Page 32 of Scythe's Salvation
As he’s returning to his seat, Brick says, “So, that would probably mean that the boy and woman are Chance and Tamara. All the pieces are falling into place, because if the fundamentalists have their eye on getting the two of them, they’ll tear the town apart.”
“Tim must be one of their soldiers,” Wrecker adds. “It would make sense since women have no position of authority in that fucking cult. So, once she married him, they would’ve recruited him to their cause.”
“Hawg, you and Beast, and of course, Selah, need to investigate the town they came from,” Brick instructs. “I’d be willing to bet we’ll find that there are a significant number of missing women who are in their childbearing years.”
“But why would they want Chance and Tamara?” I ask.
“Because he’s a child of a soldier, and since she’s already proven she can have a healthy child, they’d want her for breeding,” Wrecker replies.
“Over my dead body,” I growl out, standing as I throw the chair I was in against the wall and watch it splinter into a million pieces.
“Then we need to make a plan,” Brick says, “one that stops these fuckers once and for all.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Tamara
“If you don’t calmdown, I won’t be able to do the lines under your eyes,” I chide Chance who is hopping from one foot to another.
His uniform is gleaming, and I groan when I realize that the pants will never be that shade of white again. While I took the hints from several other moms on the team who have older children that’ve played for years and scotch guarded his pants several times, I know how hard grass stains are to remove. He has a bunch of jeans that still bear faint marks from his rambunctious play.
“I’m just excited, Mommy! Do we have everything we need?”
I snicker since that should be what I’m asking him, but I already know his bat bag has his glove, his bat, some batting gloves, and his cleats inside, and it’s already in the back of my SUV. I have a cooler in there with plenty of drinks for him, including his favorite blue Gatorade, as well as orange slices to help keep him hydrated. My tote bag has more sunblock, as well as twoprotein bars in case he gets hungry. I also have change for the concession stand since we’re not the first game, but we have to arrive so damn early. Thankfully, Scythe plans to meet us there because otherwise, I’d be making a million trips to my vehicle to get everything out.
“I just need to put my hat on,” I tell him. “Can’t let myself get a sunburn.”
“Then let’s go!” he exclaims, running for the side door that leads into the garage.
Shaking my head at his antics, I double check that the front door is locked as well as the back door before I follow him out. Right now, I’m glad I have an app that’ll allow me to set my alarm once I back out of the garage and close the door. While sitting in the driveway, I get that task done then head to the ballpark while I mentally prepare for a hot, sticky day.
I’m so preoccupied with Chance and his chattering excitement, I never notice that a non-descript black minivan is following me.
That’s going to come back and bite me in the ass.
“Strike two!” the umpire calls. I watch Chance step back and take a deep breath.
“Focus, Chance,” Scythe yells. When Chance’s gaze turns toward where Scythe’s standing at the fence, he continues. “You’ve got this. Take another breath, then get in that batter’s box and show them how to do it.”
Scythe’s been a godsend for Chance’s confidence. He’s taken him for extra batting practice, and whenever we go by the clubhouse, he has Callum and Chance out there either hitting balls to them or pitching.
I watch my son as his shoulders and spine straighten before getting in a batter’s stance and he does what Scythe suggests. I feel like I’m barely breathing as I watch the ball leave the pitcher’s hand and arc toward my boy. When Chance takes a step forward, swinging his bat, I find myself on my feet as I watch the ball go toward center field, where a little guy is running as fast as he can to catch it. Only he misses and the ball hits the top of the fence and bounces over.
“Home run!” the umpire yells, circling his finger over his head to cheers from the bleachers.
Thankfully, I have my own chairs that come with cup holders. Those bleachers get hot which I found out during several scrimmage games. So, yeah, I promptly went and bought several chairs at the sporting goods store. As I scream for him to run, I watch the two little boys who were ahead of him cross home plate then wait for Chance to arrive.
“Game!” the umpire says. “Ten run rule.”
I grin as Scythe walks toward where the opening is to the player’s dugout while I gather everything I brought to make it easier to transport back to my car. I can hear him telling the team they did a great job as he helps Chance make sure he’s got all of his stuff. My heart swells, though, when I see them walking together and notice how animated Chance is as he looks up at Scythe. Watching their bond growing makes my heart smile and I’m so focused on the two of them that I nearly go on my ass when Chance plows into me.
“Mommy! Did you see? We won the game!” he screeches, temporarily making me wish I had hearing aids so I could turn down the volume or something. I think he might’ve ruptured an ear drum which I must have said out loud since Scythe starts laughing.
“Here, let’s help your mom up,” he suggests, holding out his hand. “You okay?” he asks once I’m back on my feet.
“I think I’m temporarily deaf,” I admit, grinning up at him. “They were awesome, weren’t they?”
