Chapter 36

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SIX

ALEXANDER

I drive home in shock and disbelief. What the fuck just happened?

We’d had a good evening. A great evening. It was different, so domesticated, and I can’t deny I liked it. Dinner and hanging out with Tyler, the secret touches under the table, the anticipation of watching TV just to spend time with Dani. Hoping for a goodnight kiss or even a hot make-out session, knowing there wasn’t more tonight, but this isn’t about sex. It’s about her. Them. Us. I was anticipating our next evening like this. Maybe a lifetime of evenings like this. Tonight was the first time I ever had that thought in my life. I thought I'd be single forever until she made me rethink everything just by trusting me. Until she didn’t. She didn’t tell me. Trust me.

FUCK!

I play it all back in my head. I cleaned the kitchen, trying to help her in little ways. Give her one less thing to worry about. She has so much to do, and I don’t know how she does it all. Then I saw a stack of legal-looking papers, and my curiosity got the better of me. I’ve fallen under her spell that I practically forgot how we met. Why we met. Fucking Pauly Jackson.

I shut him down on my end. How did I forget about his ongoing impact on Dani? Because her sunshine made me forget. Her happiness, kindness, forgiveness. She made me forget there was a scumbag still walking the streets. She made me forget she was assaulted.

But she had a deposition last week. Why didn’t she tell me about it? I would have been there for her, World Series be damned. How was it? Was it difficult to relive the incident? I can’t imagine having to answer all those questions. Was Jackson there? And they’ve set a court date for December? Why did she close me out? I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me.

Because she thinks you’re using her, that’s why. Because she thinks you see her as a charity case. A victim. That label never described Dani Franklin. She’s so many things, but a victim isn’t one of them. Strong. Confident. Protective. Loving. Caring. Yes, she was a victim in the legal sense, but she’s not someone who cowers or hides. She’s brave. She’s so many things, but never a victim.

Does it boil my blood thinking about that bruise and someone hurting her? Absolutely. If I were ever to see him again, I’m not confident I wouldn’t kill him. But he’s not worth it. He’s not worth us. I can’t believe Pauly Jackson is between us right now. Another reason to hate him.

I walk into my place and find Trevor stretched out on the couch playing video games. I hear the familiar music of Mario Cart and almost lose it. I pour a large glass of bourbon and gulp it down. I refill the glass and snap at Trevor, “Can you fucking grow up and stop acting like a six-year-old?!” I storm past, drink in hand, and head to my bedroom.

“Whoa, whoa, there, Xan, what happened?” Trevor hits pause on the TV, and the silence surrounds us. I freeze, realizing I don’t want to go into my bedroom, maybe ever again. I’ll still smell Dani o n my sheets and picture her perfect body with mine. I also don’t want to talk this out with Trevor. I want to fix this if that’s possible.

“Fucking Pauly Jackson.” I grind my teeth so hard I might break a molar.

“What? Did something happen?”

Trevor’s on his feet and limps to get in front of me. He looks at the glass in my hand and quirks his eyebrow at me. I give him the same look back and down the amber liquid in one gulp. The burning doesn’t match the burning in my veins.

“What happened?” he bites out, his mood changing to mirror mine.

I run my hand down my face, trying to erase the past hour. Shaking my head, I quietly say, “I don’t know.” I feel defeated, the fight leaving my body. She doesn’t want me.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning.”

Instead of responding, I walk back to fill my glass up and head for the balcony. The cool evening air might help me think. Trevor joins me with a beer, turns on the fire, and sits silently with me.

Silence is not his strong suit, and he holds out as long as he can. Finally, he speaks. “Is Dani okay? Tyler?” I can hear the fear in his voice. Yeah, I’m scared too, buddy.

“I guess.” That’s part of the problem. I don’t know if she’s okay. She didn’t tell me about what she’s been going through. And she’s not with me, so no, she’s not okay. We’re not okay.

“You guess? Come on, man, talk to me.” Trevor is one of the few people who can accept my grumpiness and let me be. Apparently, there’s a limit to his tolerance, because he’s pushing me to open up.

I gulp the rest of my drink down. I know it’s not the answer, but it eases the pain in my chest. Something to numb the loss I feel. I sigh.

“She had to give a deposition last week.” I need to shut off these emotions and think about the facts. These fucking emotions hav e me losing my shit and unable to think about what happened. All I want to do is bang on her door, take her in my arms, and protect her from the world. But I can’t do that now because I make her uncomfortable. How did we get here?

“Okay. So it didn’t go well?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, man. You’re losing me here. Why don’t you know?”

“Because she didn’t fucking tell me!” So the cork’s out of the bottle. I stand and pace, the energy coursing through my veins. “She had to face lawyers and an abuser alone, and she didn’t fucking tell me. I found the paperwork in her kitchen, and she got pissed.” I go to take another gulp of my drink, but the glass is empty. I slam it on the floor, the crystal shattering into a million pieces, just like my heart.

I turn back to Trevor, tears filling my eyes. “She thinks I’m using her. That she’s a fucking charity case. How? How can she even think that? What does that say about how she sees me?” How does she not know she has rearranged my DNA? I’m a different man with her, a better man because of her.

Trevor’s thoughtful when he quietly asks the question I don’t have an answer for. “Why would she think that? What’s happened that would make her believe that?”

I sit back down in my chair, defeated. “I don’t know. I fucking don’t know.” I let the tears fall.

Is that how she feels? What have I done to make her feel that way? I try to think back on conversations, but it hurts too much.

After a few minutes, I give in to the whiskey, allowing it to numb my mind.

“Maybe it was something from the deposition?” Trevor often thinks out loud. Most creative people do. Where I keep everything in, he lets everything out. We are an opposites attract friendship. Like me and Dani, her sunshine to my, well, not sunshine .

“Is it too late to call Jack?” I mumble. I check my watch, still unsure about the time.

“Yeah. Let’s not do that now. And is he even in town?” After the Series, we shut down operations for a few weeks for everyone. It’s normal for the players to scatter for the offseason, but we wanted to reward the entire organization. It was a total team effort. We don’t report back until after Thanksgiving.

“I don’t know.” I start to get up for another drink. “But if anyone can help, it’s him.”

“Hold tight,” Trevor says, touching my shoulder to keep me down. He hobbles back inside while I begin to formulate a strategy. It’s what I do. Tackle a problem head-on. This is too important to play nice and take the subtle route.

Trevor places the fresh glass in front of me, half a pour compared to my last two, but I hold it, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass.

“What are you thinking?” Trevor’s hand creeps toward my phone. He’s taking it from me to prevent me from drunk texting anyone. It’s probably for the best.

“I’m thinking I need to round up my lawyers and bury Pauly Jackson. And if they can’t do it legally, I’ll hire someone who can do it literally.” With that decision made, I get up and head to the guest room. My bed is off-limits until I have Dani back. The thought of her scent on my pillow makes me feral.

A good night’s sleep will clear my head when I head into battle. People think I’m a hard ass. They haven’t seen anything yet.