keen and intense, it’d send me into a week-long spiral. I would have plotted more ways to hurt him. But all I can do in this moment is shake my head, because there’s no way in fuck I’m ready to let my father know a damn thing about the delicate, tenuous state of the relationship the three of us are navigating.
Without waiting for an answer, my father drawls, “Well, this is wonderful, son. We love Rya for you. I was going to ask if we could take you out for a nice dinner to celebrate, but Rya should come along.”
An unsteady breath exits my lungs in fits and starts, and I close my eyes against the look of fatherly pride on my father’s face. It wrenches at my gut and has my head screaming. Why? Why not me?
This isn’t Logan’s fault any more than it’s Rya’s. This is my father shunning me, once again, like he’s done every day of my life. I turn away, unable to stand here and listen another minute. I stride carefully through the crowd, picking my way around the various other families until I finally break free of the post-game pandemonium.
I’m walking briskly in the direction of the locker room with hands shoved into my pockets when Rya’s voice reaches me. “Jaxon! Wait! Wait up!”
Spinning on my heel, I’m surprised to find not only Rya but also Logan barreling toward me. Not too much farther back, my father and Jamie have also exited the stadium, though they’re in conversation and not paying attention to anyone but each other. “Would you hold on a sec?” Logan grabs my arm, and my first inclination is to jerk myself free, but the concern on his face has me allowing whatever this is. I’ll listen. But I can guarantee I probably am not in the mood to hear it. He drags me with him, Rya hurrying to keep up on my other side. “Over here.” We duck around the corner of one of the sports complexes, and Logan skids to a stop as soon as we’re out of sight, whirling back toward me.
I hold up my hands, reversing a step once he’s released me from his vise grip. “It’s fine. Go to dinner with them. You deserve it. You did well today.”
Logan shakes his head. “Oh, I’m going to go. It kept the peace for a hot minute to agree to it. There’s other shit I intend to talk to him about, anyway.” My brow arches, but before I can question him, he murmurs, “I’ll explain later. I’ve gotta shower and change. They’re waiting on me.” His eyes probe mine, like he’s trying to poke around in my head to see how I’m really feeling about all this. “And once I’ve had my say with him, I intend to ask my mother about a few things, too.”
My eyes crash shut, and I throw a hand out. “By the way, I didn’t mean to upset her by not answering her texts. But I knew if I opened my mouth, I might say something we all regretted. Don’t fucking ask me why I felt the need to protect her from that. I don’t understand it myself.” I wet my lips, shrugging as I open my eyes again to meet his.
“My mom—” Logan’s voice catches.
Rya shivers, anxiously watching the volley of our conversation. The temperature has dipped substantially now that the sun has gone down. I hate that she’s worried, and I reach for her hand, hoping to dispel some of her nerves. “You guys should go. I’ll be fine.”
Eyes bright, Rya shakes her head as she murmurs, “No, Jaxon. I’m staying with you. I already told them I had other plans. We talked about getting dinner together after the game. I’ve been excited for it all afternoon.”
My lips part in surprise. “Oh.” My gaze flicks from her reassuring one to Logan’s. A moment later, he hooks an arm around my neck, tugging me close. The rise and fall of his chest against my arm as he tips his forehead to meet mine is enough to render me speechless. What the fuck is going on here ? And… why do I need it so fucking bad ? I have the sudden urge to shove him from me, just because it’s all I’ve ever known.
Almost as if he senses my train of thought, Logan releases me and backs away, his eyes hot on both of us. “Take care of our girl. I’ll come find you when I get back.” With that, he turns and jogs away, that ass in his baseball pants stirring something in me like it never has before. Shit . I’m so screwed because the truth is blaring at me from all angles. I need the girl at my side. And I might need my dickweed stepbrother, too.