Page 35 of Deadly Secrets

“Not with me,” I reply. “But I’m sure someone has an extra one I could borrow.”

Come on son, ask me to play tomorrow.

I can see Remi holding the steering wheel so tight her knuckles are starting to turn white. She is waiting for him to ask just as much as I am.

“Mom says you’re a southpaw like me.”

“I am,” I affirm. I’m actually ambidextrous and can use both my hands very well but with writing and throwing I use my left hand. It seems my boy is more like me than I thought.

“I’ve got an extra glove that’s not fully broken in yet but it’s still good,” Ryder offers, and I turn from the front seat and look back at him. I relax my body to not seem so intimidating.

“I’m a little rusty. Maybe we can toss the ball around in the yard to help loosen up my muscles,” I offer, hoping he’ll take the bait.

“Yeah, okay,” he responds and I catch a small smirk before he turns his head and looks out the window. Just as I’m turning back to face forward, he adds, “Do you want to play in the game with the other dads tomorrow? Coach tells us in between seasons baseball is like riding a bicycle; once you learn you never forget. Maybe if you practice a little it’ll all come back.”

I physically stop breathing. In my head I had this scenario already played out but now that he’s actually asked, my mind is jumbled and a lump in my throat is blocking the words to come out.

Finally, I take a deep breath and try to keep my voice steady.

“I’d be honored to play in the game.”

He nods his head, “Cool.”

We pull into the garage not long after that and as we are grabbing the sack of groceries, the fucker Bulldog just so happens to appear. Bet the fucknut was watching out the window like a creep. There’s supposed to be a big party tonight at the clubhouse and I’m wondering why he isn’t already there since he’s the host.

“Get everything for the game?” Bulldog asks.

“We did,” Remi answers with a smile, not understanding the tension between the two of us.

“Hey, Cole?” Ryder calls out as he goes over to a bag hanging up on the wall.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Is it okay if maybe…” I can hear the nervousness in his voice and I know what he’s about to ask him. Bulldog better be man enough to accept this or I might pull the gun tucked in the back of my waistband and shoot him between the eyes. “It’s just that at the game tomorrow…” Ryder starts shifting from one foot to the other and is having a hard time keeping eye contact.

“Your dad can fill in,” Bulldog finishes. There isn’t any force behind his tone, which surprises me.

“I still want you to come,” Ryder hurries and says to help soften the blow to Bulldog’s bruised ego.

“It’s okay to want your parents there, Ry, and yes, I’ll still be there cheering you on,” he says and you physically see all the uncertainty and tightness leave my son’s muscles.

“Cool.” Ryder grabs something from the bag and pulls out two gloves before turning to me. “Wanna practice now?”

“Sure do,” I say. “Just give me a sec and I’ll meet you in the backyard.”

“I’ll take those in while you toss the ball,” Remi offers and grabs all the bags as Ryder takes off into the house.

Once Bulldog and I are alone I face him, crossing my arms over my chest. He looks around to make sure they both are gone.

“What are you doing, Reaper?” he asks.

“What am I doing? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I throw back at him. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the last twenty-four hours. I just found out that the woman I was sent to prison for and loved had my son thirteen years ago and is living here and not missing.”

“She has a good life here,” he states. “They both do.”

“Did you miss the part where she told us that she traveled from state to state, following me from prison to prison, just to be close to me? Her home is wherever I am,” I declare.

“She’s been doing just fine with me,” he tosses at me like it’s some dig. “Both of them are.”