Page 24 of Hiding in the Outfield

For the first time in my entire life, everything falls into place. His fingers dig into my neck, and he steps into me, every inch of his body pressing against mine.

My blood buzzes; my nerves rattle as neurons misfire and overload.

It’s right. It’s everything. It’s me. For the first time, I’m me.

I hold on tight with trembling hands. If I don’t, I’m terrified it’ll all disappear.

My pulse drums in my ears. My skin prickles. Wait. No. That thud isn’t my pulse. It’s footsteps⁠—

“What the fuck?”

I shove Frankie away from me. Fuck, fuck—“Fuck!”

My eyes land on the worst possible person: Dev. I’m frozen in my worst nightmare.

His head snaps to Frankie. “You’ve gone too fucking far this time,” Dev says, words slightly slurred, and steps toward Frankie.

Frankie studies his nails, leaning against the wall, bored-as-you-please. “Always inserting yourself where you don’t belong, Devereux. And I don’t mean that in a sexy way.”

The slur’s barely left Dev’s lips before he’s cocking his arm.

I finally get my useless legs to work. But I’m too late. Dev’s fist flies. Frankie dodges it and cackles.

A growl falls from me. This is not funny. I saw the look on Dev’s face. I’ve seen it on others. I know that kind of loathing. Mix that with alcohol, and you’ve got a ticking time-bomb. Terror ices over me.

“Dev, no!” I shout, lurching for him.

But Dev shoves Frankie and throws another punch. The crack of fist meeting bone shrieks through the hall. Frankie drops, head slamming into the tile floor, body limp.

No scream.

No sound.

Silence.

Dev drops on top of him just as I get my hands around Dev’s chest. I rip him off Frankie before he can land any more blows. Because I know, down to the marrow of my bones, he wouldn’t stop.

My gut seizes. Oh God. This is so bad.

Thundering footsteps grow louder, and then Nebs tears around the corner. “What’s going on? I heard—” His gaze finds his brother’s motionless form, and his words die.

Dev breaks free of my hold and tries to get back to Frankie. Nebs dives over his brother, and Winters slams a hand into Dev’s chest. I snake an arm around his middle and yank him backward, but he’s fighting me hard. I’m bigger, but he’s still a professional athlete, and what’s fueling him right now is ugly and dark and lends him strength.

“What the fuck happened?” Stone’s voice booms through the hall.

“Devereux assaulted Frankie,” Winters spits.

“Because he assaulted Olander,” Dev shouts. “That sick bastard is always perving on all of us. And the first chance he gets, he takes advantage of your intoxicated teammates.”

“Let’s just go, Dev.” I drag him backward toward the hallway. “Before you get yourself into more trouble.” Winters follows, hand to Dev’s chest, making it clear that if Dev breaks free, he’ll be facing the wrath of three of his teammates.

I spin us when we reach the hall and shove Dev down it. “Go. We’re leaving. Right fucking now.”

Oh my God. Oh my God.

All I can see is Frankie’s motionless form.

I don’t even register walking through the bar. My hand stays flat on Dev’s back as I push him unceremoniously to the door.