Page 53 of Saving The Shortstop

I mean, the motherfucker is certifiably crazy.

Following Anna down the hallway, we find Haven and her dad in the kitchen. His eyes narrow in question as he takes me in, and he glances at his daughter.

“What’s going on, Have?” he asks. “You two have more good news for me about D’s grades or what?”

Haven’s gaze shoots to me before swallowing sharply.

“You guys should sit down,” she says, waving her hand toward the table.

Anna and Coach look nervously at each other, but neither moves.

“If you’re pregnant, just say it,” Anna blurts out, every bit of the smile that was on her face gone. “Please.”

“Mom—” Haven groans, tossing her head back. “No. I’m not pregnant. My God.”

Coach literally leans over the counter and sighs in relief. He’s quiet for a moment or two before he straightens himself out.

“I don’t want to sit,” he finally says. “What is it that you need to tell us?”

They must be so confused, wondering what the hell we’re both doing here right now. I can’t even imagine what they think we’re going to say, but I have a feeling what they’re about to hear isn’t it.

Haven walks over to me before she turns back to face them again. Her hand brushes mine, almost like she needs that bit of touch to be able to say it. I glance at her, reading her expression and knowing she’s struggling to say the words.

“It’s Tabor, Coach,” I finally say. “For the past few weeks … he’s done some pretty fucked up shit. And now, it’s to the point where we can’t keep it to ourselves anymore.”

I can feel her tense beside me, and I decide right then I don’t give a fuck how it looks or what questions it may bring. I lace my fingers in hers and squeeze.

Both her parents’ eyes land where our hands are joined, but they lift their gaze again to me, needing more information.

“What—” Anna whispers. “What exactly are you telling us?”

My eyes float to Haven to find her bottom lip trembling. I don’t want to talk for her because this is her story to tell, but I also don’t want to force her to say things she isn’t ready to say.

“It’s bad, Mom,” she finally says, her voice a squeak. “It’s really bad.”

Anna’s eyebrows pull together, but she’s still unsure of what we’re actually trying to say.

“Please, come sit at the table with us,” Haven utters. “I have a lot to fill you in on.”

Coach’s face is white as a sheet, but with his wife’s hand in his, he walks over to the table and sits down. Across from them, Haven and I take a seat, and I keep her hand in mine, making sure she knows I’m right here.

I know that telling her parents about the pictures isn’t going to be easy, but we agreed on the way over that they need to know everything. Even if it hurts them, they need to know the magnitude of how fucked up Tabor Timmons truly is so they understand what their daughter is dealing with.

HAVEN

As I run through the series of events, trying to name off how they each happened, I freeze, my throat aching when I get to the worst part.

I’m ashamed to tell my parents that a guy I was having sex with took pictures of me naked. It’s embarrassing, and as someone who is so proud of my entire family, this feels like the lowest moment of my life.

Turning slightly toward Dallas, I can’t even speak to tell him what I need to, and yet, right away, he knows my request.

“You sure?” he whispers, and subtly, I nod.

He needs to tell them because I can’t do it.

“After the flowers showed up in her bedroom, I started to worry that he was more dangerous than I had assumed. I was afraid he had gone into her room while she was asleep and left them there.” He stops, and I can feel the pain in his voice. “Not only that, but the note—it indicted he had been watching us together.” He pauses, grimacing. “Closely, too. Because he knew I was taking care of her while she was sick.”

I know what he’s saying without actually saying it. Tabor was watching us—while we were in my room.