Page 27 of Hiding in the Outfield

I lift my gaze to his, throat closing over. “It’s all my fault, Coach.”

My fingers dig into my thighs, and my eyes slam shut, breath trapped in my traitorous lungs. They won’t let me have it.

“Easy, mijo. Mírame.”

I force my eyes open. I’ve heard Skip say that enough times to know it means I’m supposed to look at him.

“Respira,” he instructs, his dark eyes soft. “One step at a time.”

My shirt sticks to my back, sweat clinging like a moist breath to my skin. But I somehow draw in a shaky breath.

“Eso es. Good, Jackson.” He waits patiently for me to gather myself. “Now, take your time. When you’re ready, I’m here.”

His assurance does nothing to unclog my throat. There’s too much understanding, too much…care? Is that what’s reflecting back at me? But instead of fear and shame, something else is restricting my airflow. What does it mean when my coach looks at me with more affection than my parents ever have? The crack in my chest fractures wider.

I swallow hard and do my best to push past it. “I was in the back hall of the bar.” My words are so thick they’re barely intelligible. “I went back there with Nebiolo’s brother. W-willingly. There was no coercion. I-I was the one who—” My voice breaks, the panic roaring back, coating my insides, expanding and strengthening to the point I’m sure it’ll be the end of me. I drop my head into my hands as I desperately try to bring myself back under control. My heart thunders in my chest, like someone’s taking a bat to my sternum over and over.

When I finally feel like I can breathe again, I look back at Dominguez.

“¿Está bien?”

I nod. “Yeah. Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “No need to apologize. Now, I need you to clarify something for me. You said you went with Nebiolo’s brother willingly. You were the one who…what?”

I freeze. I-I can’t say it.

Dominguez rubs his chin, those dark eyes assessing. “You and Devereux are close.”

I shake my head violently.

He arches a brow. “Were close.”

My attention falls. We weren’t, though. But I’m not sure how to explain that. That I’m so good at playing this part that I can appear to be best friends with someone I loathe.

“Did he know you were taking Frankie back there?” The question is soft, but what’s implied in it has my pulse spiking. “I need to know how you were going to end that sentence. You were the one who…”

He’s asking me if I arranged for this. Set the whole thing up.

I shake my head, my breaths coming short and choppy. “No. No. Dev had no idea. I went down that hall, hoping to God no one would find us.” I brace myself, but I can’t stop the tremors jolting through my frame. “I-I was the one who kissed Frankie.”

Skip leans forward, eyes locked on mine. “Keep breathing, mijo. You’re safe here, okay? That was exactly what I needed to know.”

He gives me some time to collect myself, then quietly speaks again. “Do you think you can tell me what happened with Devereux?”

I draw in a shuddering breath. “He-he caught us. And I panicked.” My chest tightens, and it all comes rushing back. Frankie’s laughter. Dev’s glare. The crack. Then silence. Deafening silence. “I shoved Frankie away,” I whisper. “And I knew…I knew what it made Dev think. I know what kind of man Dev is. It was all the ammunition he needed.”

Skip watched me for a moment, eyes searching. “What happened next?”

“He swung at Frankie, dropping him to the floor.” I wipe my shaking, clammy hands on my jeans. “Out c-cold. And Dev tried to go after him even then. I-I finally got to Dev at that point and held him back. That was when Nebiolo, Stone, and Winters showed up.” A bead of sweat drips down my temple. “I was able to drag Dev from the bar.”

Dominguez’s gaze flicks to my cheek. “And how did you get that? That’s fresh.”

My fingers tighten on my leg to avoid touching the scrape on my face. “I might have gotten into it with Dev on the sidewalk after.”

Skip’s jaw sets, and he curses under his breath. “I can’t have my players brawling with each other, Olander. No matter how warranted it may seem. Violence is not the answer. If that fight hadn’t been minor, it could have made all this a hell of a lot more complicated.”

He pauses, his scowl melting away. “You did the right thing coming to me, though. Telling me what you did. I know that wasn’t easy.” His voice gentles. “And thank you. All these details are incredibly important for us to have. They stay between us and HR.” His eyebrows lift meaningfully. “We will handle Devereaux.”