The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game 1)

“I’m sorry I left you alone tonight. I should have been with you. ” His face twisted with anguish.

My heart ached for his self-inflicted guilt. “Jack, I should be able to walk through a neighborhood without getting beat up and robbed. ”

“But if I hadn’t gone early. If I’d been there…” His head rested on my lap and he clasped his arms around my back.

“I’m glad you weren’t there,” I admitted.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I could never live with the guilt if you got hurt because of me. ”

He grimaced at my admission. “Kitten, I’d break my fucking pitching arm if it meant keeping you safe. ”

My heart jumped inside my chest. “You really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean. ” I gave him a pained wink, reminding him about my list.

“I’m not,” he said confidently before a knock on the front door interrupted our exchange. “I’ll be right back. Sit tight. ” He kissed my forehead and I watched him walk out of my room.

My phone beeped, alerting me to a text message. Melissa. Oh my God, are you okay? Dean just called me. I’m coming back.

Don’t come back. I’m fine. I’ll call you after I talk to the police, I responded, knowing she’d be sick with worry.

The police? What the hell? Call me as soon as you can. I’m freaking out!!!!!!!!

Her text made me laugh. I think it was all the exclamation points. Or the fact that I could hear her voice whenever I read her words. Either way, I typed out another response. Call you soon. Don’t freak. Jack’s here.

“Hey, Kitten?” Jack peered into my room, his hand gripping the edge of the door. “The police are here. ”

I tossed my cell phone on the bed before pushing my body off. Two uniformed police officers were waiting for me when I walked into the living room. One held a notepad while the other gripped a camera that caught my gaze and reminded me of what I’d lost.

That asshole stole my camera.

I no longer own a camera.

I?

?m camera-less.

Tears started to roll down my cheeks as I blinked in vain to stop them. Jack rushed to my side and gathered me close, wiping them away tenderly with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t believe he stole my camera. ” I closed my eyes tightly as the drops continued to fall, feeling like a hole was opening in the pit of my stomach.

“We really need to get your statement, miss,” one of the officers prompted.

I sniffed once and looked up, swiping at the moisture under my eyes. “Okay. ”

“Your brother already told us what happened, but we’d like you to corroborate his story. He also said that more happened once he left the scene and we’ll need you to give us those details as well. Okay?” the officer asked, while reading from his notepad.

I looked at Jack with confusion before looking back at the officer. “My brother?”

“Yeah. Um, Dean Carter? He said he was Cassie Andrews’s brother,” the officer noted.

“How’s he doing? Is he okay?” My concern for Dean instigated a rush of questions.

“He doesn’t need stitches but has a nasty cut on his head, not to mention a raging headache. It probably wouldn’t hurt to have him seen by a doctor,” the other officer chimed in.

I looked at Jack and he waved his hand to calm me down. They read Dean’s statement out loud and I agreed with his account, noticing as Jack clenched his jaw. I reached down for his hand and squeezed it tightly in mine. I filled in the blanks from when Brett carried Dean away until I walked to Cole, watching again as Jack cringed and the veins in his neck bulged. Seeing him in pain caused an ache to form inside my chest. But I’ll admit I liked the fact that he was so pissed off about the whole thing. I’d never felt more safe or protected in my life.

The officers asked me simple questions that I had already answered and nothing stumped me until the last one. “Can you give us any idea of what the perp looks like? Would you be able to identify him in a lineup?”