Chapter 23
23
[Bolan]
W hen I consider Ruthie’s return to California, even for a few days, I’m not happy. Jared and Nylah don’t need to see Ruthie in person, and I start to think maybe Ruthie just wants a break from me.
The insecurity escalates in my head when I see Ruthie standing outside the stadium after one of our final games, waiting on me but chatting with Romero Valdez.
From a distance, he’s standing too close to her. Her head is bent forward, hair shielding the side of her face. She has Tulane in her arms, like my catcher’s chest protector around her midsection. Tulane’s head is tucked into Ruthie’s neck and her legs dangle on either side of Ruthie’s hips. She looks fragile compared to him.
As my pace picks up, I note how Ruthie’s shoulders hunch forward as well, like she’s cornered by him, closing in on herself. A shell around Tulane. Her feet shuffle like she’s uncomfortable and wants to get away from him and she shifts Tulane against her front. Romero reaches out for that long loose hair and Ruthie flinches back, taking a step away from him. His hand stalls in mid-air, and I race to close the final distance between us.
“What the fuck?” I hiss as I skid to a stop in my cleats between Ruthie and him. We’re teammates and I’m trying not to cause additional trouble for Romero. But I don’t trust the guy. Our team already has a slim crack in it, and he and I are going to have a big problem if he thinks he can touch my wife.
“Just having a little talk with your pretty girl,” Romero says, shifting his gaze to look around me at Ruthie.
I glance at her over my shoulder, sensing she’s uncomfortable. Puffing out my chest, I stand to my full height which is a good six inches taller than my shortstop.
“You got something to say to my wife, you say it to me.” I narrow my eyes at his dark ones. Ones that dance with mirth. He’s a fucking instigator.
“Think Ruthie can speak for herself,” Romero glances around my shoulder again, but I shift my body to block his view.
“Everything alright here?” Ford Sylver’s soft mountain drawl comes from somewhere beside me.
“Just getting to know the family members of my teammates,” Romero says, turning his gaze from me to Ford and smiling extra wide.
“Get the fuck away from my family,” I mutter, lowering my voice as others are nearby. The warning in my tone is clear, though.
“Bolan,” Ruthie quietly states behind me, but I don’t move. I want him away from her. Away from me.
Dalton Ryatt approaches next, placing his arm around Romero’s shoulders and not so gently moving him along .
“What a fucker,” Ford murmurs as Dalton guides Romero toward the clubhouse. “You okay, Ruthie?”
I spin to face her, placing my hands on her shoulders before scanning down her body, like Romero actually touched her somewhere.
I’ll kill him.
“I’m okay,” she answers Ford with a shaky breath, and she shivers beneath my touch.
“What did he say? What did he want?” I demand.
“He just asked me about Tulane. How old she is. Told me how cute she is.” Ruthie turns her head and presses a kiss to Tulane’s head, flicking her gaze toward Ford.
I’m sensing that isn’t all he said to her, and Ford pats my shoulder, before walking away to give me the privacy I need with her.
“It wasn’t a big deal.”
“He tried to touch you.” I slide my hands from her shoulders down her arms. “That’s a big fucking deal.”
“My hair blew in my face.”
“Flower.” I stare at her. “Never lie to me.”
She exhales and glances away from me. “He also said he couldn’t believe I had Tulane less than two years ago. Not with a body like mine.”
He’s dead. We’re in the middle of the desert. No one will find his body.
Ruthie’s eyes are full of pain. His words a pinch at the truth. Tulane is not her child, biologically, and I’d said something to the same effect the other night.
“Shit, Ruthie. I’m so sorry.” I tug her to me, sweaty uniform be damned, and lower my lips for her head.
“I’m fine. It’s fine.” She pulls back too soon, trying to reassure me but her eyes are cloudy.
“Baby, you don’t look fine.” I brush my thumb along her cheek and pinch her chin .
“It happens.” She shrugs. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”
My entire body goes rigid, realizing we aren’t talking about motherhood and Tulane anymore. “What do you mean it’s happened before? What did he do?”
I’m going to bury him so deep in the earth even a coyote won’t find his remains.
“Not him.”
The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise. There’s a story here and I want to hear it but not in the middle of the back lot of the stadium.
“Tonight, you’ll tell me everything.” Then I lean forward and steal a kiss, knowing I might need it more than her.