Page 48 of The Catcher

“I don’t remember yours,” I lied.

So far in the playoffs, Tanner Courtenay is hitting .325. Can he leverage this into a big contract extension in the offseason?

“So you got convinced to come back?” Tre asked, a smile on his handsome face.

More like I got kidnapped.

“I did,” I replied, sliding a sideways glance over at his girlfriend Jessica, who was visiting for a few days.

She was a stunning veterinarian with white-gold hair and was dressed with perfect style, looking cool and relaxed.Iwas trying to cover the fact that my cunt was sore from how many times Tanner had taken me, and how roughly he’d ripped out my NuvaRing, and keep the deep scarlet and purple marks of his insatiable lust hidden by my hair and shirt.

“And who are you?” she asked, her lips curling up. I felt discomfited, and even more by the fact that Tre didn’t say anything. I adjusted my dress in what I hoped was aninconspicuous manner. I didn’t think the fabric was so rough, but it was really rubbing against my ass.

It felt like that asshole had left literal welts there.

“This is Emrys,” Tanner said. “She’s mine.”

I was surprised despite myself to see a whole table in one of the meeting rooms set up with a tablecloth, plate, and fancy, heavy silverware.

Tanner twisted his baseball cap backwards, and we both looked at the vegan bacon, sausage, and eggs on his plate. The eggs looked like something you might have seen bursting out of an alien’s chest cavity in a movie.

“All right,” he said. “What do you want me to say about this shit?”

“I-I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d actuallydothis. Maybe you should just eat some and then tell the camera why you’re doing it.”

His eyes pinned me. “I’m doing this because everything about you ismine, Emrys Finnegan. I wanteverything. I’m going to fuck your cunt and your mouth whenever I want to, put my baby in you. And you’re going to love me.”

“I will not,” I said, clenching my fists on the table. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” he said, shifting in his chair so I could see the lean muscles of his arm contract. “Now be a good girl and get this shit on live.”

So I got out my phone and recorded him, watching as his face didn’t move a muscle as he took a bite of the fake bacon, the fake eggs, and the fake sausage.

Tanner spoke about going vegan the way I imagined someone in the Mafia would order a hit.

It was better for the planet.

When the fuck had he ever given one shit about the planet?

It was kinder to animals. Better for humans. Everyone should try it.

Again, what the fuck? I could barely believe he was doing this.

He and his fiancée had committed to going vegan for the rest of the playoffs to show how healthy it was.

I almost fumbled the phone in shock, my jaw dropping as I looked at Tanner, and I saw his lips curve into a smile, possessive and predatorial.

I stopped the video abruptly.

“What do you mean, your fiancée?” I cried shrilly. “You better not meanme.”

He frowned, getting up from his chair. “Of course I mean you. Why would I marry anyone else? I loveyou.”

I gasped, my breath caught in my throat as I backed away from him.

His frown deepened, and he reached me quickly. “I don’t like it when you back away from me."

"You don’t love me,” I said.

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