Page 61 of Caught Looking
The next hour passed by in a blur. Owen wouldn’t shut up. He shouted threat after threat my way. Enough that Coach and Mercedes both encouraged me to look into a restraining order. Mercedes had it all on video thanks to the camera she always wore on her suit jacket. The police wanted to know if I wanted to press charges.
“Hell yes I do.”
Owen was hauled away. My teammates all stayed to give me hugs and let me know how much they supported me. Coach and Melody both promised Owen and his crew were done, no matter what the higher ups wanted.
At some point it felt like I’d slipped under water. Voices became muffled. People passed in a blur. I didn’t quite feel like I was in my own body anymore.
But why? Owen had said a lot of hurtful things. And sure, he’d touched me, shaken me pretty hard, but it wasn’t like I was bruised.
“Um, actually, you are,” Jeri pointed to my biceps.
“Shit.” I pulled up my sleeve. Sure enough there were five marks on each arm quickly changing color.
“We should take a picture of that,” Coach said gently.
I barely remembered her taking the photos, but when she was done she said she was sorry that she didn’t do more.
“You jumped all over this. Why?” From the moment I told her Owen and I dated she’d taken a personal interest in my welfare. Far more than I would have ever expected.
More than anyone ever had before.
She smiled sadly. “I’ve dated a man like Owen. I know how they can be. The minute he started talking I knew.”
And that’s why she’d stormed off. Why she never returned to that practice. She knew Owen would either break…or break me.
“Thanks Coach.” Why did I want to cry? Why did I feel so…off?
She pulled me into a hug. “Go home. Sleep this off. He’s gone. Let us show you we’ve got your back tomorrow on the field.”
I will make you pay.
I will always find you.
Owen might spend the night in jail but the man was Teflon. Nothing stuck. Never. Somehow, someway, he’d shake off the charges. He’d be back.
17
SETH
After last night’s game we hopped a plane for Chicago. As soon as my head hit the new hotel pillow, I was out. I barely made it to batting practice. But as usual the exercise woke me up and reinvigorated my body. By the time the game started, the Friday night crowd electric, I was more than ready to crush dreams.
And crush them we had. Rhett and I owned the outfield. Rhett had one of his signature catches right at the wall, robbing the batter of a three-run home run. I caught an impossible line drive that bounced off Hunter’s glove and went flying away from where I’d been running. Somehow I changed direction, slid, and caught it just before it hit the ground. Even better, the runners on base thought it was a foregone conclusion that I’d miss it and were caught between bases. Two for one.
Add in my home runs in the first and fifth and it was a damn good game.
“Seth Butler is back!” Wes howled as we lined up on the infield for high fives.
“It was a good game.” One of seven straight with at least one great catch and a home run.
“Pffft,” Hunter looked over his shoulder, “you’re better than ever.”
Maybe notever. I’d had some pretty monumental seasons, but I had to admit I felt—at least on the field—a lot like that guy again. The man who could walk up to the plate and justknowI was going to crush the ball. Same in the outfield. I didn’t have to think when the ball arced into the air. I knew if it headed for left or center, Rhett and I had it.
I had no doubt we would make the playoffs again, but with Isaac at the helm and my mojo returning, I was starting to think we might win the whole damn thing again.
As I skipped back to the dugout to get my shit I was grabbed to do the post-game interview. So I took my spot and smiled for the camera. The questions were always easy.How did it feel when you hit that home run? Did you know you were going to make that catch? How electric was Everett Anson on the mound?I answered honestly and tried to spread the wealth, mentioning as many of my teammates as I could.
When I finally escaped I found Rhett waiting with a scowl and my heart sank. “What?”
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