Chapter 39

Callie

I am an emotional trainwreck right now. I’ve wanted to lock myself in one of the janitors' closets and just have the most therapeutic cry ever. Despite the disownment from my father this morning and the name calling from Nic, the person I’m most upset with is myself.

I shouldn’t have lashed out at Will like that. He was standing up for me when I wasn’t there to stand up for myself. But when I walked in on that it was like my worst nightmare, except it didn’t have anything to do with the things Nic said or did to me, it was the idea of Nic ruining my revenge of a happy life.

The moment I hung up with my dad this morning, I felt this weight lifted off. I was finally going to be able to put everything behind me. But then here comes Nic trying to fuck it up again.

It hasn’t helped that the entire work day Shannon has had me running the stadium. It was so bad that when Miles hunted me down to ask to help me, I had to break the poor kid's heart and tell him no. I’ll never forgive her for that one.

I thought my declaration of doing my job would suffice, but it only egged her on. She’s memorized my schedule now and if I had a moment to breathe today, she was there with something for me to do.

All day I’ve thought I could escape her and the tension she brings at the start of the game, but now I’m switching to a whole new stressor. Earlier the guys were ready to go at it in the hall—now they have bats and a crowd.

Taking my position in my designated photo hole next to the dugout, I try to steal a glance at Will, but he never looks my way. Fuck, I can’t have a full breakdown here. I just have to get through this game, and we can talk it out.

I can do hard things…I have done hard things.

By the bottom of the fourth inning the Blues are absolutely killing the Crimsons—five to nothing. The guys are playing better than I’ve seen all month. Will’s pitching better than I’ve ever seen him. Period.

So far he’s struck out Nic every single inning. It’s been both extremely satisfying and beyond nerve wracking because Will has yet to look at me.

Abandoning my little hole, I decide to take some pictures behind home plate. The angle isn’t as great as opposed to being directly on the field, but it still does the job. Plus, with Will still not even sending a glance in my direction, I’m starting to get in my head.

Moving as quickly as I can to the new spot, I miss one player making it to first. I do, however, make it just in time for Nic to be up to bat again and while I could pick up his anger from my old spot, from here it’s palpable.

With Will’s first strike, I can’t help the tug at my lips. I won’t apologize, it feels so good to see. With Will’s second strike, I swear Nic says something, but with this rowdy crowd there’s no way I can hear anything. Nic spares a glance back down to my brother which gives me a little pause, but it’s fine, right?

With Will’s final strike, the umpire calls Nic out for the fifth time tonight and it feels so freaking good to hear. But then my heart stops because Nic slings his bat back at the fence then charges the mound straight at Will.

“Oh, fuck,” I mutter to myself. As soon as Nic makes it to the pitcher’s mound, Will lets him get one hit in before losing it.

After that it’s an all-out fight. Will’s laying into Nic. Beck’s fighting off the guy who made it to first. And it just escalates from there. Adam pulls Will off Nic, but not to stop him, to take over. Then every fucking player is out of their respective dugouts.

I’m pretty sure the shock and fear hold me in place as I watch the mess unfold. The crowd roars around me, eating up the drama, but my heart is in my stomach.

Finally, between the coaches’ and the umpires’ intervention, the fighting stops. Nic, Adam, and Will get ejected. Olsson starts yelling. Whether it’s to Adam and Will or the umps, I don’t know. I don’t care. The moment Will walks off that field I move—no, I run to find him.

Pushing through the crowd, I race down the hall and bust through the locker room doors.

“Will?” I yell, looking around so frantically I almost yell for him again before he comes out of the bathroom holding a rag to a cut on his eye.

“Callie, I’m so sor?—”

He doesn’t get to finish that apology because I launch myself at him in relief. Wrapping my arms around his waist, it takes him a second to fully embrace my hug. With the rag removed from his head, I look up to inspect the gash above his eyebrow.

My hands go to his face. “Shit, Will. Are you okay?”

Will chuckles as he pulls my hands down. “I’m fine, Callie. It’s worse than it looks. Nic, on the other hand?—”

“I don’t care about him,” I snap, cutting him off. “Will, I only care about you. I’m sorry this is such a mess. I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you earlier, I’m sorry, I ju?—”

“Hey, hey,” Will says softly. “I don’t usually stop your rambles, Blaze, but this time I have to. Never say you're sorry about anything that remotely involves that guy. I swear, Callie…” Will sighs as he trails off.

He’s holding the rag to his brow, so I gently reach up and take over for him. “Let me see.”

Reluctantly, Will lets me have the rag and sits down on the bench close by so I can get a better look. With the bleeding now mostly finished, it really isn’t that bad.

“I suppose you’ll live.” I chuckle lightly.

“I know I will.” A smile tugs at the corner of Will’s lips as he pulls me in for a small kiss. “Now, you should probably get back out there. I’ve made enough trouble for us today.”

“Oh, that’s an understatement.”

My eyes shut the moment I register whose voice that is. Turning around, I find an outraged Olsson and my brother who’s staring at me and Will like we were the ones that punched him.

Will shoots up. “I can explain. We’re not?—”

“Don’t start, Anderson!” Olsson snaps. I've never seen him look so pissed. We’re fucking screwed. “I don’t want to hear a single fucking word from you. All of you, for that matter.”

Sighing, Olsson runs his hands over his face. “Adam, Will, you guys are obviously ejected. I’ll have to wait to hear about the penalty the league decides on for you two, but for now, go home. You too, Callie. You're suspended for tomorrow's game as well. We’ll discuss this relationship after I clean up this fucking mess.”

My heart sinks and I can practically feel the anger radiating off Will. Before he even opens his mouth to argue, I place my hand on his back lightly.

“I understand.” I nod to my boss because, fuck, I should have known.

“Sir, she—” Adam tries but Olsson holds up his hand.

“Not a word.” He grits out. “Now I have to go deal with the fact that you two assholes broke a player's nose and possibly his jaw. So, for all that’s fucking holy, not another word.”

When none of us say anything, Olsson hits us with another sigh before he turns and slings open the locker room door on his way out.

Shit. I’m going to lose my job.