44. Nico
forty-four
Nico
The same uneasy feeling that woke me up in the middle of the night is back as I lie on my back while being tortured by Doug, the team’s new physical therapist trainee.
I don’t know what it is, but something feels off today.
Probably because I haven’t been able to get in touch with Savannah since last night.
She stopped texting in the middle of our conversation.
It scared the shit out of me at first, then I had to remind myself that she runs an entire department and every nurse, every doctor, every little patient, depends on her.
From what little I saw while I was at the hospital, Savannah is the heart and soul of the pediatrics department. She’s amazing at what she does, and everyone adores her. Not surprising. Savannah is a total badass with the biggest, most tender heart.
Still, I hate when I haven’t spoken to her, but I know she’s home, safe and sound. Like the stalker I am, I checked the security cameras in the parking garage. Her car is parked in its spot, as it should be.
Doug rotates my leg to open my hip, and something pops. “Fuck.”
“Sorry, Mr. Romero.” Doug winces, hands raised in surrender.
Sorry, my ass. I’m about to snap his fucking neck.
“It’s fine. Keep going,” I grunt. Doug continues, and I breathe through the rest of the set.
I fucking hate these stretches, but they are a necessary evil. I’ve got my pre-game routine of mobility stretches for my knees, hips, and back down to a science. While it’s a brutal routine, I don’t deviate. It’s worth enduring the pain when I walk away feeling ready to play.
Cam rushes into the PT room, looking frazzled and angry as he heads my way, the rest of the guys right behind him. Cam shouts at Doug to take a hike, who hightails it out of the PT room.
I sit up. “What’s wrong? Is Talia okay?”
“She’s fine. But something is wrong,” he says, no hint of teasing, which isn’t like my brother-in-law, who’s always a happy jokester. Which means something bad has happened.
The uneasiness I’ve felt in my stomach all day turns into a ball of lead.
“What is it?” I ask.
Cam looks to the guys for guidance.
“Just show him,” Heath says.
Cam pulls up something on the screen of his phone and turns it around for me to see. It’s a video of some chick riding some guy, and I push it away. “What the fuck, dude? I’m not into porn before games.”
“Guys, I think Romero needs context,” Lance says.
Heath rubs his jawbone, mulling over his words before he speaks. “That isn’t porn; it’s a leaked sex tape of you.”
No fucking way.
“What the fuck? Let me see that.” I grab Cam’s phone and press play.
The guys crowd around me as we watch the video. Dirty fuckers. The video is black and white, and kind of grainy. It’s only a minute long, but it ends with the woman shouting my name and throwing her head back. A woman I know intimately.
What the fuck is going on?
“Okay, I know the woman. Her name is Alessia,” I admit.
“Oh, the underwear model. Nice one, Romero,” Reed says.
“Wait, does the room look familiar to anyone else?” Blake asks.
“Yes. The Seattle hotel,” Lance replies.
Blake claps his hands. “Yes. Dude, weren’t we just there? Wait, you cheated on your girl while we were in Seattle?”
“No! Fuck no! And that’s not me?” I bellow.
“The guy looks like you. Look at the tats.” Reed replays a part of the video and pauses it.
“I’ll give you that, but…” I stop talking and stare. I know those tattoos.
“But what?” Cam asks.
Fuck.
I never talk about my private life with anyone. I joke and make comments, but no one knows for sure what I’m into. The cat’s going to be out of the bag now. “Well, for starters, I don’t let the women I fuck touch and kiss me. And they are never on top.”
“Well, shit. I didn’t know you were a kinky fucker.” Reed chuckles as he slaps me on the back.
I slap his hand away. “Fuck off.”
“No judgment here. I have a few of my own proclivities but, my guy, the entire fucking internet thinks it’s you and that you cheated on your girl. Did you know she’s related to the most prominent medical family in the US?”
“Maybe,” I grunt. A memory of the ex-douche mentioning this pops into my head. I never looked into the claim he made. Not my business. Nor do I care who Savannah’s family is. They have no bearing on my feelings for her.
“Yeah, her mom made a synthetic patch that helps repair heart valves during open heart surgery or some crazy shit like that,” Heath says. “You should read the article. Just ignore the stuff about cheating.”
“Thanks.” Well, that explains Savannah’s ex and why she doesn’t talk about her family very much. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about them and what they do. All I care about is Savannah.
Savannah.
Fucking hell, she probably thinks the guy in the video is me, and that I did her dirty and cheated. I watch the video again, and that’s when I see it.
“Holy shit!” I jump off the massage table and toss Cam his phone. “Look at that guy’s neck and look at my neck.”
Cam expands the video, and all the guys lean in. Their eyes bounce between the video and me.
It’s Heath who notices first. “The guy in the video has a tiger tattoo, and you have a lion. You know who this is, don’t you?”
“So do all of you.” I knew that fucker was up to something, but this is low even for him.
“It’s that son of a bitch, Damien,” Lance growls.
“Yep. I need to get the fuck out of here and get home to my woman.”
“Dude, we have a game. You can’t go anywhere.” Reed glances around the group, waiting for someone to back him up. No one does.
“Romero!” The deep rumbling voice of our coach cuts through the air. “Get your ass over here!”
I approach Coach Anson with the guys behind me. “Yeah, Skip?”
“Don’t ‘yeah, Skip’ me,” he mocks. He holds up his phone, with the headline that reads Catch Baseball’s Bad Boy Nico Romero in leaked Sex Tape Scandal.
“Fucking hell,” I groan. “I swear, that’s not me.”
“I know, you dumb fuck. Anyone who knows you can see the tattoos aren’t the damn same. But try explaining that to the front office. They are up my ass and fuming.” I knew Anson was perceptive, but his attention to detail is impressive. Also, it’s worrisome. He watched the video in full.
“Sorry, Coach, but I can’t help you. I have to get home.” I try to shove past him, but Anson lays a thick, leathery hand on my chest.
“What the hell are you on about? We have a game in a couple of hours, son.”
“Don’t care. I need to get home to my woman,” I explain.
Anson places his hands on his hips and sighs. “You can’t leave. You’ll be fined. Maybe worse.”
I shrug. “Fine with me. But you can’t stop me. Fire me if you must. But either way, I’m getting home to my girl. She’s the one, Coach. I’m going to marry her. Well, I will if she doesn’t kick me to the curb first.”
“Well, shave my mustache as smooth as a baby’s ass. I never thought I’d hear you talk about a woman like that.” He rubs his thumb and pointer finger over his mustache. “I think I can make something work. Go on, get out of here. But limp. Then we can put you on the injured list pending a physical.”
“You can do that?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Anson chuckles. “No, but I’m going to. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind. And lie low. I don’t want to see any other crap about you online, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Anson gives my shoulder a squeeze, turns on his heel, and walks out of the PT room.
Reed is the first to break the silence in the room. “You’re not seriously going to leave, are you?”
I turn around to face him. I’m shocked by the words that fall out of my mouth, but I mean every one of them. “I am. Some things are more important than baseball. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll understand one day.”
“Fuck yeah. Go get your girl, bro,” Cam cheers. I roll my eyes at him, and he barks a laugh.
“Wait. How the hell are you going to get to LA?” Lance asks.
“No idea.” I place my hands on my hips. We’re in Colorado. I can’t just drive home; that would take me a whole fucking day.
“I got you,” Cam says. He gets on the phone and calls his brother.
“Eli, Romero needs a favor.” He fills his brother in on the situation, and explains that I need help to get the video down and a plane for me to get home.
He hangs up and grins. “It’s all set. My brother’s business partner owns a private plane. He’ll send a car for you.”
“Thank you, brother. I owe you one.”
Cam crows with laughter. “Unnecessary. But you owe Eli one. Actually, he said three. You owe him three favors for this.”
“Fine.” It can’t be too bad, can it? I look at Cam, whose grin has turned villainous.
Maybe it is. Fuck it. I’d do anything to get to Savannah right now.
“When he calls in those favors, and he will someday, just do what he says, or he’ll make your life a living hell. Now get out of here. Blake will pack your stuff and take it home.”
“I will?” he asks, scratching his head.
“Yep. The youngest in the group is the luggage bitch,” Cam says.
“Asshole,” Blake grumbles.
“Thank you, guys. I—” I exhale, losing the words on the tip of my tongue.
“We know,” Heath says.
The guys all nod in agreement.
These men are my brothers. They have my back on and off the field. It’s an incredible feeling, being a part of something bigger than a baseball team.
We all share a smile.
“Okay, then.” My voice cracks with unspoken emotion, and I clear my throat. “I’ll see you guys at home.”
“Dude, just get your sappy, love-struck ass outta here already.” Reed fights a smile as he shoves me out the door.
I leave my brothers behind and make my way to the back entrance of the stadium. I don’t know how, but a car is already waiting for me as I sneak out. It feels strange leaving all of my belongings behind, but none of it matters if I don’t have Savannah.
The driver whips through the streets and onto the freeway towards the airport as I lay my head back and close my eyes, fighting off a migraine. I’m really fucking scared Savannah has seen the video and thinks it’s me. I would never do that to her.
That woman is my everything.
I hope like hell she’ll listen to me long enough to let me explain and forgive me for dragging her and her family into this mess with Damien.
Then I’m going after that motherfucker.
He’s going to pay for hurting the woman I love.