“What’s going on?” I yanked my arm out of the coach’s grip and tried to analyze the situation. My gut churned at the possibilities.They’re in it together and going to blackmail me. Or blackmail Jeff. Or the team. Or threaten me.I prepared for all the possibilities. “Regardless of what either of you say, the article is getting published. There is not a threat or offer that will sway me.”
Dean Sanders smiled and chuckled. “You weren’t kidding. She is headstrong.”
The coach relaxed into a chair but leveled his gaze with me. “You’re going to want to sit down.”
“I’ll stand, thank you.” I gripped the edge of the leather seat. “Well?”
“We need you to wait a couple more weeks before you post the article.”
“And why would I do that? To give you time to cover your asses?”
“Ha, no.” Dean Sanders shared a look with the coach. “You and Jeff Maddow aren’t the only ones aware of what’s going on. What we’re about to tell you… It must stay here.”
“Why would I agree to that?”
“This affects Jeff. You want to help him, don’t you?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you know first, hm?” I fired back, hoping they couldn’t see how hard my fingers shook. If something happened to Jeff…I couldn’t handle it.
27
JEFF
After telling the guys everything, I expected there to be a slight difference in how they treated me once we got to practice the next day. I kept waiting for it to come, a subtle hint like my time in the cages wasn’t as important as theirs or a comment about how much pressure they were under. That never happened and I smothered the guilty feeling that I’d underestimated my friends.
It’s because Amber is meeting with the dean and I’m on edge.That was what I told myself.
“I think Coach has shown up late to practice once in the four years I’ve been here.” Aaron scanned the field and blew onto his fists to get warm. “Wonder where he is.”
“Ten bucks says it’s wife trouble,” Tanner said.
“Nah, I’d say fighting with our trainer over something. Him and Nicole get into it once a week.” Zade nodded to himself. “Plus, we start practice ourselves anyway.”
“Yeah, but he’s always around, watching how we react with other players and if we give it our all every stretch. You know his motto, players are given opportunities to advance on fiftypercent skill, fifty percent character. He’s probably watching from somewhere,” Aaron said before going into a sprint.
They were all probably right in their assumptions, but my gut told me it was something more. He hadn’t shown up to check in with the captains or to give us any updates that tended to be about the focus of the day. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for him to stroll in five minutes late with a stern look and a clipboard, but his timing wasn’t great for my nerves.
Is it Amber? Is she okay?I snuck to my catching bag and glanced at my phone resting on the side pocket. We weren’t allowed phones unless it was an emergency and while no one would agree with me, this felt like one. My screen showed no messages, just the time.
She should be out by now.
“Jeff, let’s go throw a little,” Zade yelled, and I forced myself to not be annoyed. We were at practice and my job was to be a leader. Pitchers and catchers were supposed to work together every other day and Zade had to throw a certain number of pitches before we could move onto the next drill.
I dressed in my full gear—something our coach wanted me to get used to before the season started—and got lost in the routine of it all. The sound the ball made when it hit my glove, the whirl of Zade’s pitches and the smell of the catching gear I had worn all these years. It comforted me to not think about Amber or my coach and to just catch, throw and repeat. It went on for an hour and Zade went to see Nicole, giving me a spare minute to scan the field for our coach.
Still nothing.
“Where the fuck is he?”
“Who?” Brandon asked, matching my aggressive stride as I head into the dugout. Of all the people to hear me talk to myself, I didn’t want it to be him.
“Our coach.”
“Something’s going on, I think.” He stopped walking when I put my arm in front of his chest, preventing him from going farther. “Dude.”
“What do you mean, something is going on?” I asked in a lower voice, noting how two of our other coaches stared at us.
“I heard shouting coming from his office and Tee and Mac have been real dicks so far today. They’re usually chill but I think it has something to—” His eyes widened and he whispered, “Do you…do you think it has something to do withyou know what?”
