Chapter 41 #2
She does, sliding into home plate with unnecessary drama, laughing as I catch her around the waist.
“Show off,” I murmur.
“You love it,” she says, breathless and grinning.
I do. God help me, I really do.
The game continues—boys getting slightly better at fielding, girls continuing to dominate. Somewhere around the fourth inning, my phone buzzes.
Charles: Where is everyone? Sienna’s not answering.
I glance at Sienna, who’s checking her phone and grinning.
“Charles?” I ask.
“Yep. Wants to know where we are.” She types rapidly. “I’m telling him to come join us.”
“Sienna—”
“What? It’s not like you couldn’t use the backup in the outfield since you’re losing spectacularly.”
She’s not wrong.
Twenty minutes later, three cars pull into the parking lot. Charles, Cal, and Silas emerge, all of them looking slightly confused but amused.
“Dad!” Jimmy yells, running toward Charles.
“Uncle Cal! Uncle Silas!” Noah and Liam chorus, following.
The men scoop up the kids—Charles lifting Jimmy and Lottie, Silas grabbing both Noah and Liam somehow, Cal ruffling their hair—and make their way to the diamond.
“Please tell me you’re here to even the odds,” I say as they approach. “We’re getting destroyed.”
“By girls,” Liam adds solemnly.
“The shame,” Silas says, setting the boys down. “Can’t have that.”
“Ugh,” Parker scoffs, “it’d be an honor to lose to us ladies and you know it.”
“Boys versus girls?” Charles asks, surveying the field.
“We’re crushing them,” Parker confirms, leaning on her bat with a smug expression.
“Not for long,” Cal says, grabbing a glove.
The game resumes—now with actual defensive capability on the boys’ side. Charles in the outfield, Silas at third base, Cal at second, me catching, and the kids rotating between positions and batting.
The girls still hold their own—Parker especially, who seems to take great pleasure in hitting line drives directly at Cal, who has to dive to catch them.
“You’re doing that on purpose!” he yells after the third one.
“Prove it!” she calls back.
Sienna is an excellent base runner, making it home twice despite our improved defense. Lottie is still learning but having the time of her life, cheering every time anyone does anything remotely good.
After about an hour, we’re all tired, sweaty, and covered in dirt. The score is tied—mostly because we let the kids get on base no matter what, which inflated both teams’ runs.
Charles calls a break, and we all collapse on the grass near the diamond. The kids immediately start playing tag, their energy somehow still boundless.
I end up standing with Charles, Cal, and Silas near the bench, watching Parker help Lottie with her batting stance while Sienna refills water bottles.
“You’re surprisingly good with them,” Charles observes, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
“The boys?” I ask.
“All of them. But especially Parker’s kids.” He pauses. “All three of you, actually. I’ve been watching. You’re naturals.”
Silas snorts. “I’m not a natural at anything involving children.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Charles says. “Liam hasn’t left your side all afternoon except to bat.”
It’s true. Liam has been following Silas around like a puppy, asking him questions, showing him his throwing technique, begging for tips.
“The kid’s got good instincts,” Silas mutters, but there’s something soft in his expression.
“You’d all make good fathers one day,” Charles says, still watching the field. “When the time comes.”
The words hang in the air.
Cal clears his throat. “That’s... not really in the cards for us. The work we do, the life we lead—”
“The life you lead doesn’t have to be the life you always lead,” Charles interrupts. “Things change. People change. Priorities shift.” He glances at us. “And honestly? If Parker ended up with someone like you three instead of someone like Ryan Matthews? I’d consider that a win.”
My heart stops.
“Charles—” I start.
“I’m not blind, Jace.” His voice is quiet, pitched so only we can hear. “I see how you look at her. How she looks at you. All three of you.” He pauses. “And I see how you are with those boys. Like they’re already yours.”
None of us speak.
“I’m just saying,” Charles continues, “if things were to develop in that direction — hypothetically — you’d have my support. Better you three, who actually care about her and would protect her and those boys with your lives, than some entitled asshole who thinks she’s a strategic alliance.”
“We—” Cal starts, but Charles holds up a hand.
“You don’t have to confirm or deny anything.
I’m just telling you where I stand. The rest is between you and Parker.
” He turns to face us fully. “But those boys deserve fathers who will love them. And Parker deserves partners who will treat her like an equal instead of a pawn. Just... keep that in mind.”
Before any of us can respond, all four of our phones buzz simultaneously.
I grab mine, seeing the alert from our security system.
THREAT DETECTED - MULTIPLE HOSTILES - PARK PERIMETER
“Fuck,” Charles breathes, his expression going hard.
Silas is already moving, his hand going to the weapon concealed at his back. “How many?”
I’m pulling up the security feed on my phone, my tactical brain already cataloging exits, cover positions, evacuation routes. “At least six. Armed. Approaching from the east and north perimeters.”
“Get the kids,” Jace orders, his voice sharp and commanding.
But we’re too late.
The first shot cracks through the air—a sharp pop that echoes across the park.
Parker’s head snaps up, her eyes wide, already grabbing Lottie and dropping to the ground.
Sienna screams, diving for Jimmy.
The boys freeze, confused, not understanding what’s happening.
And then all hell breaks loose.
Bullets spray across the diamond, kicking up dirt, shattering the wooden bench, tearing through the chain-link fence behind home plate.
“DOWN!” I roar, running toward the kids.
Noah and Liam are still standing, paralyzed with fear.
I reach them in seconds, grabbing both boys and throwing myself over them, using my body as a shield as more shots ring out. We hit the ground hard, and I feel the impact of bullets hitting the dirt inches from where we landed.
Silas has reached Parker and Lottie, covering them with his body.
Cal is with Sienna and Jimmy, pulling them toward cover behind the dugout.
Charles has his weapon drawn, returning fire toward the tree line where muzzle flashes are lighting up the shadows.
Security is rushing from the parking lot—our guys, the ones who tail us everywhere we go, the protection Charles insists on. They engage the hostiles, bullets flying in both directions.
Under me, Noah is crying. Liam is shaking.
“It’s okay,” I tell them, my voice steady despite the chaos. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
More gunfire. Screaming. The sound of car alarms going off in the parking lot.
Then, as suddenly as it started, it stops.
Silence.
Heavy, ringing silence broken only by the sound of children crying and adults breathing hard.
“Clear!” one of our security guys yells. “Hostiles retreating! Three down, others fled!”
I don’t move yet. Don’t trust it.
“Jace.” Parker’s voice, strained. “Jace, are the boys—”
“They’re okay,” I call back, still covering them. “They’re okay.”
Slowly, carefully, I lift off Noah and Liam. Both boys immediately scramble toward their mother, who’s crawling toward us despite Silas trying to hold her back.
She reaches them, pulling them into her arms, checking them frantically for injuries.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” she’s murmuring, tears streaming down her face.
I stand, my hand going to my weapon, doing a quick perimeter check. Charles is on his phone, barking orders. Cal is checking Sienna and Jimmy for injuries. Silas is standing guard over Parker and the boys, his weapon still drawn, his expression murderous.
Lottie is crying in Sienna’s arms. Jimmy looks pale but unharmed.
Noah and Liam are terrified but not hurt.
No one is bleeding. No one is shot.
But the baseball equipment is destroyed, the dugout is riddled with bullet holes, and the chain-link fence looks like Swiss cheese.
This wasn’t random. This was targeted.
Someone just tried to kill us.
In a park. In broad daylight. With children present.
“Everyone in the cars,” Charles orders, his voice cold and hard. “Now. Security will sweep the area. We’re going home.”
No one argues.
Parker carries Liam, I carry Noah—the boy won’t let go of my neck—and we move quickly to the vehicles. Silas keeps Parker and the boys covered, his body between them and the tree line where the shots came from. Cal does the same for Sienna and her kids.
We pile into the SUVs, security forming a perimeter, weapons drawn.
As we pull out of the parking lot, I look back at the park.
At the destroyed baseball diamond.
At what was supposed to be a normal, happy family afternoon.
And I think about Charles’s words from earlier.
You’d all make good fathers one day.
Well.
Looks like we’re about to find out if that’s true a lot sooner than expected.
Because whoever just opened fire on us in that park?
They just made this very, very personal.