Chapter 26
MAVERICK
I’m out on the turf, shagging balls with some guys in the outfield during a low-key practice the team is having on a rare day off between games. With the season drawing to an end, and playoffs in sight, they’re all tired.
Not me. I’m ready to fucking go. The sun is shining, my shoulder feels good, and I made Sadie come three times in a row last night.
For once, I feel like shit is going my way.
“What’s this? You comin’ for my position, Mav?
” Darling shouts as he ambles up to the group of us in the outfield.
The guy I was tossing back and forth with jogs over, slapping Darling’s held-up hand as he passes by to take his place at batting practice.
“Maybe I’ll try taking over the hot corner and let you handle all the shit that gets by you infielders for a change. ”
Rhett’s smiling, and his tone is obviously teasing. And instead of scowling like I normally would, my good mood has me firing back at him.
“Sure. Consider this my tryout. I mean, how hard can it fucking be when you shitheads have all the time in the world to make a catch out here.”
Darling throws his head back and laughs. “Damn, man. Don’t hold back!”
I smirk and whip the ball at him. “I won’t.”
We fall into an easy rhythm, increasing the distance between us every few throws.
Until he throws one that looks like it’s going to veer left and I lunge to make the catch.
The ball hits the tip of my glove, bouncing right back out.
And momentum carries me forward and down, making me land on my bad shoulder with a loud oomph.
“Mav!” Rhett’s shout registers as I roll onto my back, cradling my arm.
Fuck. White-hot pain lashes my shoulder as I struggle to contain my rage and agony. One stupid move. One fucking idiotic moment of needing to prove myself, and I’ve just fucked everything up.
My teammates reach me and try to help me get up, but I push them away with a growl. Staggering to my feet, I see Coach and Lark hurrying over.
“What the hell happened?” Coach barks.
Darling answers for me as Lark takes my arm and supports it gently, probing her way up my bicep.
“My throw went wide; he went for it but landed wrong.”
“Jesus Christ, Mav. Go with Lark and get everything looked at.” Coach pulls his hat off his bald head, then shoves it back on. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes, but he can’t hide it. He thinks I’m done for.
I shrug off Lark’s touch. “Fine.” I abandon my glove and hat that fell off at some point and storm off the field, every step shooting daggers of pain through my body. I can’t fucking believe this is happening.
I hit the dugout, ignoring everyone’s concerned questions about what happened and go into the locker room where I start to pace. I know I’m meant to go straight to the trainer’s area for an assessment, Doc might even be waiting for me if Lark’s texted him. But I can’t face them. Not yet.
“Fuck!” I shout. “Goddamn it!” I kick over the empty container waiting for all of our dirty practice gear. There’s a pounding in my ears as I move to the wall, lifting my good arm, ready to put a fucking hole in the cement.
“Maverick!”
Somehow, Sadie’s voice reaches down through the tunnel I feel like I’m in, pulling me out of the darkness. When the rage lifts, my vision clears, and I see her standing in front of me, arm outstretched. I let her take my hand and pull me into her soft body.
“Oh, Maverick,” she murmurs as my head falls to her shoulder. “Are you okay? I saw you go down. Willow got me in here as quickly as she could.”
I didn’t even realize she was watching us practice. Humiliation that she saw me fall mixes with overwhelming relief that she’s here.
We stay like that for several minutes, my good arm holding her to me, my head on her shoulder, her hand stroking up and down my back, and her voice whispering softly in my ear. Saying what? I don’t know. But it somehow soothes me.
“Mav, we need to get your arm looked at.”
I lift my head at Lark’s voice. When Sadie goes to step away from me, I pull her back. “Come with me. Please,” I say in a hoarse whisper. Lifting her hand to stroke my hair away from my face, she nods.
Together we follow Lark down the long hallways in the belly of the stadium until we reach the assessment area. We head straight for one of the treatment tables just as Doc walks in.
“Okay, Mav, let’s do some quick range tests, then we’ll get an X-ray to make sure everything’s good. I hear you came down pretty hard on that shoulder.”
Doc’s tone doesn’t reveal anything, which doesn’t help my anxiety. Only Sadie’s presence at my side is stopping me from spiraling even further than I did in the locker room.
She stopped my impulsive rage in its tracks. I would have done something stupid, trashed the locker room or punched the goddamn wall, if it weren’t for her.
I let Lark move my arm through a series of positions, wincing only once.
“Good. Let’s get those images and see what we’re dealing with.”
Sadie stays behind, her arms wrapped around her middle as I follow Doc and Lark into another room. Thankfully, the X-ray is done quickly and then I’m back at her side. She takes my hand in both of hers, lacing our fingers together. I don’t hesitate to accept any and all comfort she’s offering.
We’re silent as we wait for Doc.
He doesn’t take long, and this time when he walks in, he’s smiling.
“Good news. No damage to your clavicle. It still looks well-healed. I think you jarred things, and there’s no question that would hurt, but nothing looks amiss.
I’d say call it for today, ice that shoulder, and you’re still on track to play next week. ”
I exhale loudly. “Thank fuck.” My head falls forward as I hear Sadie asking some questions. I can’t focus on what they’re saying because my head is spinning with relief.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Sadie tugs on my hand, and I lift my head to realize we’re alone.
She’s standing in front of me, and I pull her in between my legs.
With me still seated, my head hits her at chest level and I don’t think twice about laying it down against her soft body, carefully wrapping both arms around her, and sinking into her warmth.
I feel her gently playing with my hair and all the emotion of the past hour seeps out of me, leaving me completely exhausted.
She steps back and this time I let her pull me up to stand. We walk to the locker room where I notice someone has already cleaned up the shit I kicked over. Sadie goes to my locker, grabs my backpack, and looks over her shoulder at me. “Do you need anything else?”
I shake my head no.
We leave the stadium. I still haven’t said anything since Doc told me I didn’t reinjure my shoulder. I should probably say something to the woman beside me whose calm comfort has settled me and stopped me from doing something stupid.
But I don’t. Instead, I let her lead me over to her car and open the passenger door. I sink down and stare out the front window at the stadium.
It’s only when Sadie turns on the engine that I turn to face her.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For being there.” It’s a pitiful statement, barely scratching the surface of what I’m feeling, but with her, I know it’ll be enough. I know she’ll get what I’m not saying.
Because somehow, Sadie LeDuc knows me. Better than anyone. Better than I know myself.
And today, she showed me that I’m not alone. I have a person now. Someone in my life, just for me, who’s not there to benefit from me, but is there just because they want to be.
Someone who makes me feel like it’s okay to relax and let go. Because she’ll be there, by my side.