The Other Game (The Perfect Game 4)

He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, turning the truck toward home. When he glanced at me a few blocks later, his eyes were a little wild.

“We had sex before I left. I told her I loved her, and she doesn’t fucking trust me. At all. She never even considered that I was innocent.” He clenched his jaw, looking straight ahead as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I can’t do anything right by this girl. She knows how different she is to me, and she never even gave me a shot. She tried and convicted me before even asking my side.”

The words flowed from my brother’s mouth like I’d never heard before, full of emotion. His pain was evident, and my heart hurt for him. My mind spun as I tried to come up with something to say that might make it better.

“Put yourself in her shoes,” I suggested, surprising myself.

“Whose side are you on?” he asked bitterly as we cruised through the side streets, avoiding the freeway. Jack usually did that when he needed time to think, and I knew he needed that now.

“Yours. But I’m just saying.”

Jack’s phone blared, and he glanced down at it before pressing Ignore.

“Was that her?”

“Yeah,” he said, fuming. “I can’t talk to her while I’m driving. Or right now. I’m too pissed off.”

“What are you going to do?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I wondered if this would be the end of him and Cassie. The thought made me sad, which surprised me. Jack and Cassie weren’t perfect, by any means, but they were a good match. They both had issues, but I’d never thought those issues were bigger than the two of them together.

“I need to talk to Gran,” he blurted, interrupting my thoughts.

Good idea. I smiled to myself. Gran had a way of seeing things clearly when we couldn’t. She lived for this kind of stuff.

Jack parked his truck at the curb in front of our house and practically jogged inside. I grabbed his bag and had to hustle to keep up.

“Gran!” he called out as he burst through the front door.

“Jack! How was Texas?” Gran beamed at him as she came out of the kitchen. “We watched your game on Dean’s computer. That was fun.” She gave him a tight squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before really looking at him, then sobered. “What’s the matter?”

Jack started pacing back and forth in the living room. “It’s Cassie. She—” He paused, seemingly unsure of where to start.

“Come on,” Gran said calmly, and shook her head at Gramps as he shuffled in with a big smile on his face, ready to welcome Jack home. “Let me get you some lemonade. I just made it this morning.”

Hanging his head, Jack followed her into the kitchen before sitting down at the table. Gramps and I were right on their heels, not wanting to miss this conversation.

Gran poured us each a glass and sat down at the kitchen table with the rest of us before looking at Jack. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“Kitten thinks that I cheated on her!” Jack shouted.

Gramps laughed, apparently at the nickname, and when we shot him a concerned look, he straightened up and said, “Who’s Kitten?”

Jack frowned. “Sorry, Gramps. Cassie. I call her Kitten and she hates it, so I keep doing it.”

Gramps shot me a conspiratorial grin and I held back a smile, knowing what would come next. Gran kicked him under the table.

“Anyway,” Jack said, “apparently she saw some pictures of me from Texas letting this chick into my hotel room.”

Gran raised a hand in the air to stop him. “And why were you letting a girl into your room?”

“She was there for Brett. But Cass saw these pictures and just assumed the worst of me without even giving me a chance to explain. She’s so damn stubborn.” Jack shook his head before taking a sip of his lemonade.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Gran raised an eyebrow at Gramps before looking back at Jack. “I understand why you’re upset, and you have every right to be. But you also need to look at this from her point of view as well. I’m sure she’s heard all about the Jack Carter that existed before she came along. And I’m trying to think of how I would feel if I had seen something like that. My heart wouldn’t have wanted to believe it, but sometimes it’s hard to argue with what you see with your eyes.”

“But what she saw was wrong,” I added, wanting to contribute to the conversation.

“She didn’t know that,” Gran said. “She only knew what she saw. Or what she thought she was seeing. It wasn’t right of her to mistrust you so easily, and I’m sure that had to hurt.” She reached out for Jack and rested her hand on top of his.