Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Hey, you okay?”
She looked up, looking almost surprised to see me, and frowned.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, swiping at her eyes.
I continued to stare right at her.
“I’m here because there was a call about an abandoned vehicle,” I gestured with my head to her truck. “Apparently, it was too close to the road for someone’s liking.”
She shook her head. “I’ll move it.”
I stopped her with a hand on her arm, or more like just my fingers.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I did anyway.
“So, why did you pull over and start crying?”
She looked at me, and my breath hitched in my throat.
“My sister,” she murmured after a while. “We found out that she has cancer.”
My stomach sank.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she admitted. “My mom and older sister both died of it. It was only a matter of time before either she or I got it.”
She sounded so lost and upset that I wanted to pull her into my arms, but I didn’t.
It wouldn’t do to let her be seen with the criminal—a man who was arrested for assault and then sentenced to four years in prison.
Yeah, it’d sucked. Big time.
Though, I wouldn’t stop myself from carrying out that assault again—even though the one I’d been charged with hadn’t been one that I’d committed.
What I would’ve done, however, was make sure that the asshole who doctored up the footage would’ve had that camera shoved up his ass instead of assuming that the little shit had even the slightest amount of morals in his slimy little body.
I stepped away from her. “See you around, Ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “See you around.”
Then she got into her truck and drove away, leaving me staring after her with worry starting to fill the pit of my belly.
***
An hour later, I’d just pulled the truck into the parking lot of the baseball fields, and pulled into a parking spot at the back, when the kid I was transporting grumbled something rude under his breath.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Can you park any further away?” Dalton snapped.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Probably,” I muttered darkly. “But this is good for me. It’s not for you?”
Dalton didn’t say anything, lucky for him, and instead hopped out of the truck and yanked his bag with him.
The bat hit the metal of the truck, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from snapping at the little asshole.
“You know where you’re going?”
Dalton didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he shrugged his bag high over his shoulder and started stomping across the lot to the field.
I sighed, and started to close the door to the truck when I saw a familiar blue Ford pull into the parking lot, finding a much closer spot than I’d found, and park.
The familiar woman—looking much more comfortable now in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, slipped down out of the truck and rounded the truck’s bed, stopping at the side to open the door for a boy that resembled her.
Her son, maybe?
I started forward, trying not to look like I was staring, and made my way to the bleachers where I would reside for the next two hours of the boys’ practice.
Which afforded me a great view of the woman—the woman whose name I still didn’t know. At least not yet.
She took a seat three rows in front of me and kept her head straight ahead while she watched the little boy who’d gotten out of her truck.
She didn’t yell and scream, though, like some of the other mothers.
She stayed facing straight ahead, she didn’t speak to anyone, and she didn’t even seem to notice when people spoke to her.
Left to her own devices, she stayed there practically unmoving as the sorrow I felt for her grew in my chest, leaving me to wonder if maybe I should try to talk to her.
“Evander!”
I turned at the sound of that voice and spotted the coach, who was staring at me.
“Would you mind throwing some balls to the boys?”
I grunted in reply, then stood up and made my way down the bleachers.
It wasn’t until I was halfway down that I realized that the woman was watching me.
Her face was no longer filled with sorrow.
It was filled with curiosity.
“Hey,” I mumbled on my way past.
She didn’t say anything, she only nodded in reply.
And I sighed as I made my way to the dugout.
What did I care if she said anything to me, anyhow?
She was Trouble, with a capital T.
Chapter 4
To be honest, I’d rather be drinking coffee on my unicorn instead of whatever this work business is.
-Kennedy’s secret thoughts
Kennedy
“Is that Evander Lennox?”
I turned my head at one of the mother’s whispered words.
“I think it is. When did he get out of prison?”
“Apparently, not too long ago. My husband is his parole officer.”
That made me curious.