Chapter 19

"Du Pont!" Coach yells from the dugout. "Get your head in the game, boy!"

I lift my hat and wipe the sweat from my forehead before putting it back on.

The bases are loaded, two strikes, and we're down by two.

I've been playing like shit due to a lack of sleep. I'm running low on fuel and need to top my tank. It doesn't help that Coach is on my ass and my teammates are relying on me to win the last fucking exhibition game.

Cracking my neck from side to side and digging my cleats into the dirt, I get into a wind-up position. I shift my left foot and pivot my right into position.

This is it. I gotta strike this mother out or Coach will have my ass.

The batter up is Jonah, the best on the other team but no match to Ty. With Jonah, I know I have to be precise. I signal to Ash that I am ready to use my four-seam fastball that I only use on the toughest batter. I grip the baseball tightly in my hand and lift my leg into a ninety-degree angle and pull my arm back and release the ball.

The ball connects with Jonah's bat; the crack of the bat echoes through the field as the ball soars high into left field. For a heartbeat, no one moves—all eyes are on the ball as it arches toward the outfield.

Fuck.

Ty's eyes are laser-focused on the ball as it soars. He leaps high into the air, his glove outstretched, and tumbles, landing on the ground with the ball securely in his grasp. The crowd seems to hold their breath in anticipation and then erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

Ty pops up from the ground and fires the ball toward me with lightning speed. I catch it and whip around to throw it to Ash just as the runner from third slides into home. Ash blocks the plate, catching the ball just before the runner"s hand crosses home.

"Out!" shouts the umpire, triggering a roar from the crowd.

After we shake our opponents" hands, I look up to the stands and search for Shorty, but she's not in her usual spot.

I sigh, wanting to help ease the pain she's in. Tia mentioned she hasn't been sleeping well the last few days. It kills me not being able to be with her every night.

An eerie feeling creeps up on me, causing the hair on my neck to stand up. It is a sensation I have never experienced—a sense of being watched. I turn slightly to my right and see Eva standing behind the fence. Her eyes are fixed on me, unblinking and unwavering. I can't shake off the feeling that something is off. Suddenly, she shakes her head as if breaking free from a trance and waves at me with a wide grin. But her smile is so unnerving that it sends shivers down my spine.

My teammates are still excited while we dress in the locker room, but I feel drained and ready to leave.

Ramsey gives me a friendly pat on the back as he heads toward the door, followed by the rest of the guys. "Good game, D," he says with a smile.

I sit on the bench tying my shoes when Titan comes and sits beside me. "You played your ass off, man. You feeling alright?" he asks.

I nod. "Yep. Just ready to get home and crash," I say in a flat tone.

"Alright. I"ll see you back the house," he says, rising from the seat and tossing his bag over his shoulder. As he turns to leave, he pauses and adds, "The after-party is at Tommie"s Bar later tonight. Will you be there?"

Before I can reply, Ash abruptly appears around the corner. "Coach wants to see you, D," he says. I can sense the tension in his voice, and my heart rate quickens, knowing what awaits me. Coach hasn"t been too happy with me lately. I can"t blame him even though we won tonight"s game; I know I haven't been at my best.

I finish gathering my belongings from my locker, the metal clashing as I shut it closed. Then I face Ty. "Not tonight," I reply. I see the disappointment flash across his face, but he quickly recovers, nodding in understanding.

"Alright," Ty mutters. He reaches out to clap Ash on the back. "See you there, man," he says before leaving the locker room.

Ash, standing nearby, approaches me with a concerned expression. "Yo, D. What"s going on?" he asks.

"Nothing," I lie, walking past him and out of the room, not waiting for him to reply. I head toward Coach"s office, and when I approach the door, I raise my hand to knock. I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then finally knock. After a few moments, a gruff voice growls, "Come in."

The door shuts behind me softly. Coach Walen is sitting at his desk, hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

I clear my throat and say, "Coach, you wanted to see me?"

"Sit," he orders without even glancing in my direction. I sit across from him, placing my bag beside my feet.

Coach closes his laptop and leans back, crossing his tree trunk arms over his chest. He looks at me sternly and asks, "Donnie, what the hell has gotten into you lately?"

He continues when I don"t respond. "I"ve given you enough leeway to let you get your shit together, but I haven't seen much progress," he snaps. I can sense the anger and disappointment in his voice, and it makes me feel guilty for letting him down.

He lets out a deep, frustrated sigh and leans forward, his arms resting heavily on the desk. "Damnit, boy," he begins, his voice low and firm, "I"ve seen you on the field, and it"s no secret that you possess what it takes to succeed. However, your focus seems to be somewhere else, and as a result, your grades have been slipping. This is not acceptable."

"I know, Coach. I"ve been distracted lately," I say, meeting his gaze.

"Distracted? You think distractions are going to cut it in this game?" Coach asks in a harsh tone. "You need to figure this shit out, Donnie. You're our star pitcher, and we can"t have you performing like this."

I nod, feeling a sense of dread creeping up my throat, making it almost impossible to swallow. "I"ve been struggling to balance everything," I confess.

Coach leans forward, his tone softening slightly. "I get it, Donnie. College can be overwhelming, but you can"t let yourself fall behind like this."

He"s right. College is proving to be too much to handle, and I am struggling to keep up with the demands that come with it, along with preparing to be a father and trying to be a regular college guy.

Desperate for any guidance he can give me, I ask, "What can I do?"

"I can offer extra tutoring sessions or study groups to help you catch up. And I"ll check in regularly to ensure you"re staying on track," he responds.

Anxiety and pressure still linger within me. How will I manage everything on my plate and make time for Shorty?

This fucking sucks.

"Thank you, Coach. I won"t let you down."

Coach offers a reassuring smile, his voice filled with encouragement. "I know you can do it, Donnie. I believe in you."

The guys are in the living room, playing Xbox and cheering each other on when I step into the house. Ty spots me and hollers my way, "Wat up, D!"

I nod and wave, already feeling the exhaustion in my bones. Ramsey jumps in, holding up the controller. "Wanna play?"

I shake my head. "Nah, I"m going to head up and study."

I start walking up the stairs when I bump into Alex. He"s been seeing Eva off and on, and I immediately look behind him, hoping she"s not with him.

Thankfully, he"s alone. I let out a sigh of relief and he notices. "Are you okay?"

I nod and force a smile. "Yeah, all good man."

Alex is one of the chilliest dudes I know. He pats my shoulder. "I"ll be out with Payton. I"ll see you tomorrow." He wiggles his eyebrows and heads down the stairs, out the front door, and into the night.

I turn around and open the door to my room. When I step in, the dimly lit space feels suffocating. I flick on the light switch, only to be greeted by a chilling sight. My heart sinks as I see the pieces of torn photographs scattered all over the floor, Shorty"s smiling face torn into jagged fragments.

"What the hell?" I mutter under my breath, my tiredness quickly turning to anger. I kneel and pick up one of the torn pieces. Shorty"s beautiful smile stares back at me from the ripped photograph, a stark contrast to the chaos of my room.

I scan the room, seeing more torn pictures plastered on the walls, crumpled on my desk, and scattered on the bed. Each torn photograph is like a stab to my heart, a cruel reminder that my personal space has been desecrated.

Fury boils inside me, and I slam my fist against the wall, the sharp pain jolting me momentarily out of my haze of disbelief.

"Who the hell did this?" I growl, my voice laced with bitterness. I pace back and forth, my mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and anger. And that"s when I see it—a note taped onto my mirror.

This is just the beginning.

What the fuck does that mean?

I pick up my phone and call Javi.

He picks up after the second ring.

"Delgado," he answers.

"Javi, it"s Donnie. We got a fucking problem."

Javi and Derick arrive at the house twenty minutes later. As soon as they enter, the guys notice the agents" presence and curiously follow us up the stairs.

"What the hell happened?" Ash asks as he walks into my room.

I take a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions inside me. "Someone tore up all of Sadie"s pictures," I explain.

Ty"s brows furrow in concern while Javi and Derick examine the room. "That"s fucked up, man."

Javi turns to Derick, his expression grim. "We may have a stalker on our hands."

Derick nods in agreement.

Javi walks around the room, carefully inspecting the torn pictures. "Looks like this was done in a hurry," he observes, pointing to the ripped edges and crumpled photos.

Derick, meanwhile, examines the windows and doors for signs of forced entry. "Does anything look out of place to you, Donnie?" he asks.

"Not that I can tell," I reply.

"Did you notice anyone coming into his room?" Javi asks the guys.

They all say no.

"We all keep our doors locked when we're not home," Ty says.

Javi glances at each of us. "Do you have any enemies or anyone who might have a grudge against you or Sadie?" he asks.

We all shake our heads.

"It"s probably a good idea to invest in a security camera and alarm," Javi suggests.

"What the hell does that note mean? That"s a threat, isn"t it?" Ash asks, his tone laced with worry.

Javi ignores him and faces me. "I"ll get the crime scene team to sweep your room and the house for prints or any other evidence that could lead us to the person behind this."

"And Shorty? I"m worried about her safety," I say, my heart squeezing in my chest at the mere thought of what could happen to her—again.

"We won't let anything happen to her," he reassures me. "But we need to keep this to ourselves."

"What? Why? I"m not keeping this from her," I snap.

Javi walks up to me until we"re toe to toe. "She"s pregnant and doesn"t need the added stress," he reminds me, and my shoulders droop.

I run my hand through my hair, agitation burning in my veins. "How long do we keep this from her?"

Javi pauses for a moment, as if he's weighing his words carefully. "Only until we can piece together the whole picture and ensure her safety," he responds.

"I don"t like this," I say, shaking my head in frustration.

"I don't either, but we have to play it smart to keep her safe," he says.

I steel myself, ready to face whatever danger may come our way as long as it does not touch her. She is my everything—my reason for being, the anchor that keeps me grounded.

A new ball of danger has been thrown in our path, but I promise to catch every twist and turn that comes our way. With each step I take, I am prepared to run the bases until I know Shorty will always be safe.

My love for her is endless, extending beyond time and space.

There is no boundary to how far I would go to protect her.