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“Strike two!” Tripp Lyntacky called, drawing Sawyer’s eyes back to the game.
They’d warned Tripp that if he played Grapevine Twist during a ball game, he was a dead man. So far, he’d respected their wishes.
“Come on, Brody,” Sawyer said under his breath.
“Brody, you hit that damn ball and bring us home!” Zoe roared the words from third base. Her hat was on backward, and she was tense and ready to sprint home.
“Go Lavender!”
“Giving it our best shot, Mom!” Zoe yelled back.
Robyn Duke sat with two of her friends, who were both Lavender supporters. She had a banner that said each of her kids’ names, which she raised every time one of them stepped up to bat.
“You think those short legs of yours will make it home, Duke?” Noah Keller called from the outfield.
Before her brothers could react, Zoe had raised both middle fingers.
“She takes after you,” Beau said.
They hated each other, but in public, or game day, they had an unspoken rule that they just glared.
“Damn straight,” Sawyer said.
To the left of third base stood Sydney Jane and Betsy Regal, shirtless, wearing those little sports bra tops and body paint. Sydney Jane, lemon, and Betsy, lavender.
“We should change the colors to red and blue,” Beau muttered, looking at the two girls, who were worth looking at but not on Birdie’s level. Betsy was big breasts with a pretty cheerleader body and smile. Sydney Jane was a predator. She went after men with a ruthlessness that usually got her what she wanted.
“Yeah, pastel is so last year,” Sawyer muttered.
“Hi, Sawyer,” Betsy called.
He tipped his chin.
“Hi, Sawyer,” Beau mimicked.
Two balls came in next for Brody.
“Let’s go, Brody!” Sawyer called, ignoring Beau as he continued to heckle him. His eyes then did a quick sweep of the stands. No Birdie. A woman in dark glasses and a Lakers hat caught his eye. He couldn’t see her clearly from her, but… no, it couldn’t be?
The crack of the ball had him moving. Eyes down, focus. It wasn’t Jolena. She had no reason to be here because she was getting help in some facility and being monitored by her family.
Sawyer ran for third as his sister sprinted for home. He followed and slid in just before the ball reached him. Regaining his feet, he looked at the stands again. The woman was gone.
“I must be going crazy.”
“You’re already there,” Zoe said, leaping at him.
After he’d slapped hands and received congratulations, he looked for Birdie and found her with her parents. They were bent over her, and she had her head between her knees. He was moving before he realized it.
Jumping the fence, he reached her in seconds.
“What’s wrong?” He dropped down before her. “Birdie, talk to me.” His hand rested on her head.
“I’m okay.”
She straightened, and he could see she was lying. She was pale, and the hand he grabbed was shaking.
“What happened?” he asked her parents.
