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Prologue
Nolan
I stepped out of the Uber in front of my parents’ apartment building with the phone still to my ear. Even though I wasn’t ready to share Zariah with my folks just yet—mostly with my father, so I didn’t have to hear his bullshit about baseball being the only thing I needed in my head and how all a woman would want was to trap me so she could get her hands on the money from the huge contract I’d get when the draft came up in July—I couldn’t bear to end the call with my beautiful redhead.
Her voice alone had the power to ground me, to make me dread these Sunday dinners with Ma and Pop a little less. Although it was more my father than my mom. Before Zariah, Ma had been my biggest cheerleader, always making sure she never missed a single game from the time I’d started T-ball and then made the National Little League that had changed all our lives.
Even when I was only ten, a scout had seen my potential, saying I was a prodigy pitcher. He’d locked me down the same year my team had won the NLL, and from there, it was history. We’d been moved from the trailer park we’d lived in my entire life in South Carolina to a nice apartment in one of Boston’s more affluent neighborhoods. My father was offered a job at one of the best construction companies in the state, and my mother was given a monthly allowance that was supposed to take care of all my dietary needs to ensure I stayed healthy and strong so I could stay in top form to play baseball.
What I hadn’t bargained for was that my entire life would suddenly become everyone else’s—and not my own. I didn’t have a say in anything. Not which school I went to, whether it was middle school, high school, or college. Instead of going straight into the draft after high school graduation, my trainer had suggested a few years in college instead. Boston College had the best baseball program in the state, so I hadn’t put up a fight. Not that I could have even if I’d wanted to. And even if I had, my father would have overruled me.
College had been the best decision of my life, though. Without it, I might never have met Zariah. A friend of hers from high school went to Boston College and had invited her to a party at my frat. The instant I laid eyes on that five-foot-seven, redheaded vixen, I knew fate had put me on the path it had for that moment alone.
After that, we spent every possible free moment together. Until recently. Practice and away games were kicking my ass. But things would slow down soon, and I would make sure I didn’t have to go without my little redhead as I’d been forced to do over the past few weeks.
In July, I would be a first-round pick. There was no question about that, not when it had been set in stone from the time my father had signed on the dotted line when I was barely ten years old. Instead of spending time in the minors like the majority of draft picks had to do, I would go straight into the major league—something only twenty-three other players had ever done in the history of the baseball draft.
And that meant the money that would come with my contract would be enough to set my folks and me up for the rest of our lives. That didn’t count the endorsements I had already been offered.
The minute I signed that deal, the first thing I was going to do was buy my mom a house down in South Carolina close to her family. Get her as far away from my father as possible. She deserved some peace and quiet away from his abusive ass. I wasn’t sure why she’d put up with him for so long, but if I had to guess, it was for my sake.
Once she was settled, I was going to the nearest jewelry store and buying the biggest engagement ring for Zariah. I needed that girl as my wife sooner rather than later. The world needed to know who she belonged to—me. Once she had my last name, I’d give her a few more years to finish law school, but then I was putting my kid in her, and we weren’t stopping until we had a little baseball team of munchkins. Little girls with their mother’s fiery red hair and that adorable yet devilish glint in their blue eyes. But hopefully, more boys who were as big as I was to help me protect their sisters and their beautiful mother.
And last but definitely not least, I was going to kick my father to the curb and tell him to go fuck himself. Because once I had that contract signed, I didn’t have to listen to a damned thing he had to say about any aspect of my life. Zariah would be my agent instead of that greedy bastard. With her, I knew our money would be secure and I wouldn’t get screwed over by some major league team’s lawyer.
“Are you coming over tonight?” Zariah asked, sounding hopeful.
“I don’t know yet, Red,” I told her truthfully, hating that I might have to let her down. That shit never sat well with me. When I couldn’t give her what she wanted, acid burned in my gut until I could make her smile again. “After dinner, I have to go back to the dorm and pack. We’re on the road all week with away games.” I heard her sad sigh and gritted my teeth. “I’m sorry, babe. You know I want to see you.”
“I know,” she murmured, the sadness lingering. “I just…miss you. We haven’t seen much of each other the last few weeks because of all the extra practices and away games. If I didn’t know how much you love me, I would think you were avoiding me on purpose and were seeing other girls on the side.”
I stopped before I reached the entrance to the apartment building, staring at the door in utter surprise. “Red,” I choked out. “Don’t say shit like that. You know you’re it for me. Babe, you’re the only good thing in my life right now. Tell me you know that.”
There was a small pause and then that adorable-as-fuck huff she knew I loved. “I know, ballplayer. You’re it for me too. Listen, don’t mind me. I’m just hormonal…and horny.”
My cock jerked in my jeans at the way she lowered her voice. “Ah, my girl is hurting.” I glanced around, making sure my dad wasn’t out on the street smoking. He went through two packs a day, and my mom refused to let him smoke in the apartment, which meant he had to do it out in the alley. “I’m going to do my damnedest to make it over tonight, Red. I’ll text you when I’m on my way. Keep that pussy nice and wet for me.”
“Nolan.”
I finally stepped inside the building, but before I could respond to the sexy purr of my name, I saw my mother step off the elevator. At the sight of her, rage boiled through my veins. “I have to go,” I bit out and ended the call without telling Zariah I loved her as I normally did.
The sobs coming from my mother tore at me, and I caught her around her tiny waist as she stumbled forward. “Ma,” I growled, steadying her. “What happened?”
“I-I can’t do this anymore, Nolan,” she sobbed, burying her face in my chest. But I knew it was to hide the bruises I’d first spotted.
Grasping her chin, I gently tipped her head up, my gaze clocking every mark and discoloration on her still-beautiful face. She had a gash above her left eye. Her nose had dried blood under both nostrils and was slightly swollen. Her lips were split, the wound already crusting over. Then there was the bruise on her cheek and jaw. But what had me plotting my father’s slow and agonizing death were the fingerprint-shaped bruises around her throat.
“Why?” I gritted out. But really, my father never needed a reason to put his hands on my mom. Every time he picked up a bottle, he ended up raising his fists to her. I’d been trying to get her to leave him for years, but she never would. She loved him too much, she would always say, but I knew it was for my sake, and that only made my guilt double.
Plus, I suspected she was scared to be alone. Not only that, but until recently, Pop had been the breadwinner. Ma had never worked a day in her life, had barely even graduated high school. She was a great mother and homemaker, but she thought she wasn’t worth more than that. I laid her self-doubts at my father’s feet. His abuse wasn’t just physical. He’d been beating her down mentally for as long as I could remember.
A few weeks back, Pop had been caught drinking on the job, and he’d been canned on the spot. Now all they were living off was the allowance Ma continued to get for my dietary needs, even though I had an athletic meal plan at college which more than provided all the food I needed. I knew it was because my trainer had a soft spot for Ma. If he hadn’t, the allowance would have stopped years ago.
“He’s drinking more than usual.” Ma sniffled, trying to get herself under control. “He knows you’re planning on making your girlfriend your agent and not letting him represent you.”
I stiffened at her words. The only way Pop would even know about Zariah was if he was following me. But that he knew she was going to be my agent, something only she and I had discussed, didn’t sit right with me. How could he possibly know something like that unless…
My roommate had been in our dorm room the last time Zariah and I had spoken about her becoming my agent. She was only in her first year of law school, but she was so damn smart it was scary. She’d taken all her core classes her last two years of high school, so she’d graduated college by the time she was nineteen and jumped straight into law school at Harvard. She was a year younger than me, but her brain made people think she was at least ten years older than she really was.
