Page 39 of Wild Hit (Wild Baseball Romance #3)

I’ll proceed to wallow in shame the rest of the night. Something went off in me and I was just trying to protect, but I got pretty intense out there. Or put plainly, I was a neanderthal. I don’t know how to make that up to my kid and Audrey.

So much for being a calm force, for being able to talk someone down from an anxiety attack. I wouldn’t be surprised if instead I’m the reason Marty and Audrey freaked out.

Slowly, I open the door into my house, and I force myself to lift my eyes and face whatever awaits.

A boulder slams into me. I stumble back against the door, slamming it shut with my body. Barnacles squeeze around me with shocking strength. In front of me, Audrey’s watching the whole thing with wide eyes and a pale face. The barnacles start wailing.

“Marty?” I ask, struggling to understand what’s happening.

All that comes out of her is muffled wailing against my stomach. Her arms are so tight around me that she probably could’ve kept the intruder pinned against the ground.

“I—Uh…” My mouth flaps open and shut, but instinct kicks in and I wrap my arms around the trembling twig that is my daughter. “It’s okay, Marty. You’re safe now.”

“Not me!” she yells, finally looking up. Rivers of tears and snot run down her angry little face. “You! I was afraid something would happen to my dad!”

A sob comes out of her and she buries her face in my T-shirt again.

I look up at the stoic older woman, wondering what the hell happened in the course of these past hours. But her chin is trembling too, and her pretty eyes are starting to turn into puddles.

“What am I doing?” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I can’t believe I put you two in danger.”

My lungs cease to function for a moment. I free one hand and reach of Audrey, drawing her closer. She comes willingly as the first tears start to fall. I swipe them away with my calloused thumb, but more of them keep spilling out.

“That’s not true,” I explain, still missing air in my lungs. “Henry Vos is the one who did.”

“But…” Audrey looks away, biting her trembling lower lip. “It’s still my fault.”

Sighing, I say, “come here.” I spread my arm open and she takes the invitation, snuggling into Marty and I. My daughter shifts to wrap one barnacle around the unsuspecting woman, who is now going nowhere no matter what she tries.

I guide her head to rest against my chest, and soon she’s grabbing fistfuls of my T-shirt and also letting it all out on it.

Two hot and wet patches compete for attention, but I do happen to have two hands.

I stroke the backs of both of their heads, surprised at the difference in texture and still the similar softness.

They were both so damn happy, singing along with the Korean pretty boys like it was the only important thing in the world.

Damn Henry Vos for doing this.

Damn Charlie Cox for getting a weasel like that in his daughter’s life, and now in my daughter’s too.

I don’t know how, but I’m going to protect them. With whatever it takes. Somehow I’ll figure it out.

*

I think I’m fueled by spite because later, I’m fully awake, sitting on the couch between the two ladies as they calm down with some chamomile tea. For some reason, just the smell of it makes me angrier and my cup lays untouched on the coffee table.

“I’m going to sue,” I declare.

Audrey sighs a little into her mug. “It’s not worth it. He’ll just drag all your private stuff out into the open.”

I don’t have anything to hide, but I do have to safeguard Marty’s privacy.

Running my sweaty hands up and down my thighs, I say, “Then we have to talk with your dad. I’m sure even something like this is gonna snap him awake.”

“I don’t want to tell him.” She sets her mug down as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

Even Marty agrees when she demands, “Why not?”

Audrey takes in a deep breath and lets it all out at once. “Because I don’t want to know if he’s also not going to care about this.”

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Right. I’m a jerk. It’s not like they have a normal relationship.

“I’m sorry—” I start to say, but then a smaller, cold hand falls over mine and I open my eyes. The gold band and the glimmering rock on Audrey’s finger taunt me. Gently, I turn my hand around and she lets me. She grabs on tight.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Miguel.” She turns to face me, her puffy eyes scanning my face for something. They stop briefly on my lips, enough that it almost feels like a touch, but then she continues. “I think it’s time for us to divorce.”

Marty gasps from my left.

I stay quiet, thinking a million thoughts that make no sense, trying to survive through the needles stabbing my chest in all directions. I stay quiet, because what I really want to say is no . That I don’t want to. That I want her here with me. That I want to be the one who keeps her safe.

And then—then two neurons rub and finally make a worthwhile spark. Without filtering, I blurt out the whole idea. “I think you should move in with us instead.”

“What?”

“Yes!” My daughter jolts.

“Miguel—” Audrey looks from Marty to me. “That’s not the solution.”

“Divorcing isn’t, either,” I respond with ease, like there isn’t a riot in my gut. “That’s just gonna open you up to that vulture swooping in for you. What we have to do is the opposite, keep you safe and cozy away from him.”

“Exactly,” Marty agrees, even though I can’t tell how much of that she actually understands.

Meanwhile, Audrey’s looking at me like I’ve grown another head. Her hand is still squeezing mine, though. Maybe that counts for something.

Or I wish it does.

“What if something like this happens again? Or worse?” She shakes her head. At some point she gave up on the updo and her hair is a mess all around her face. She’s never looked more beautiful than this moment. “I can’t—Miguel, I refuse to put you two in danger again.”

“We want to defend you,” my daughter quips in, leaning forward so she can watch her intended’s reaction. “And you saw me, I also know how to use a bat.”

“Quite well,” I add. A couple of years ago before the bullying at school really started, Marty and I used to hit the batting cages at an arcade center, and her record was nearly as good as mine.

This succeeds in getting a little laugh out of Audrey. “Guys, I’m serious.”

“So are we. Right, Dad?” Marty looks up at me like I better say yes or else she might test her swing on my car next time.

I just smile at her like, of course. No way I’m skipping out on this woman when she needs help.

When I want to be there for her .

Turning back to Audrey, I answer, “We’re both serious. We want you safe, Audrey. So… will you move in with us?”