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I shake my head again, staring past him.

  He sighs, a loud, audible, fucking sigh.

  “Let’s have a look at the caskets then, shall we?” he says it like he’s running out of patience. “We’ll start with what we call the junior range, for the child…”

  He hands me a brochure and I tense. I cannot breath. The blood has drained from my entire body and my sight is blurry from the tears in my eyes.

  In the distance, I hear a door open and close.

  “Excuse me,” Mandy announces, as she steps out of the room.

  I’m still staring into space when I see Jake's face in my vision. He’s crouching in front of me, cap on backwards, hands on my face trying to get my attention. I focus on him, on his face, on his concerned look.

  “Hey…” he whispers.

  “Hi,” I return.

  “Would you please give us a minute?” Aunt Lisa asks Wes/Des/Les a.k.a Dickface.

  “No problem, I’ll just be outside.” He closes the family room door behind him.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Lisa asks.

  I nod my head, never taking my eyes off Jake.

  “Honey, if you don’t mind, why don’t you let Mandy and I take care of this part?”

  “That’s a great idea,” Mandy agrees. “Why don’t you let Jake take you out of the house for a bit?”

  I nod again, and a second later Jake is leading me out the door. He purposefully, and aggressively, bumps shoulders with Dickface as we pass him.

  The family room door closes behind him and Jake leads me out the front door, but not before I hear Mandy screech, “How dare you!”

  Jake places me into the passengers seat of his truck and puts my seatbelt on like I’m a child. We’ve only said those two words to each other since he’s come back.

  “Wait here, okay? I’m just gonna run in quickly and change.” He’s still in his baseball gear.

  He comes out a minute later wearing dark jeans, light grey henley with the sleeves pushed up and the same cap on his head.

  “Feel like hitting some shit?” he asks, getting settled in the drivers seat.

  “You know a way to a girls heart.” I mock swoon and bat my eyelashes at him.

  He reverses out of the driveway, changes gears, then holds my hand the rest of the way.

  We end up at the batting cages.

  Of course we do.

  ***

  Jake’s standing at the pitching machine adjusting some dials while I stand in the cage, bat in hand.

  He comes over to me and adjust my body to how I should be holding the bat, and tells me when the right time to swing is. I take in everything he says.

  He goes back to the pitching machine and presses a couple buttons. The balls start shooting out. I hit the first six ‘out of the park’.

  His eyes bug out of his head. “Okay, smartass,” he yells, but it comes out ‘smuuhtuhhs’. Australian’s don’t use ‘R’s apparently.

  He plays with some more buttons.

  The next few pitches come out faster, but I still manage to hit every one. He’s chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief.

  He turns it up faster again.

  These next lot get me, and I’m probably on 50/50 of hits to misses. After no less than 30 swings I shout out, “I’m done!”

  He turns the machine off and strolls over to me.

  “Wanna tell me what the fuck that was?” he asks, chuckling in amusement.

  I ignore his question and hand him back the bat and helmet. “Thanks, Jake. I really needed that.” And I did, I really did.

  “Seriously though, where did you learn to hit? I would not have expected that.”

  Just as I’m about to answer, someone yells out his name.

  We turn to see about five guys walking over to us, they reach us and each do that weird bro code hand shake fist bump shoulder slap half hug greeting.

  The guys shoot the shit for a few minutes, then I see one of them staring at me, eye’s roaming my body up and down. He creeps me out.

  “Who’s your friend here?” Creeper says loudly, interrupting their conversation.

  Jake throws a possessive arm around my shoulders, I lean into him. “Guys, this is Mikayla, Mikayla, these are-"

  “She your girl?” Creeper asks interrupting him again, his eyes trained on my tits. ugh.

  “For now,” some girl coos from behind them. She makes her way to the front of the group.

  Casey.

  Where the fuck did she come from?

  Jake tenses.

  Luckily for us, my phone sounds with a text. Aunt Lisa lets us know that the cops are on the way to Jake's. I show him the text and he excuses us. We walk back to his truck with his hand on the small of my back.

  We ride back in silence, but half way there I look over at him. His cap pulled down low on his forehead, almost past his eyebrows. He senses me looking at him and turns to me. He smiles that panty dropping smile, then turns back to face the road, smile still in place.

  “So Casey, huh?”

  His face falls instantly and we don’t talk for the rest of the ride.

  ***

  *Jake*

  When we pull up to the house the police cruiser is already there. We make our way into the living room to find them seated, waiting.

  Dad’s here too.

  The officers stand to shake Kayla’s hand and then wait for her to be seated before sitting back down.

  Kayla sits on the recliner and I sit on the arm, she takes my hand in hers before getting comfortable.

  “This is just a courtesy visit Miss Jones-" officer one starts.

  “Micky… call me Micky… please.”

  “Micky.” The officer nods at her.

  Officer two says, “We just wanted to keep you updated on the case. There hasn’t been many changes, we still haven’t found him, but we’re doing everything we can.”

  “Thank you,” Kayla says quietly.

  “We’re still under the impression it was random. There is nothing to indicate otherwise, unless you have any information that might change that.”

  Kayla shakes her head.

  Officer one continues, “It looks like whoever was in there, was there for a simple burglary, we suspect that your family came home in the middle of it, and… well… you can guess what happened.” His voice breaks. “We’re also under the impression that they tried to burn the evidence, they started a fire in the garage, it got to all three cars housed in there, and to most of the kitchen. Luckily the fire department were there before it could get any further. We’ve swept the place clean of any evidence we might need, so you’re okay to go back there whenever you want and collect any personal belongings. Unfortunately, the fire department has deemed it a health risk to actually live there, the whole dwelling will need to be knocked down. We’re so sorry, Micky.”

  Kayla’s eyes are brimming with unshed tears and Lisa moves to the other side of the recliner to comfort her.

  The officers share a look and then officer two eyes Kayla. “Miss Jo-, uh, Micky,” he corrects. “There’s one other thing. We don’t want to go into too much detail about the crime, but we thought you should know, the gun shot wounds…” he takes a deep breath. Kayla is gripping my hand so tight the blood has drained from it. She’s leaning forward in the chair and has stopped breathing. She waits… “Each victim had a single gun shot wound to the head, they died instantly. They weren’t in any pain, Micky.” A single tear falls from the officers eye before he can wipe it with his shoulder.

  Kayla’s entire body convulses and she falls to the floor in front of us. I pick her up and sit us back on the recliner, cradling and rocking her, I move the hair from her face as she cries into my chest.

  The officers stand up and one of them speaks, “We’ll see ourselves out, thank you for your time. We’ll leave you with your loved ones, Mikayla.”

  Dad shakes their hands as they leave.

  Loved ones.

  I think I do, love her, I mean.

  I th
ink I’m in love with this beautifully broken girl.

  I carry her upstairs to my bed and that’s how we spend the night, her silently crying in my arms.

  Chapter 14

  *Jake*

  I miss my morning workout again. Kayla spent the entire night crying quietly in my arms. She finally fell asleep around five. I didn’t.

  I carefully remove myself from her and get out of bed. She needs to sleep. She has a meeting with their lawyer today, I guess about the will and house, I’m not sure. Dad will be there. I won’t.

  I have to be at school, for the morning at least. Some of the trainers and players from UNC are meeting me at the field for ‘pre-orientation’, whatever that means. I’d much rather be here with Kayla.

  When I get out of the shower she’s sitting up in bed. Her eyes and nose are all puffy and red from crying all night, her hair is smeared and sticking out one side. She’s looking at me shyly. It’s pretty much the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen plenty of girls the morning after spending the night with one, but not like this. She’s just, more than anyone else. We haven’t slept together, we haven’t even kissed, and she’s just… more.

  Eventually, I’ll want to. Kiss her, I mean. Because hell, who wouldn’t, but not now, not with all this.

  “Morning,” I say, sitting next to her on the bed. I give her a quick kiss on the temple.

  She kisses me softy on the cheek. It’s the first time she’s kissed me since the limo ride before…

  “Good morning,” she tries to smile.

  “I really have to be at school this morning, if I could get out of it, I totally would, just so you know.”

  “It’s okay, Jake.”

  “My dads going to be there with you. If you have any questions or don’t understand something just ask him okay? Seriously, I know he’s intimidating but he’s-"

  “Jake, thank you. I’ll be fine. I really appreciate your dad taking time out of his work for me. You guys… all of you… you’re amazing you know that?”

  “My family is amazing. Me? I’m kind of a big deal.” I say to her, trying to lighten the mood.

  She swats my shoulder playfully then falls back onto the pillows with a huff, one arm covering her eyes.

  “Get out of here, Jake. before I make you crawl back under these covers and snuggle with me.” Her free arm points to the door.

  A strangled noise comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, because I’m so certain there’s absolutely nothing else in the world I’d rather be doing.

  ***

  By the time I get to school, the hallways are packed. Coach says they’ll just excuse me from class whenever the UNC guys get here. Hopefully they won’t be far off because I need to get back home to Kayla.

  “Hey, Asshole!” Logan yells as he walks over to me.

  “Mr. Matthews,” some teacher I don’t know reprimands. “This is a place of learning. Not the baseball court.”

  Logan rolls his eyes. “About time you showed up.”

  I cock my eyebrow at him. His hands go up in surrender. “Sorry, dude. Dick move.”

  “So how is she?” He asks as we reach my locker, which happens to be next to Heidi's. Lucy and Cam are there too, and Dylan of course. They stop talking, waiting for my response.

  “She’s not doing too well. I mean, what can you expect right? She’s just having a hard time with the funeral and stuff. I took her to the batting cages yesterday. Girl’s got good form.”

  Heidi rolls her eyes at my comment.

  “She has a meeting with the lawyer today,” I continue. “I’m going to head back as soon as this UNC shit is done.”

  Logan raises his eyebrows at my attitude towards the UNC guys, truth is, it just doesn’t seem all that important right now.

  “The funeral is tomorrow, at twelve. The gathering is at our house afterwards so I won’t be here.”

  “We’ll be there too, Jake,” Lucy says, holding Cam’s hand.

  “We’ll all be there,” Dylan assures.

  Logan pats my shoulder a couple times before the bell rings and we all separate to go to first period classes.

  ***

  The meeting with the UNC guys is a joke. First they turn up later than they said, and it’s going longer than I anticipated.

  The training staff are all good, they seem pretty excited about me being there next season. Some of them haven’t actually seen me pitch in person, so I enjoy their reaction.

  The boys on the team are a different story. I get it. I really do. This is the fourth year on the team for some of the guys, and I get that they’re tight with the other players. Now some, cocky freshman is going to join and may even replace the current starter. Plus, the hype that the coaches have built around me, and the special trip to some random high school in the middle of hicksville, just to make me feel ‘more comfortable’. I’d hate me too, I think. They’re not being dicks or anything, but they’re far from comforting.

  Finally, I rush home, knowing I’ve definitely missed the meeting. Hopefully it all went well, as well as it can go.

  I get home and the house is empty, they must still be there. I go to my room and climb into bed, maybe I can get a nap in. I was going to text her to see if everything was okay, but I realized I don’t even have her number.

  Just as I’m about to fall asleep I hear music, ‘Hey Mickey’. It’s her phone on the nightstand, she must have left it home. I ignore it, I don’t feel like invading her privacy. But then it rings again, and again. I finally get up to silence the thing and I see it’s James. 48 missed calls from him, and 13 from Sam, I think that’s his mom.

  23 unread texts.

  Shit.

  The phone rings in my hand again, ‘SAM’ displayed on the screen, I go to reject it but accidentally press ‘accept’.

  “Hello? Micky?”

  Shit.

  I put the phone to my ear.“Uhh… hi?”

  “Oh!” she says surprised, then I hear her exhale. “You must be Jake?”

  She has that thick drawl like her asshole son.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I can hear her smile through the phone. “We just heard that the funeral will be held tomorrow. I just wanted to confirm the details with Micky.”

  I don’t know if Kayla wants them there, I’m sure she won’t mind his parents, but him?

  “I’ll be sure to let her know you rang, ma’am.”

  “Okay then, thank you,” she sighs out sadly.

  I hang up.

  I definitely can’t sleep now, so I make my way downstairs. Just as I reach the bottom step, the front door swings open and Kayla bursts through. She doesn’t even see me as she passes me and runs up to my room, closing the door behind her.

  I look from her to the front door and Lisa, Mom and Dad are standing there.

  “Maybe just leave her for a bit, Jake. I think she needs some time alone,” Lisa tells me.

  I look back up the stairs, willing everything in me to not go up there and demand to know what’s happening. I want to hold her and tell her I’ll be there for her. Forever.

  I head to the kitchen where the grown ups are talking. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter then lean back against it.

  “What’s going on?” I ask everyone, taking a bite.

  Lisa answers, “They just weren’t prepared, her parents. They didn’t have things in order in case anything happened.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, looking at Dad.

  “There’s no money, Jake. Even after the house and life insurance payout. It’s just enough to cover the mortgage and other debts,” Lisa says, shaking her head and staring out the window. “There’s enough money to pay the tuition for what the scholarship doesn’t cover at UNC. There’s no money left for housing, even text books, and she still needs to feed herself.”

  She stops looking out the window to look at me. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, I could take her home with me but I would have to talk to my fian
cé. I know she’s legally an adult but she’s not ready to be on her own, not with nothing. My fiancé would say yes, purely because I asked him, but I don’t think it’s fair, to ask him, I mean…” she trails off.

  It’s quiet for the longest time, all of us staring at the floor. We’re all thinking about what we can do to help, if there is anything we can do.

  I push off the counter, throw my apple in the bin and head to my room.

  I get under the covers with her and snuggle, just like she wanted.

  I don’t know how long we’re there for, but I know we both fall asleep.

  ***

  I wake up to her trying to get up, I hold on to her tighter and nuzzle her neck, she laughs, it’s a small one, but it’s enough.

  “I need to shower,” she says, stretching. “I’ll meet you down there.”

  By the time I get downstairs, Mom is finishing cooking dinner, Lisa is here too.

  “Where’s Dad and Julie?”

  “In the study, they’re building the solar system,” she answers, rolling her eyes. Dad loves ‘helping’ with those kinds of projects, I remember those days.

  I’m getting the drinks out to help set up, when Kayla walks in. She’s freshened up. She’s barefoot, wearing tight skinny jeans and an olive green top. It must be Heidi's because the jeans are skin tight and the shirt hugs every curve of her body, just a size too small that about an inch of skin shows between the hem of her shirt and the band of her jeans. I’m staring, more like ogling. I mean, I’ve had my hands all over her, I know she has curves, but damn.

  Mom’s in front of me, “You have a little drool-" she says quietly, pretending to wipe my mouth playfully.

  I swat her hands away and continue pouring drinks into the jugs.