Chapter Twenty-five #2
Razor leaned her head out of the kitchen and checked on Summer.
She was curled on the couch, but at least she’d stopped crying, after two hours of silent sobbing.
In that time, she’d ordered take-out, which Summer ate little of, and sat vigil, in case Summer needed something.
She’d packed away the leftovers, feeling guilty looking at her fully stocked fridge and how it would probably be wasted now, then returned to the living room with a glass of water.
“Here. Drink this. It’ll help.”
Summer sat up and wiped her nose on her sleeve, her eyes puffy and red.
“Is it vodka?”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Summer raised the glass to her lips. “Vodka would be better.” She gulped down half, then set the glass on the table.
Razor sat next to her and rubbed her hands over her thighs. “So, I’m going to ask the most ridiculous question in the world right now. Are you okay?”
Summer scoffed and looked at the ceiling. “Am. I. Okay. I just came out to my father, who proceeded to say he was disappointed in me for being gay. And I broke up with my girlfriend a minute later. Do you think I’m okay?”
“Like I said, most ridiculous question on the planet, but I wanted to see where you are with all this.”
More tears fell.
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for getting upset.”
“You have every right to be. Coming out isn’t easy, and when you do, there’s no telling what the reaction will be. I’m not surprised you lashed out at Harper.”
Summer dropped her head into her hands. “Oh God. She must think I’m so horrible right now.”
Razor dipped her head to catch Summer’s gaze.
“Harper does not hate you. She understands that you’re hurting. What you have to understand, even though it doesn’t feel like it now, is that it will get better.”
“How? I’m all alone now.”
“You are not alone, Summer. You have the team, the coaches. And most of all, you have me. I’m not just your catcher, I’m your friend. I’ll always be in your corner.” Then she echoed the words that meant so much to her. “I’ll always catch you. I promise.”
Summer sobbed quietly into Razor’s shirt. They held each other tightly, drawing comfort and strength. When they pulled back, Razor’s eyes were wet too, and they were both exhausted.
“It’s been a long physically and emotionally draining day. We should try to get some rest.”
“I guess you’re right, but I really don’t want to go home. Can I stay here?”
“Of course. I’ll even give you the bedroom.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist. Go do what you need to do. I’ll wait out here.”
They maneuvered around each other, and then Summer walked to the bathroom. When the door clicked shut, Razor heaved a sigh and released the tension of the day.
She grabbed sheets and a pillow from the closet and made up the couch, then went to her bedroom to change into her pajamas.
She emptied her pockets and took off her pants, then checked her phone.
Four missed calls from Ashton, and one voicemail.
The guilt amplified—she hadn’t taken her phone off silent after leaving the game. She quickly dialed Ashton’s number.
“Razor. Thank God.”
“Hey you. I’m sorry I missed your calls,” she whispered as she walked back out to the living room. “Are you just now getting in?”
Ashton groaned. “Yes. Bad weather caused a delay of epic proportions.”
“I’m sorry. Was that what the voicemail was about?”
“No, it was about something else.” Ashton paused, and her heavy sigh traveled through the phone. “Razor, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
Now Razor was worried. “I’m always honest with you. What’s going on?”
“Is Summer there with you?”
Razor looked down the hallway. Now she was confused. “As a matter of fact, she is. How did you know?”
Another heavy sigh. “I got more pictures from that unknown number. They showed Summer crying and you helping her into your truck.”
Razor sat down in disbelief. “I don’t know who sent you those pictures, and I don’t know what their agenda is, but I promise you, there’s nothing going on between me and Summer. She argued with her dad after the game. She was upset, and I felt like I had to get her out of there.”
“What kind of argument? Is she hurt? Did he—”
“No, no. Nothing like that,” Razor cut in, trying to keep Ashton’s mind from thinking the worst of Bill. “Physically, she’s fine, but emotionally? She told him some news he wasn’t prepared to handle, and he got upset and drove off without talking about it.”
Razor could practically hear the wheels turning in Ashton’s head as the silence stretched out.
“I’m glad you were there for her,” Ashton whispered.
Razor’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Me, too. There were a lot of people gathering in the parking lot. Any one of them could’ve taken those pictures.”
“Obviously, the person who sent me these was the same one who sent me the ones earlier in the week.”
“But why? To what gain?”
“I don’t know. To cause suspicion to pull us apart? That’s the only thing I can come up with.”
Razor smiled. “I’m glad you have more faith in me than to let a series of pictures get between us.”
“It wasn’t just pictures I received.”
“Oh?”
“No.” Ashton paused again. Razor wished she would stop doing that because it was a dead giveaway she was about to drop a bombshell. “Nancy sent me a video of you hitting an umpire.”
Razor groaned. “Oh, that.”
“That? Razor, you assaulted him.”
“There’s more to the story than what is on that video.”
“Please, tell me.”
Razor opened her mouth, but the sound of the bathroom door opening, quickly followed by the bedroom door closing, prompted her to stop.
“Listen, it’s been a long day. For both of us. I have to drop Summer off tomorrow morning. Why don’t I text you when I’m heading that way, and I’ll come by and tell you everything”
Ashton sighed. “You’re right. It has been a day. And it’s not smart to discuss serious matters when tired.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. And Ashton?”
“Yes?”
Razor cradled the phone closer. “Thank you. For believing me.”