Dare to Dream: The Maxwell Series (25 page)

I
gripped
a two-inch-thick branch in both hands as blood dripped into my right eye. I’d cut my eyebrow when I’d sprinted past a protruding tree limb after the shotgun went off.

“Something wrong, Maxwell?” Shaun—Barry—asked.

Tingles cascaded down my arms at the sight of Kade. He was here.

“Nah, I was just thinking. What would I do in your shoes?”

Suddenly, panic clawed its way up my chest as I examined the scene. A Glock didn’t hold a candle to a shotgun. Somehow I had to distract Barry. Otherwise, Kade would be the next victim on his list, and I wasn’t losing another loved one.

Barry laughed cruelly. “You don’t have the balls to live in my shoes.”

“You’re right. But I do have the balls to—” In one motion Kade tossed the Glock toward my feet as he charged Barry, knocking the shotgun out of his hands.

I traded the branch for the Glock.

“Now, let’s do what real men do,” Kade said, throwing a punch into Barry’s jaw. “Unless you don’t have the balls.”

Barry growled as he turned to his left and bore his gaze into me. “Trying to be manly for your girl?”

I aimed the Glock at him, desperately wanting to wipe the smirk off his face.

As Kade went to throw another punch, Barry dove to the ground and came up with the shotgun in his hands.

“Real men use guns,” Barry mocked. “Now let’s see who wins this battle.” The barrel was trained on Kade.

“So do girls.” I shuffled closer to Barry.

“Lacey, shoot him.” Kade raised his hands in a placating gesture.

Static crackled over a radio. A deep baritone voice carried on the breeze, doling out commands. The cops were headed our way.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Who will be the first to go?” Barry sang.

My knees locked. Fear comingled with anger as my heart jumped into my throat. If I didn’t do something, Kade and I would be dead. The only way out of this was to shoot Barry.

I steadied my hand, inhaled, then squeezed the trigger. When I did, two shots echoed and two bodies fell to the ground.

“Kade! Kade!”
Oh, please don’t be hurt or dead.
I began to tremble.

“Over here,” one of the cops shouted.

Branches snapped. Radios crackled. Voices droned. A loud buzzing pierced my ears. I couldn’t make heads or tails of who was talking. I labored for air as I ran to Kade.

“Oh, my God. Are you hurt?” I felt every part of his body, praying, hoping, pleading that he wasn’t.

My heart slowed as he sat up.

Kade combed a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, feeling his arms and chest. “Fuck,” he said. His voice was strangled. “That was close. You must’ve pulled the trigger a second before he did. When the bullet struck him, it must’ve thrown him off.” He looked past me.

I was about to throw my arms around him when he took the gun out of my hands and jumped up. He marched over to Barry.

“You shot me.” Barry groaned, holding his knee.

“You’re lucky she didn’t kill you,” Kade chided.

“Hand me the gun,” one of the police officers said. It was Officer Yancey. He retrieved the shotgun that lay an arm’s length from Barry.

Kade hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Barry taunted. “I dare you.”

Kade growled. “I’m not a murderer. You need help.” Kade handed the gun to Yancey. He reached out to take hold of my hand, but Barry clutched my ankle.

Barry yanked me down on top of him. I scrambled to stand, and pain zapped me in my leg where his father had stabbed me. He wrenched on my hair, keeping me fastened to him.

“Let her go,” Officer Yancey said.

“Not a chance.”

I looked at Kade, and his eyes went wide. Then a cold, sharp blade was at my neck. I gulped. Fear wasn’t an option anymore. Pure, raw rage blinded me. My limbs hurt from running. I had cuts on my knees and over my eye. I was drenched in sweat, and I’d had enough of this asshat.

“Son,” Officer Yancey warned. “You don’t want to hurt her.”

“Fuck you. You don’t know what I want.” Barry’s lips grazed my ear. “We can die together.”

Kade moved.

“Don’t,” I said to Kade. The only way to get out of this without getting hurt was to distract Barry. I clamped down on the knee I’d shot.

Barry let out a blood-curdling scream and unleashed me.

Kade rushed forward and hauled me up. Officer Yancey confiscated Barry’s knife then handcuffed him as he continued to fight and swear.

Lights bobbed in the trees. More people swarmed the area.

Kade drew me into his comforting arms. “I can’t believe you’re alive. I thought I’d lost you again. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He felt my hair, my face, my arms.

“I’ll be fine.” I peered up at him. Relief was stamped in his copper eyes.

“I’m proud of you. You didn’t black out. You didn’t panic. You were brave, baby.”

I almost laughed. I’d been in panic mode since I’d come home. I stiffened. “Dad. Is my dad okay?”

“Your dad is dead.” Barry sneered.

My pulse revved up. Kade snarled at Barry.

“Lacey, your dad is alive and on the way to the hospital,” Officer Yancey said.

I silently said a prayer as the adrenaline drained from me and I sobbed into Kade’s chest.

D
ark angry clouds
blanketed the sky as I sat in the dugout. I was hoping the rain would hold off until we finished the last inning. We’d made it through the playoffs and were playing in the championship game against Valley High, a team with a perfect record. My nerves were all over the place. It was the bottom of the eighth inning, and the score was three to two in favor of Kensington.

Kelton came into the dugout and sat down next to me, grumbling about striking out. “Damn. That pitcher has a mean curveball.”

“Shake it off,” Renee said to Kelton. “We got this game. Lacey’s pitching has been great. All we need to do is hold them off for three more outs.”

“No pressure,” I said, biting a nail.

With his forearms on his knees, Aaron angled his head to face me. “You’ve got it. You’ve proven you’re tough under pressure.”

Since our first game, Aaron had been nice to me, even more so after Kade’s party. He was cordial, complimenting me when I threw a good pitch and explaining what I’d done wrong when I didn’t. In fact, he’d started giving the team motivational speeches before each game. Coach Dean even raised an eyebrow or two. I believed the change in him had more to do with his sister, Tiffany, and how she’d been affected by a bully.

Kross stepped into the batter’s box, and the entire dugout quieted. Kross had been on a home-run streak during every game of the playoffs. The pitcher threw the ball. Kross swung and missed. The Valley High’s spectators roared. I continued to nibble on my nails. I would love to go into the ninth inning with a bigger cushion. Kross took some practice swings.

“Any word from UMass?” Aaron asked.

“Not yet,” I lied. I’d heard from UMass and Colby College during the last week. They both offered me a baseball scholarship. Except for my dad, I wasn’t ready to share the news with anyone until I made my decision, and Kade would be the first to know anyway. Still, Aaron was curious since he’d accepted a scholarship to UMass.

The crack of the bat jarred me to focus on the game. A breeze blew, carrying the pungent smell of rain.

The entire dugout screamed for Kross to run his ass off. He’d rounded first. The centerfielder threw the ball toward second base. The shortstop intercepted the ball. Kross pumped his legs, stretched out his arms, and dove. Dirt kicked up. The shortstop tagged Kross just as he reached the base.

The umpire raised his arm, balled his hand into a fist, and shouted, “Out!”

Valley High cheered. My team gathered their gear and trotted onto the field. Three was the magic number. Three outs were all we needed. I had to pitch my absolute best to make sure no one scored.

I collected my glove and had one foot outside the dugout when Coach stopped me.

“Lacey, a second.” His hands were tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His ball cap shadowed the crease between his eyebrows. Coach always had a permanent line between his eyes during games, it seemed. He inched closer to me, put his hands on my shoulders and said, “I’m so very proud of you. You’ve accomplished so much in the face of adversity. You’ve pushed past your fears to keep your head in the game. And whether we win or lose, I’m honored that you chose to play for Kensington and honored to have you on this team. Chin up. Clear your head. Get in your zone.” He beamed with pride.

I stuck out my chin. “Yes, sir.” The school year had been a challenging one, but one that I wouldn’t have traded for anything else in the world. Well, except to have Mom and Julie here with me. Sure, I could’ve done without the break-in, being held hostage, stabbing someone, running for my life, and shooting someone else, but those incidents had changed me. I’d faced my fear of the dark, thanks to Coach’s advice, and for that I owed him a lot. “Thank you for your wisdom, advice, and faith in me. I don’t think I would be standing here in this game if it weren’t for you.”

That crease between his brows became a gorge, then he relaxed, smiled once again, and tapped the bill of my ball cap. “Bring us home, Lacey Robinson. Let’s win this game.”

I jogged out to a screaming crowd that included all those close to me—Dad, my brother, Rob, Mary, the Pitts, Kade, Kody, Mr. Maxwell, Becca, and Tyler. Once on the mound, Mark threw me the ball. With my glove under my arm, I rubbed the ball between my palms, feeling the smoothness of the rawhide and the roughness of the raised stitches.

“Everything okay?” Kelton asked from behind me at shortstop.

“Perfect,” I tossed over my shoulder.

He plastered on one of those Maxwell grins I loved, his blue eyes lighting up with excitement. “Then show these guys who the champions are.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I threw several warm-up pitches before the umpire said, “Play ball!”

I circled the mound and checked the infield then the outfield. The batter stepped into position. I looked down at Mark. He gave me the signal for a curveball. I wound up and threw.

“Strike one,” the umpire called.

The home crowd clapped. The stands were tightly packed with students, parents, and children.

As Mark gave me another signal for a curveball, I tuned out the voices and chatter. I concentrated on my pitching and the batter. I wanted to win this game so bad I could taste it. Mark returned the ball. I dug the heel of my cleat into the dirt, readied my stance, cocked my leg, then released the ball. The pitch barely painted the inside of the plate.

“Strike,” the umpire shouted.

I released the air in my lungs.

“Okay, Lacey,” Aaron said. “One more strike.”

Mark flashed one finger, which meant another curveball. Valley High’s third baseman swung and missed. The stands erupted in a cheer.

One out down. Batter number two, all brawn, ponied up to the batter’s box.

Mark hustled out. “Their two runs came from his double. He likes the ball on the inside. So, we’ll use your slider unless I give you the sign for something different.”

Once everyone was in position, I tossed a look over my shoulder to Finn at first, wound up, and released.
Crack!
The ball soared into right field. The batter ran, and my heart sprinted with him. I willed Renee to catch the ball. She rushed forward then danced backward before the ball disappeared into her glove. The crowd roared, and I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand.

One more out, one more batter, three more pitches. The spectators were on their feet.

Sweat dripped down my back. If I could survive death, I could survive one more batter.

The next batter hit a line drive between Kelton and Aaron. Kross dashed forward and fielded the ball, throwing it to Kelton as the batter made it to first. The T-shirt I wore under my uniform was soaking wet.

“Shake it off,” Kelton said, tossing the ball to me.

Coach came out to the mound. “Remember the next batter eats up fastballs. So stay with your curveball. And tune out the crowd.” He gave a hand signal to Mark as he trotted back to the dugout.

Valley High’s cleanup hitter, tall and lanky, swaggered up to the plate. The Valley High fans chanted, “Home run, home run!” The Kensington High fans chanted, “Strike out, strike out!”

As I gripped the ball, placing my fingers in position for the pitch, I remembered when Kade had first met my dad. He’d said, “Your daughter has a wicked curveball.” I smiled at that thought. Suddenly, the noise around me faded into a soft drone. I glanced down at the batter, let out a breath, checked the runner at first, then wound up and pitched.

“Strike one,” the ump called.

The chants from the crowd settled.

Two more strikes and we would win State. I picked up the chalk bag and massaged the white powder into my clammy hands. Then I checked the runner and my team. Satisfied, I gripped the ball and snapped my wrist. The ball traveled down to home plate, in slow motion it seemed. The batter swung.
Crack!

As a pitcher, I hated that sound. My heart plummeted to the mound. The runner at first rounded second. Finn, at first base, dove for the ball. Renee sprinted forward. The batter from home plate rounded first. Renee fielded the ball. The runner was rounding third. I covered Mark. Mark tore off his mask and stood, waiting for Renee to throw the ball. Kelton waited at second. The easiest out was at second. Renee whipped the ball to Kelton. Just as he swung his gloved hand down, the batter slid into the base.

Complete silence on the field until the umpire shouted, “Out!”

Chaos erupted. Fans swarmed the field. Mark hugged me. Kelton, Renee, Kross, Aaron, and the rest of the team surrounded Mark and me. Before I knew what was happening, Kelton was swinging me around. “I told you we would win State with you on the team. I told you.”

When he set me back down, I stumbled but was quickly lifted into the air again. I was passed around like a bowl of green beans at the dinner table. Hands were on my back, my butt, my legs as people cheered, “Kensington!” Not that I minded. But I wanted to congratulate my teammates. They were the ones who’d brought this win home for Kensington. Renee had a great batting season. Kross was a force to be reckoned with out in left field. Kelton was a gymnast at shortstop, and Aaron had an arm that could whip the ball around the bases in seconds. Finally, after I’d been hugged, carted around, and patted on the head, someone set me down in front of Coach Dean.

He removed his ball cap and peered down at me with a hint of water in his eyes. Then he wrapped his muscular arms around me. He didn’t have to say anything at all. His actions were enough to make me tear up. I mean, Coach didn’t hug students. I returned the gesture for many more reasons than the elation I was beginning to feel at being part of a winning team. He was more than my coach. He was like a second father to me.

When he let me go, I darted through the mosh pit of fans, parents, and teachers. I didn’t have to run far. Rob was wheeling Dad down toward the dugout. Dad had the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face. He had spent the better part of a week in the hospital. The doctor told him he was lucky the bullet didn’t do any major damage. I bent over and hugged him.

“We did it!” I gushed with so much excitement I barely recognized my own voice. “We won!”

“You were fantastic, Sweet Pea. With everything you’ve been through, you kept your focus. I love you.”

All the emotion sprang forth, and I cried. I was over the moon that I was ending my senior year with a championship trophy, but I was happier that my dad was alive to see me play my last high school game. I was also sad that Dad was in a wheelchair and sadder that Mom and Julie couldn’t be there.

“I hadn’t seen you play in two years,” Rob said. “I thought you were good at Crestview, but wow! Arizona doesn’t know what they’re missing.”

At the mention of Arizona, a tiny ache spread through my chest. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over not having the opportunity to show them what I was made of. Nevertheless, I had to move on. After many sleepless nights, I’d decided not to take the chance of walking on to the ASU team. My dream was college baseball. It didn’t matter where.

I dragged my gaze from Dad to Rob. Together they looked like twins with their brown hair and green eyes, only Dad had aged a great deal since the murders. Crow’s feet fanned out from the corners of his eyes, and dark circles bruised the area beneath his lower lashes.

“New beginnings,” I said as I spied Kade sauntering toward us. “And the Dodgers are lucky to have you.” Warmth radiated through me. I was proud of my brother, and so damn excited. “I want seats behind home plate.”

I was about to run to Kade when Becca bounced over with so much excitement it was almost impossible not to look at her.

“Awesome, girl! Just flipping awesome. It’s time to celebrate at Wiley’s,” Becca said, adjusting her black hair to spill down her back. “I’m going to find Kross.” As she glided off, Mary, Gloria, and Jeremy came over. Mary had flown in from California to help Dad. Her mom’s hip surgery had gone well, and she was getting around.

“Your mom would be proud,” Mary said as her petite frame enveloped me in a bear hug. If Mom and Julie were here, they’d be squeezing the air out of me, too.

“Mom is watching me from heaven,” I said, holding back tears. Mom wouldn’t want me to be sad on such a momentous occasion.

When she released me, Gloria snagged me then Jeremy. Kade waited patiently, talking to Rob as his copper eyes fixated on me.

“Amazing,” Jeremy said as he pulled me in for a hug. He wore a cologne that smelled like rich leather.

Once all the congratulatory hugs were out of the way, Rob said, “I’m going to take Dad home.”

“Go have fun. You deserve it.” Dad grinned, and my heart swelled at how I missed the light in his eyes.

The field had thinned out with people heading for the parking lot. I spotted Chloe and Kelton walking off. I guessed I’d catch up with them later. They’d been inseparable since they started dating. Becca and Kross followed them. As soon as the Pitts, Mary, Rob, and Dad left, I ran up to Kade.

“We won! I can’t believe we won,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck.

“You were fantastic. I’m so horny right now. I think my dick was hard the whole game watching you throw, seeing your confidence and determination.”

“Lace,” Tyler called from behind me.

“Be nice,” I whispered to Kade.

Tyler strode up with his hands in his pockets, the light breeze brushing his blond locks to one side. I thought back to the first day I’d met him when I’d interrupted a meeting in Coach Dean’s office. Coach had yelled at me for my lack of manners, and as I’d hurried out of his office, I’d caught a glimpse of Tyler, grinning from ear to ear.

The smile he had on his face reached up to his ocean-blue eyes as he skimmed his gaze over me. “Congrats.”

The tension grew as thick as the dark clouds above.

My goal wasn’t to cause a fight, but I owed Tyler a hug. He’d worked tirelessly with me to perfect my pitches for tryouts. I wrapped my arms around him, and he stiffened with his hands at his side.

“It’s okay. Kade isn’t going to punch you. If he does, I’ll help you fight him off.”

Kade laughed, although I could detect a little tightness in it. “No worries, man. Lacey would probably kick my ass before yours.”