Page 213 of Even Exchange

A chill scatters down my spine.

Don’t let your mind go there, Caruso.

My fingers itch to call Mom. She’ll wonder why I’m not playing since I was on the field plenty in the first half, but she’ll explain it away with me being benched or injured. The last thing I want is her showing up when we have no idea what’s going on.

He has the upper hand once again.

There haven’t been any other doorbell notifications, so I suspect they’re still inside.

How many times have I screamed at the TV screen to call the damn cops, and here I am, being an absolute idiot.

This is stupid. This is so stupid.

Snatching my phone from the cupholder, I call Elijah. His dad and brother are cops from Longwood. I trust him and he trusts them, so it’s the best I’ve got.

It rings once.

“Where the hell are you?” Elijah asks, voice panicked, the loud noise of the crowd almost overpowering his voice. “Why are you calling me? Why?—"

“My father’s out of jail,” I tell him.

“What?”

Realization hits me he has no fucking clue what I’m talking about.

“I don’t have time to explain,” I say, passing cars at a speed that could putmein jail next. “CliffsNotes version. He’s psychotic. He went to jail. Now he somehow got out of jail.”

“I’ll ruin your life”rings in my head, and I shudder.

“What?” he says, background noise getting quieter, as I assume they’ve left the stands. “I don’t understand.”

“My father’s dangerous. He’s at my house.” I swallow hard. “And he has Charlotte.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Elijah tells me as if that’s an option. “Go back to the game, and we’ll call you when it’s handled.”

“You think I’m leaving the fate of my wife to someone else?” I huff a sarcastic laugh. “I’m already on the way. I called for reinforcements.”

“What do you need?”

After filling Elijah in on my very shitty plan and a panicked drive, I pull onto our street. Charlotte’s Bronco is the only vehicle in the driveway, and I’m hoping they’re still inside and didn’t sneak out the back. I pass the house, trying to peek for signs of movement but seeing none, and park down the street.

Elijah instructed me to wait till they arrive before going inside, but if he thinks I’m letting Charlotte and our baby be in danger for a single second longer, he’s delusional.

I stumble out of the truck, rush up the street and around to our backyard, and quietly unlatch the gate. It closes with a click, and I crouch down, circling the perimeter of the house.

Peering in the kitchen window, I see someone walk by, and I duck. Taking a steady breath, I look again, albeit slower. My father is pacing in the kitchen, and Charlotte is nowhere in sight.

Where is she?

Is she okay?

I need to get to my bedroom and retrieve my gun from the safe.

How can I get inside without him noticing?Or maybe Ishouldgo inside. Distract him, and Charlotte can run and get the gun.

Thank god I showed her where it was.A fucked-up sense of relief fills me. What if this happened when I was at an away game?

A high-pitched scream comes from inside, and I sprint around to the front door, finding it unlocked. I throw it open and rush in, finding my father’s hand on Charlotte’s shoulder as she holds her stomach. A blinding rage courses through me.

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