He looked relaxed, lucid, and unruffled, despite the microphones and tape recorders that were above and all around him. Baxter’s show didn’t air the question that was asked, only Chase’s small smile and his careless shrug before he spoke:
“I realize you guys have a story to work, but I would ask that you try to be mindful of one thing. This isn’t someone I picked up off the streets to engage in what is being labeled by some as twisted behavior. This is the woman I love and was hoping to marry. Depending on how well you do your jobs, that may or may not now be possible. I’m starting to call a doghouse home.”
There was a general rise of laughter and Chase joined in with a small laugh of his own before he continued. Amanda was hanging on every word, trying to memorize every expression he made. “We are two consenting adults who were having a silly private moment that someone unfortunately chose to take advantage of in the hopes of making a quick buck. If there’s nothing earth-shattering going on in the world right now that this needs to be a front-page story, I guess we’re grateful. I wish our charities got this much attention. That’s my official statement, and from here on out, I’m going to get back to baseball.”
The television cut back to Baxter, and he started spouting off his opinion. To Amanda’s surprise, Derrick Baxter was taking the there’s no longer any honor among thieves side, and accused the mainstream media of purposefully neglecting to show the rest of the tape and the make-out session that followed, which, in his humble opinion, effectively blew any abuse allegations out of the water. And two kids who might play a little rougher than some made bad poster children for domestic violence, a topic that deserved serious attention.
Chase had spoken in terms of “we” and “our” as if she were still with him and not cowering behind Ray-Bans in Nags Head. He had covered for her even though she was states away and he was clueless as to her whereabouts, had even alluded to the fact she had every right to be angry with him. He was still being a team player, a team she had forsaken when the going got tough.
And as Derrick continued to air his views, the screen cut to a stock photo taken of them at a fund-raiser, and Amanda felt all the breath leave her. She tried to inhale, but the grip of missing him combined with the scope of what she had done to him wouldn’t let go of her airway.
Gertie pushed the Stop button on her remote and the image was gone. Amanda finally reached oxygen.
“You two look beautiful together. You both radiate. Good aura all around that,” Gertie said, before adding, “And he’s hot.”
Hearing a seventy-year-old woman use the word hot with such vigor set Amanda to laughing out loud. “Yes, Gertie, he is. But he’s also incredibly sweet. I don’t think since I met him, he’s ever said an unkind word to me.”
“That says a lot about a man.”
“Do you think I made too much of this?”
“I think you made as much of it as you had to.”
“Do you get ESPN?”
“I have basic cable.” Gertie pretended to be insulted.
“Do you mind if we put it on? He’s got a game.”
“And just how would you know that, missy?” Gertie smiled knowingly.
“Because I started watching some television and checked the cable guide. If I hadn’t had my catharsis, I was going to swipe a drum and beat it every time they showed him. Now I’d just like to see him while I figure out if I should call him as soon as the game’s over or wait to see him in person.”
They turned on the game at the bottom of the fourth inning. There were sweeping shots of him that made Amanda’s heart flutter. But it wasn’t until the sixth when he got up to bat.
She wasn’t ready for the alteration.
His smile had been replaced with a scowl. His eyes were dull. Not vacant—there was still plenty of fire—but there was no joy. All the boyish sparkle was gone. What was left was scary to see. Amanda hoped she was the only one who saw it. That it was only guilt brought on by having to watch her consequences in action. She prayed that, to the rest of the world, he just looked like the King of Diamonds getting his A-game playoff face on. He fouled off the first three pitches in a row. She could feel his fury every time he took a swing, and when the fourth pitch was thrown, he hit it with such force the bat splintered. He stood there watching it till it made its way out of the stadium. He ran the bases, his expression never changing, and jogged his way back to the dugout. Before ducking in, he stared right into a camera, the coldest, iciest stare Amanda didn’t believe him capable of, and her gasp was audible.
It was like he knew she was there.
“That’s the man you’ve been telling me about?” Gertie asked, trying not to sound alarmed.
“Yeah,” she replied, feeling the most awful twist in the pit of her stomach.
“Honey, I think it’s about time you start hightailing it back to where you came from. You don’t want that boy coming to find you.”
CHAPTER 16
CHASE KICKED THE treadmill’s speed up a few more notches, the incline as well, and ran at full speed for another three minutes. Sweat poured off him, but the same focused expression he had been carrying around for weeks never changed. There was an untouchable coldness to him, and while he was never rude to anyone, he was definitely not the same man. After he finished, he took only a minute to catch his breath, pacing the whole time. When he set the bench press’s weight up another ten pounds for the third time and went to lie down, Logan felt it was finally time to step in.
“Hey, man, is it working?”
Chase gave him what could only be construed as a growl. “Is what working?”
“The unhealthy risk-taking?”
“What the hell are you talking about? The playoffs are coming up.”
Logan gave him an indulgent grin, not fooled. “You’ve been training with me for, what, seven years now? I’ve seen you through how many postseasons? In all that time, I can’t remember a single instance where my program wasn’t enough for you.”
“Why don’t you just fuckin’ say what’s on your mind?” Chase spat out, adrenaline surging, aggression surfacing. But they had known each other a long time, and Logan was unconcerned about any potential backlash.
“If you don’t mind me cutting to the chase, pardon the pun, all of this won’t bring her back.”
Chase shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. He had been itching for an altercation that with a second look, he wasn’t ready to have.
Don’t say her name, don’t say her name, don’t say her name drummed in his head. He broke out into a smile that never made it to his eyes and tried to sound nonchalant.
“Oh, that.” He gave an overexaggerated wave of his hand. “That’s old news, buddy. We were pretty much done before she took off. You know me better than that. What have I always said? So many women, so little time.” Chase picked up the front of his shirt and wiped his face, thereby hiding it. It gave him the time he needed to settle in, continue the farce.
“If that’s true, then how do you even know who I’m talking about?” Logan continued to provoke.
Chase settled both hands on his hips, let out a rush of air. “Who else could you mean?” Don’t say her name, don’t say her name. “The spoiled brat who bailed as soon as the heat turned on.”
Logan merely smiled “Spoiled brat? Heat turned on? Interesting choice of words, given the circumstances.” He was the first one of Chase’s friends who had even broached the topic since it happened. Everyone had been either too scared or just plain not interested. In Chase’s circle, almost everyone had a least one skeleton in his closet. When it happened to one of their own, it only sent the message that next time it could be them.