Page 40 of Saving The Shortstop

“He showed up here. She was just trying to get inside, and he followed her up the stairs and grabbed her hand to make her stop.” She looks up at Haven. “I’m sorry, Have. You’re my best friend, and the last thing I want to do is make you feel like I’m against you right now. But … I’m worried. And I know you. You’re afraid you might inconvenience someone else, so you’re putting your own safety on the back burner.” She inhales. “I can’t let you do that. And maybe it’s nothing. Maybe he’s fine.” Her head shakes subtly. “But I just … don’t think that he is. I really, really don’t think he is.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve been this pissed. I’m irate at Tabor, but I’m also mad at Haven because why the fuck wouldn’t she have told me that he showed up here. Not only showed up here but grabbed her fucking wrist and tried to stop her from coming into her own house.

Makes me sick to think about.

“Stay here with her,” I say to Harley, but I see the other two girls nod in agreement as well.

“Where are you going?” Haven says, attempting to stand in front of me to stop me from leaving.

“Move, Short,” I demand, my eyes not looking into hers because even though I shouldn’t be, I’m too fucking mad at the girl right now.

When I go to step around her, she moves right along with me, blocking me from leaving. Her hands grab my wrist.

“Damnit, D!” she hisses. “Where are you going?”

Finally, I dare to look her in the eyes, and right away, I’m hit with fear and panic as it radiates from her gaze to mine, damn near burning a hole in me.

“I’m going to straighten this out,” I say through gritted teeth. “Stay here with the girls. Do you understand?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, and she sighs dramatically.

“Dallas,” she whispers, her eyes glossed over as she puts a hand to my chest. “You’ve worked so hard to get here. Please, I’m begging you …” Her voice breaks. “Don’t throw that all away on me.”

There are so many things I could tell her right now. Like how, for the first year I was adopted, the only times when I didn’t feel anxious every second of the day were when I was near her. I remember when my mom or dad would ask if I wanted to get together with the Kings, and I’d play it off like I wanted to hang out with Noah—and I did love to spend time with him; he’s my best friend. But being near Haven, even if we were assholes to each other, somehow calmed me down. To this day, I don’t understand it, but she helped me through that period of my life more than she knows.

I could tell her that when I got ready for dances or special events with Noah at their house, it was really just so that I would be the first one to see Haven’s dress before anyone else got the chance. Or that, at her birthday every year, when she was opening her gifts, and Noah would take me outside to play basketball or football, I’d always pretend like I had to go in and get a drink—just because I loved to watch how she ripped into her presents, treating each one like it was no doubt the best thing she’d ever seen.

“Just come with me and we can watch a movie—” she whispers, pulling me from the memory of every single time my adoration for her has grown over the years. “I’ll let you choose it and everything.”

Though I’m in my own world, my eyes move back to hers, and for a second, I think about how nice that would be—to ignore this shit and have an excuse to be in her bed again. But I’ve let this go on long enough, and now, I need to actually do something about it.

Removing her hands from me, I swallow roughly.

“I’ll be back,” I state emotionlessly. “Stay in the living room with the girls until then.”

And before she can stop me, I step around her and head toward the door.

I rush up the stairs to The Lookout, not bothering to knock before I push the door open as hard as I can. Right away, a few of the guys on the basketball team swing their heads toward the door, looking away from their video game.

“Sup, Rivers?” one named Will calls.

“Where’s Timmons?” I say sharply.

“Uh … I think up in his room,” he calls back, returning to his video game. “Third door to the right.”

He’s barely got the words out before I’m headed up the stairs, but I only make it to the last step when Tabor is standing in front of me, an amused look on his face.

“Coming to see me, Rivers?” he drawls, smirking though his eyes hold a certain darkness in them. “I’m flattered.”

Shoving him backward, I don’t stop until his back hits the wall. I keep my arm over his chest, pushing him harder into it.

“Stay the fuck away from Haven, Timmons,” I growl, my face hovering mere inches in front of his. “You can be a little fucking bitch boy and threaten me, trash my locker, but if I hear of you ever laying a fucking finger on her, I’ll kill you.” I drag in a shaky, angry breath. “What will Coach think, knowing one of his players let himself into his daughter’s bedroom while she was asleep?”

His face is unchanged, though he tries to hide the pain from me pressing my arm into him, using all my weight to hold him in place. But still, that stupid fucking smirk remains on his lips. Because he’s a twisted motherfucker, that’s why.

“Can you prove that, Rivers?” he taunts. “Do you have proof I went inside her room?”

“Yes,” I lie, but he knows I’m bluffing.