“Travis!” Lucy yells happily as she flings herself into his waiting arms. He holds her tightly while he glares at Elijah.
“Put my daughter down,” Elijah blurts out as he steps toward Travis. My instinct is to protect Lucy. I reach for her, meeting Travis’s gaze. He lets her go, but not very willingly.
“Lucy, please go to your room.” I point her in that direction and give her a small shove. I know she wants to see Travis, but now is not a good time. He’s been drinking, and I have a feeling nothing good is going to come from the brewing showdown with Elijah.
“So this is the sperm shitter?” Travis asks, pointing at Elijah. I want to laugh at the one-liner but know better.
“Can we talk tomorrow?” I ask him again.
“You heard her—leave. Besides, you have no business being here,” Elijah adds.
“Are you fucking him?” Travis blurts out. “Is that why you broke things off with me? Because of this pecker diddler?” He points at Elijah, seething.
“Are you sleeping with him?” Elijah decides to throw the same question out. I cover my face and scream into my hands, thankful for the muffled sound.
“What do you care if we’re fucking? That’s none of your business, unless of course she’s letting you into her bed now, too. Are you, Saylor?”
“Travis, please stop,” I beg him. “Please just go.” When I look at him, there are tears in my eyes. I let them fall, hoping he can grasp the severity of the situation. Elijah brushes past me, grabbing his coat off the chair.
“I warned you, Saylor, and apparently you didn’t take me seriously. I’ll see you in court.”
Elijah doesn’t even bother slamming the door for full effect; he calmly walks out and disappears down the hall.
“About fucking time he left,” Travis says, stepping closer to me. When he reaches for my waist, I push him away with all the anger building inside.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I yell, pounding his chest. “Get out! Get out!” I say the words through sobs as I continue to push him toward the door. Without even knowing it, Travis sealed my fate with my ex. Elijah swore he’d leave everything alone if Travis wasn’t a part of my life, and I was stupid enough to lie and tell him that Travis meant nothing. That all we had done was kiss, and that was the night at the skating rink. That Travis would never come around to see Lucy.
I lied to protect Lucy. I lied to protect myself. And once again, I’m going to lose everything because of Travis Kidd.
Twenty-Nine
Travis
Whenever I wake up with a hangover, I often ask myself why I drank so much and promise that I’ll never do it again. That promise is something I’ve been breaking for the past few days, and up until now, I didn’t care.
I had hoped the booze would muddy my memory of last night, but it hasn’t. Every word she said, every expression she had, every punch to my chest to get me out of her apartment is crystal clear. I fucked up, and I don’t even know how. All I know is that the sobs I heard on the other side of Saylor’s door last night were enough to sober my stupid ass up.
For hours, I sat against her door, until a resident suggested I leave or they were going to call the police. If I hadn’t been arrested earlier, I probably would have encouraged them to dial Boston’s Finest. Another man might understand my plight. The woman that I want to be with kicked me out of her house, and while I probably deserved it, I didn’t want to leave until she stopped crying. I didn’t want to be the one to walk away in her time of need.
But as egos go—and believe me, mine is huge—I couldn’t let it get in the way any longer, so I walked my drunk ass back home with my tail between my legs, only to stay up all night while the booze wore off, knowing that I had to live with whatever I’d done to Saylor.
She’s the last person in the world who I want to hurt, and she’s the one person who can save me. Not only from a life behind bars, but also from myself. When I’m with her, I’m a different person. The cocky son of a bitch who everyone is used to doesn’t exist when she’s near me, and frankly, that is the man I like, or at least I used to. It’s easier being a fucking douche. It’s second nature to me and comes with the territory of being named one of the city’s most eligible bachelors.
Except when I’m with Saylor, I can be the man who hides in the shadow of that Travis Kidd. I can be the kind of man who doesn’t have to have a one-liner available or wink in order to get a phone number. When I’m with her, life outside of baseball starts to have a meaning, a fucking purpose.
This morning, I’m meeting with Ryan Stone. I shouldn’t be here without Jeffrey or Irvin, but I am. As far as I’m concerned, unless Saylor has a change of heart, my career is over. I know I can subpoena her to testify, but I’d never be able to live with myself if she lost her job or the judge revoked her probation because of me. No one is ever going to understand my situation, or my decision, and that’s okay as long as I do.
Stone has a sweet setup in his office with his floor-to-ceiling wall made up of glass overlooking our snow-covered field.
“It’s a great view when the team is down there practicing,” Stone says as he walks into his office. I know I’ve called him away from his vacation, his family time, but this is important.
“I can imagine. I always thought I’d find myself in a front office position after retirement,” I say, staring out at the field.
“You’d do very well within any organization,” he says. I turn and shrug, keeping my hands buried deep within the pockets of my pants.
“Maybe in another life.”
Stone motions for me to sit down across from him, and I do. He appraises me for a minute before leaning back in his chair. He’s younger than me and has done a hell of a job with the Renegades.