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If Pop knew about my plans with Zariah, then he could have only known because of Billy. I’d thought my roommate was a good friend, but I should have known better. Most of my teammates hated my guts, not because they had taken the time to get to know me and decided I was a shitty person, but because it wasn’t a secret that the Red Sox were going to pick me up in the draft. No one else on the team had a guarantee like I did, and if they were honest with themselves, they weren’t good enough to go in the first round of the draft like I would.
Deciding I would worry about my old man later, I tucked Ma closer and headed for the front door as I pulled my phone from my pocket. My trainer and mentor was the second name in my call history, and I swiped my thumb over his information as we stepped onto the street. By the time I had us in the back of a cab, Frank was already instructing me where to take my mother.
I wasn’t surprised that he wanted me to bring her to his house, and part of me was thankful he had suggested it. At least if she was with Frank, then I knew she was safe.
Once I had her settled, it was late, and I was still steaming. I wanted to find my father and use him as a punching bag, just as he’d done to my mother. It took both Ma and Frank to talk me down, and I ended up going back to my dorm instead. If I couldn’t take out my aggression on Pop, I still had Billy who needed to be dealt with.
But my roommate must have known I was coming for him, because he wasn’t in our room, and anyone I asked said they hadn’t seen him all day.
It was after midnight when I finally started packing for the weeklong road trip. When I was done, I considered going over to Zariah’s apartment, but it was late and I knew she had midterms all week. She needed her rest, and I didn’t want to scare her with the rough fuck I needed right then.
When I got on the bus that would take us to the airport for our Nashville game the next morning, there was still no sign of Billy, and it wasn’t until we were in the air that I realized I didn’t have my phone.
Fuck.
Zariah
I was already annoyed before the professor even called an end to the allotted time for the midterm, and it had nothing to do with the test I’d just taken. My brothers all would have said it was PMS, to which my sister Ciana would have knocked Vito and Bennie upside the head for being tools, but it would have taken merely a slight narrowing of my eyes for my twin, Zayne, to understand he needed to run—and fast.
This pissed-at-the-world feeling that was making me want to scream at the top of my lungs for no particular reason wasn’t unusual for me. I was stressed, and it wasn’t just because my professors were trying to overwhelm me with midterms all week. Not getting to see Nolan as I’d grown accustomed to had made me…cranky?
The real answer was jealous as fuck.
He hadn’t had as much time for me since baseball practice, and now the games themselves, had taken over his schedule. I wasn’t an insecure person, but my ballplayer was starting to make me question his loyalty to me. In any other person, I wouldn’t have even given it a second thought.
Didn’t have time for me? Fine. I wouldn’t force my presence on anyone. I had other stuff that needed my attention anyway.
But with Nolan Krenshaw, I’d found myself making exceptions over and over again for things I never would have allowed anyone else to dare get away with.
That alone told me how far gone I was for the all-star pitcher who was already slated to be a first-round draft pick come July. But then again, he’d known what team would sign him from the time he was in little league. Some scout had noticed the prodigal pitcher at the televised National Little League when Nolan was barely ten years old.
With his being guaranteed to be picked up in the draft by Boston, that more or less made him the enemy—at least in my brothers’ eyes. My family were die-hard Yankees fans. We had the same entire row of seats behind home plate every season. When Zayne, Vito, and Bennie found out I was in love with a future Red Sox, I was going to become enemy number one in their eyes.
Not that I cared. They could suck it up. This was baseball, for fuck’s sake, not a rival crime family that wanted us all dead simply for having the last name Donati. If my brothers wanted to make a big deal out of it, they would have to answer to me, and all three of them knew that was never a fun experience. I could flay them open with nothing more than the sharpness of my tongue, but if they wanted a fight, I was just as deadly with a gun or a knife as any one of them was.Tetkahad made sure that my sister and I were able to handle ourselves just in case we ever got into a sticky situation.
Thankfully, Wills and Estates was my last exam of the day, and I made my way across campus to where I’d parked my car. This wasn’t like in college, when my security detail would follow me around at a distance. I’d begged and pleaded to be given a little more privacy. My dad had been reluctant, until I’d made the argument that he was being a misogynistic asshole.
While Zayne, who was only two minutes older than me, was at college, he didn’t have to be followed around by a security detail. He’d even gotten to stay on campus and actually joined a frat for the two years he’d been enrolled. When I’d graduated, he’d decided he was bored with the whole college scene and went to work for the family full time.
My mother had agreed with my argument and convinced Papa that I should be given a little freedom since I was in law school. I’d gotten my own car and an apartment just off campus. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I wasn’t completely unsupervised, though. Especially when I was an entire state away from the protection of my family.
I figured at least one of my neighbors was there to keep an eye on me, make sure I was safe. But if they had been told to keep my parents informed of who came and went from my place, then Mom and Papa were keeping that bit of information to themselves because neither of them had brought up the fact that Nolan was a regular visitor.
He had a key and could come and go as he pleased. Although, he’d used it rarely in the past six weeks.
As I drove home, I tried to remind myself that he was just busy with school and two practices a day. Then there were all the games he had to attend. Even if he didn’t pitch every time, he still had to go with the team. Plus, he had to spend Sundays with his parents if he was in town. Something his mother insisted on, and with how much Nolan adored his mom, I knew he would never disappoint her. With all that going on, he had little free time to spend with me.
There was absolutely no reason to assume that my boyfriend was hooking up with anyone else simply because he hadn’t been to my place in weeks. The fact that we hadn’t had sex in at least six weeks was nothing to worry about.
Everything was fine with us.
Really…
He was gone for a game, and we typically stayed in touch via text the entire time he was away. Yet there had been no “Good night, Red” before I’d fallen asleep, and when I’d looked at my phone throughout the day, I hadn’t gotten a “Good morning, babe” either.
As I stepped on to the elevator that would take me up to my apartment, I checked the time stamp on our last text conversation. Two days ago. Two fucking days.
Tears stung my eyes, but I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, refusing to release the liquid that wanted to spill over my lashes.
