Chapter 46
Chapter Forty-Six
Foster
When the stadium goes black and the sound system plays “Crazy Train” by Ozzy Osbourne, adrenaline pumps through my veins. I’m more excited to go out there than I’ve been in months.
I want to see her right there behind home plate. I want to see her smile and hear her cheering for me.
As I cross the field, my eyes search her out as Art checks my glove and hands, but I’m not close enough. Hayes, Easton, Decker, and the rest of the infield wait for me on the mound. Ripley holds the game ball in his hand, and I blindly hold out my palm. He places it there.
Hayes says something to me that I don’t really hear because I’m searching the crowd, and when my eyes find her, as cheesy as it sounds, calmness flows through my body. Now all I care about is ending this game and going to dinner with our friends with her next to me.
I’m not thinking about strikes or balls. My slider or my fastball.
I’m thinking about us returning to the condo tonight.
Until I see who she’s talking to.
All that elation gets smothered with a hundred-pound weight because sitting right next to her is Penelope Ripley.
My hand clenches around the ball.
I’m fucked.