Page 38 of Renegade Ruin

It shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. We don’t owe each other anything. In fact, I should be livid she decided to insert herself into my life after I walked away on that plane, making it clear I didn’t want her.

It’s not that you didn’t want her,Jackson's voice huffs and I can picture his signature annoyed eye roll.

I bend over and lace up my cleats, ignoring the jab. Mostly because he’s not wrong. It’s something I’ve known all along but refuse to give life to. I may have walked away from Willow that day on the courthouse steps, but it was days later that I decided I couldn’t face her again.

She’d stood in front of me on what should have been the best day of my life—the day I finally divorced the woman who had made my life hell for a year-and-a-half—and delivered me the news, making it a day that would forever haunt me.

Time stopped.

I froze.

And then I ran.

I was a coward, but I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t see beyond the dagger she thrust straight into my chest. It didn’t matter that somewhere in the back of my mind I knew she must be hurting too. All I could think about was Phoebe and my team.

The memories after that moment are a bit hazy. My first stop was Jackson’s apartment, where I held Phoebe as we both fell apart. I kept her away from the news and the press, protecting the innocence I so desperately wanted her to hang on to. There were phone calls and plans made, but I couldn’t tell you what was said.

I ignored every single one of Willow’s calls. Her desperate pleas for me to let her know I was okay.

I wasn’t.

And as time went on, I realized I never wanted to be in that situation again. I never wanted to lose the people I loved. Which made the solution simple.

Don’t love.

Don’t feel.

Willow saw right through me on that. She’s been the only one to see me because, as much as I don’t want to admit it, she’s in the same boat. The difference is we have two very differentways of approaching it. It’s obvious now that she bottles it up, drowns herself in work and bad decisions, and releases with mind blowing sex while I find the nearest bottle.

Hindsight what it is, her way is much more fun. And surprisingly effective. I’ve been able to focus on that night. Anytime I find myself starting to spiral, I think of that moment on the bathroom floor. I still hate who she’s become, but anytime I want to pick up a bottle from the liquor store up the street from the hotel, I think of sinking into her tight cunt and it’s enough of a distraction to stop me.

But today is different.

Today would have been Tommy’s thirtieth birthday.

He had big plans to have a funeral celebrating the death of his twenties filled with women, booze, and his best friends. He didn’t know I’d be the one attending his funeral four months prior, and when the day came, I’d be the only one left.

I still expect you to celebrate, asshole.

My chest tightens as I glance up at the clubhouse that’s slowly filling with my new teammates and the hopeful farm team guys. Over the last week, I’ve silently watched them from afar as they build a rapport with each other, while I remain haunted by the men who once stood in their place, unable to engage.

“So, you’ve got a date lined up for right after we’re done, and then another in case that one blows up in your face?” One of the rookie catchers—I think his name is Noah Smith, but the guys have taken to calling him Smitty—asks Carson as they join me in the locker room.

Carson Whitmore, our ace pitcher, shrugs with a half-cocked smile.“When you put it like that, it sounds like I’m an asshole. I’m just ensuring that I can share my love with as many as possible on this fine Valentine’s Day.”

I grind my teeth as I finish lacing up my cleats. I’ve been so focused on Tommy that I forgot he shares his birthday with the one day I’ve come to hate.

I didn’t always. It was once a holiday my family celebrated with reckless abandon. Growing up in the town of Cupid’s Hollow, it was somewhat of a given. Each year there’s a festival that spans the entire week of Valentine’s Day and culminates with the lover’s dance in the town square. There was a time I lived for that dance. I calculated and planned who I would ask to be my date and dreamed of the day I did so with my wife.

It’s funny how plans change. The very idea of loving anyone like that makes my skin feel like it’s going to break out in hives.

But as different as I am now, some things never change.Like Carson. He’s still the same fuckboy he’s always been. He might be the best pitcher this league has seen in twenty years, but chasing ass and breaking hearts are synonymous with his reputation.

“What about you, Bishop?” Smitty turns and asks, bouncing on his heels like a puppy wagging its tail. “What are your plans for Singles Awareness Day?”

My brows knit together, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I plan to drink myself stupid so I won’t remember the rookie that should be there instead of him, only to wake up tomorrow to be smacked with the reality that he’s still not here.

Fuck, Bish, that’s a little harsh, don’t you think? He’s just trying to get to know you,Jackson offers, ever the voice of reason.

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