30. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
Keaton
I clung to the railing as I fled down the stairs, my ticker raging inside my chest. For once it had nothing to do with my fear of heights. This was the first time I walked away from an opportunity to get intimate with a woman. The second, if I counted the redhead at the gala. Why, I had no idea. I’d wanted it—still did—but it had felt . . . wrong.
Downstairs, I made a beeline for the garage and slid into my Elysium. The drive to the batting cage let me breathe a little easier, and by the time I faced the pitching machine illuminated by floodlights, I could think straight again. Lightning shredded the darkness far out over the ocean, followed by the rumbling of thunder. The doubles teams over at the tennis court continued their match unfazed. Apart from us, no one was here.
A baseball shot my way. Fastball.
I swung, the cowhide connecting with my Victus. Thwack!
What was wrong with me? Since when did I care about feelings? Since when did I have feelings? I clearly did, or I wouldn’t be so scared to break Layne’s heart.
And I was scared of the commitment, even if it was just for a year. What if I started liking her? Like, really liking her? I already got a kick out of being around her. Kissing her.
That kiss.
Man.
Had it screwed me over so much because I’d been abstinent for a month, or because of Layne?
Probably both.
The pitching machine spat a curveball.
I hit it.
Would it be that bad if I started liking Layne?
Muttering an oath, I turned off the pitching machine and sat on the concrete floor, back against the wire mesh of the cage. I pulled my phone out of my slacks and looked at the image of me and Layne. We’d been taking photos over the past few weeks for proof once we had the green card interview, and I’d made it my lock screen because that’s what a good husband would do.
“Figured I’d find you here.”
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Dalton approaching the cage. He wore gym shorts and a tank top, a black Axe bat in hand.
“Called you, but you didn’t pick up,” he said, as he entered the cage.
Because I’d been busy kissing Layne. “What’s up?”
“Been a while.” Grunting, Dalton sank down next to me. His shorts rode up, revealing several scars on his left thigh over his knee. The result of an IED blowing up right next to him, which had also left a nasty mark on his face. And ended his career as a Navy SEAL. “You look rough. Trouble in paradise?”
I ran a hand through my sweaty hair and blew out a breath. “Nah, no trouble. Just . . .”
Thunder rumbled, closer than before. A gust of wind carrying the smell of salt water swayed the fronds of the squat palm trees behind the cage.
“Just what?” Dalton asked.
“I like her, man.”
“Sure hope so. She’s your wife.”
“What if I fail her?” I uttered the words I hadn’t dared to say out loud until now. “I suck at relationships.”
Resting his arms on his knees, Dalton nodded. “You will fail her.”
I cocked my head. “Appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“You will fail her because you’re human. We all make mistakes. I got a taste of your fist for mine, remember?”
Leaning my head against the wire mesh, I chuckled. “You deserved that.” He’d broken Kimball’s heart in high school. I’d broken his jaw in return.
“The only way you’ll botch this is if you let her go.”
I didn’t agree, but still wanted to give Layne and me a chance. She was . . . special. Whatever she exuded—it put me at ease. And she made me laugh. Not to mention the way she had my blood pumping.
But I couldn’t be the husband she needed. Cater to her physical and existential needs? No problem. The issue was the emotional level. I was too screwed up, too emotionally unavailable to be what she needed. I would fail her in a way Dalton couldn’t understand.
Staying away from her was the only option, even if it killed me.
My phone buzzed, and I dug it out of my slacks.
I know about Alfie Rasmussen.
Gritting my teeth, I squeezed the device. How had the Psycho found out about Alfie? Nobody knew about him. Not my family, not my friends, most definitely not Ian.
Another message came in.
And maybe you should invest in some curtains for the upstairs bedroom. You and your wife put on quite the show.
I exploded to my feet. Cursed. Had he breached my security system and gotten on the property, or how on earth had he seen me and Layne?
“What’s going on?” Dalton also stood, his brown eyes intense.
“Nothing. It’s . . . nothing.” Crap. I wanted to tell him but couldn’t. I couldn’t tell anyone, because if I did, they’d get sucked into this mess with me.
It was my battle, and I had to fight it alone.