Chapter 44
Rhys squatted down, feeling one of his knees creak slightly.
He’d need to stretch that leg out some more.
For now he held his glove up and signaled for a slider.
Isaac went into his windup and released the ball.
A little too early and it went well outside of the strike zone.
If this had been an actual game. Rhys lunged to the side to grab it and then popped back up to his feet.
He pushed up his mask and approached the makeshift mound. “I know,” Isaac said. “I keep trying with that, and I just can’t find my target. I should stop even using it. I’ve got a good fastball. I should stick with that.”
Rhys shook his head. “Your change-up is awesome, too. And you have a devastating cutter. The slider just isn’t your pitch. You can still induce swings with it. Just need to work on your timing so it doesn’t slide quite so much.”
Isaac let out a rough laugh. “Just maybe not on game day?”
“Yeah,” Rhys said, “not on game day. I’ll work on it with you on a day off. How about we practice some more of that change up. You’ll probably be using it a lot today.”
“You’re a good guy, Rhys.”
The words shouldn’t have felt like a gut punch.
It was a compliment. All he could hear were Craig’s words from that email.
You always have been selfish. He’d deleted the message without reading the rest of it, but he couldn’t get those words out of his head.
Are you still stupid? He worked up a smile for Isaac, then pulled his mask down.
He could be a good teammate no matter what else was going on in his life. Would anyone ever see anything else? Or was he worthless when he was off the field?
He shoved that out of his head as he squatted back into position. The steady smack of the ball into his glove took his mind away from those dark swirling thoughts and put him back where he was supposed to be.
By the time Turner called them back toward the dugout, Rhys felt almost steady.
Until Turner held him back while the rest of the team started for the clubhouse.
Turner didn’t say anything at first, just studied him.
It made him want to fidget, but that would make Turner think something was wrong.
He worked up a grin. “I know I’m pretty, Skip, but you’re going to give me a complex if you keep staring at me. ”
Turner let out a huff of breath, and Rhys was sure the older man rolled his eyes.
Rhys had to bite the inside of his cheek not to burst out laughing at the expression.
His humor took a diving leap when Turner said, “At least you look better than you did on the bus yesterday. Thought we were gonna have to bench you for the series. Still want you to talk to Brady, though.”
“Come on, Skip, I’m fine. I did good last week, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Turner admitted. “I want you to keep doing good. Even when you’re not on the field. Don’t think I didn’t notice as soon as the game was over, your mood took a sharp turn. Just because you think no one is watching doesn’t make it true.”
Damn it. Did that mean he had to keep the facade up unless he was alone in his apartment? Rhys didn’t know if he could manage that. “I am fine.”
“Good. Then, it won’t be a problem for you to have a quick conversation with Brady. I’d like to start you today, but not if it’s going to be detrimental to your health.”
Baseball was never detrimental to his health. Not playing was. No one ever understood that. “Fine,” Rhys said. “I’ll talk to him.” Not that it seemed like he had any other choice.
Rhys headed into the visitor’s clubhouse but avoided the lounge. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Especially not Brady, but what choice had Turner given him? He couldn’t let the team down.
He gave a quick knock on a door that stood ajar and stepped inside. Brady looked up and gave a short nod. “Have a seat, Rhys.”
Rhys felt like something crawled over his skin as he did exactly that.
Brady’s office back at their own clubhouse was warm, almost inviting.
He wanted you to feel comfortable to sit down and talk to him.
Which brought its own sense of discomfort.
At least for Rhys. If he got too comfortable, how much would spill out of him?
But, this… it reminded him of the first time he’d been brought to the group home. The director’s office had been so sterile, no personal touches. As if he hadn’t wanted any of the kids there to know him.
Rhys could understand now why he’d wanted to keep that distance. As a kid who’d felt lost, like no one would ever care about him, it certainly hadn’t helped that everything had been so cold.
“How are you doing?” Brady asked, dragging Rhys out of his thoughts.
“Just fine.” He threw one heel up onto the desk. Brady eyed him, but Rhys shot him what he hoped was a winning smile. “Ready to play.”
“Uh huh,” Brady said. “You’re not having any trouble with being close to where you grew up? After what you told me last week—”
“It’s fine,” Rhys said, maybe a little too sharply to be believed. “This isn’t my home. It was never a home here. We’ll be here for six days and then we can go. I’m not stuck here.”
“No,” Brady said, his voice so soft it had Rhys’s eyes burning. “You aren’t stuck here. That doesn’t mean you have to be fine, though.”
Rhys knew repeating how fine he was wouldn’t make Brady believe him.
He wanted to play. If he lost that, he wasn’t sure how he would make it through until they were out of freaking Ohio again.
If he couldn’t handle this, would they think he couldn’t handle it when they were in Brentley two weeks from now.
It didn’t have as many memories for him, but that was where he’d spent the final years of his adolescence.
He didn’t want to have to go through all this again.
Brady didn’t speak for a long stretch of time, just sat with Rhys’s silence. Usually Rhys would have to fill it with a joke or something, but what if Brady took him seriously and that had him back on the bench. He could not deal with that. Not right now.
“You’ll come talk to me if you realize you aren’t handling things?”
“Of course,” Rhys said. “You know how much I like to talk.”
Brady gave him a stern look, but was that a twitch of his lips? Maybe Rhys imagined that. “Go on then. I’ll have a talk with Turner about what he wants to do.”
So, that wasn’t a sure thing on him starting. But, it did look better than when he’d come in here. Rhys would take it.