Stealing Home by Tara Wyatt

Fourteen

“Hey, man, I got some news for you,” said Javi as he strode up to where Dylan lounged in his chair in front of his locker. He glanced up from his phone, which he’d been staring at, waiting for Maggie to text him back. She’d seemed a little off the past couple of days, and when he’d questioned her about it, she’d told him she was just tired and busy with work, but something told him there was more to it than that. He was hoping they’d be able to connect after tonight’s game so he could see her in person to make sure she was okay.

“What’s up?” he asked, tossing his phone down.

Javi smiled, his eyebrows bouncing up and down. “You’re the AL’s player of the month.”

Dylan grinned. “Shit, really?”

Javi’s smile grew. “Shit, really.”

“Thanks for letting me know, man.” He suddenly felt eager to get out on the field. That, and to celebrate with Maggie. In a way, it all felt so surreal. He’d been at such a low point at the beginning of the season almost three months ago, struggling to hit, feeling the growing resentment of his teammates. Getting traded to Dallas had felt like a punishment, but now he saw it as a fresh start and the chance to finally have everything he’d ever wanted. He’d started hitting again, finding his timing and his rhythm. He’d started making the spectacular catches he was known for. Against all odds, he’d reconnected with Maggie, and this time, he wasn’t going to let his father meddle. No fucking way.

His phone buzzed from the shelf where he’d tossed it and he eagerly scooped it up, but then frowned when he saw the message.

Maggie: Hey, I don’t think I’m up for getting together tonight. Work’s been busy and I’ve had a headache all day. Rain check?

Dylan: Sure. No problem.

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the screen as he debated whether or not to potentially pry the lid off of a can of worms. Did he want to know the answer to the question echoing through his brain? His fingers decided for him, moving over the keys before he’d made up his mind. Before he’d been able to talk himself out of it

Dylan: Are we okay?

He stared at his phone screen, his pulse throbbing in his temples as three little dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared for what felt like an eternity. The fact that she was typing, then deleting, then typing set him on edge, a cold pressure gathering in his chest. He didn’t know why they wouldn’t be okay—nothing had changed—except that he’d felt a distance opening up between them lately, and he didn’t know why. If he’d done something, he wanted to know so he could fix it.

Maggie: Yep, all good.

The cold expanded out of his chest and through the rest of him, making him feel numb. He didn’t know what was wrong, but clearly something was. He might not be a genius, but he knew enough to know that something was up, either with her or them, and the fact that she was being cagey about it had dread settling like a rock in his stomach. He wanted to call her, to not let this fester, but it was time to hit the field for the pre-game warmup, and he didn’t have time. Trying to put the worry and the fear churning through him out of his mind, he rose and headed for the stairs that led to the dugout.

* * *

Maggie sat at her desk, staring blankly at her computer screen. She yawned and then blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the email open in front of her. Grabbing her cup of coffee, she took a hearty swallow and set it down too hard, sending a little sloshing over the rim of the mug.

“Shit.” Hastily, she reached for a tissue to sop up the light brown puddle soaking the edges of a stack of papers beside her keyboard. She rubbed at her eyes, feeling bleary and fuzzy, before realizing she’d probably just smeared mascara everywhere. With a sigh, she retrieved a compact mirror from her desk drawer so she could clean up the mess she’d made.

The reflection that greeted her was a tired one. Bags beneath her eyes, her skin a little too pale. She hadn’t slept well last night. Guilt had nibbled away at her for blowing Dylan off and for not being honest about what was on her mind. But at the same time, she knew she needed some space to figure out how she really felt about the possibility of a future with him. Any kind of logic seemed to fly out the window when he was around. All night, she’d tossed and turned and stared at the ceiling as she’d asked herself the same questions over and over again. Did she love Dylan? Yes. Did she want a future with him? Yes. Was she prepared to lose herself, sacrificing her hopes and dreams on the altar of his career? She didn’t know. What if their entire existence as a couple centered around him and his baseball career? What if he expected that of her?

What if no matter how much she loved him, fate, or circumstances, or whatever just weren’t on their side? She didn’t know how she’d survive another heartbreak. But she also didn’t know how she’d survive the slow, steady erasure of herself, either. She knew she needed to talk to him. She just didn’t know what to say. The words weren’t coming, swallowed up by her fear and uncertainty.

A perfunctory knock sounded at her door, bringing her back to the present, and her boss poked his head in. “Hey, do you have a minute?”

She nodded and began following him back to his office at the other end of the hallway. As she walked, she passed the glassed-in conference room where a group of men in suits were gathered around the table. One of them turned, and Caleb McCormick’s eyes bored into her, his lips curving up in the tiniest hint of a smile. A chill shivered down her spine, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Her steps faltered, and she glanced from Caleb to Kevin’s back, a few feet in front of her. When she looked back at Caleb, his smile had grown. Maggie’s stomach heaved as she wondered just what the hell was going on.

She sat down in the chair across from Kevin’s desk. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Sweat prickled along her hairline as a feeling of dread washed over her.

“Maggie, I’m sorry, but I have to let you go,” he said, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes focused on the front edge of his desk.

A sudden coldness hit her right in the stomach, like a whirling blizzard, freezing and churning. Her mouth fell open, and she pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m sorry, what?” Her mind reeled as she tried to think of what she’d done to bring this on. “Did I do something wrong?”

Kevin shook his head slowly, almost reluctantly. “It’s against the organization’s policy for you to date a player, and it’s come to my attention that you’re dating Dylan McCormick.”

Maggie frowned, her eyebrows slamming together. She’d never before heard of this policy in her years working for the team. Fury gripped her and her hands started to shake. “This is bullshit, Kevin. I’ve never heard of this rule before, and I’m not the first person here to date a player. What’s really going on?” she demanded.

But he didn’t answer her question, just picked at an invisible thread on his sleeve. Coward. “Please clear out your desk and be out of the building within the next hour.”

Maggie didn’t say anything as she rose, her legs numb, her hands balled into fists. She had half a mind to go barging into that conference room and demanding what the hell Caleb was doing here. Who the fuck did he think he was? But when she walked past the conference room again, it was empty. Hot tears pricked at her eyes as she headed back to her office. Humiliation, shame, loss. Failure. Powerlessness. Caleb had done this, all because he didn’t think she was good enough for his son. People stared at her as she walked, and her feet moved faster. God, she just wanted to get the hell out of here. Go home and figure out what she was supposed to do.

When she stepped into her office, it was as though she’d slammed into a concrete wall. Caleb stood behind her desk, his hands clasped casually behind his back as he looked out the window. Rage, hot and dangerous, filled Maggie, sending her blood pounding through her ears.

“How dare you,” she said through clenched teeth, and Caleb spun, that same malicious smile on his lips. It was eerie to see someone who looked so much like Dylan wear such a cold, heartless expression.

“How dare I what?” he asked innocently, lifting a hand in the air in mock confusion. “Let the board of directors know that one of their employees was breaking the code of conduct? As an investor in the team, I thought they had a right to know.”

To her horror, Maggie felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she hastily brushed it away. “Why? Why do you hate me so damn much? Why are you trying to ruin my life?”

He moved around from behind her desk, an appraising look on his face. “Maggie, dear, I don’t hate you. I’m just doing what’s best for my son and the McCormick line. If I hated you, I wouldn’t have paid for your college tuition, would I?”

Maggie grimaced in confusion. “What are you talking about? I had a scholarship.”

“Right. Provided by yours truly.”

Maggie shook her head as her confusion gave way to a wary disbelief. “No. That’s not true.”

“It is. You see, all those years ago, I gave Dylan a choice. He could go off to Vanderbilt and keep seeing you, or he could let you go and I’d make sure you got an education. He made his choice, and you got something you never would’ve had access to otherwise.”

She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She almost felt as though she’d been slapped, or doused with icy cold water. Her entire body vibrated with the shock of learning the truth—the full truth, the truth Dylan had neglected to tell her. Her mind raced back to the dress, to how accepting it had made her feel. A college education was so much more. It was tens of thousands of dollars. His father had manipulated Dylan, but then Dylan had turned around and manipulated her. Just like he’d manipulated her by breaking all the rules of their arrangement. Just like he’d manipulated her by not telling her the truth about why he’d really broken up with her.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Caleb smiled, a cold, vindictive twist of his lips. “I thought you had a right to know.”

She nodded, her head jerking back and forth. “And why get me fired?”

“Because there are consequences when people don’t do as I ask. I asked Dylan to stay away from you. Consider your job collateral damage.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He chuckled. “Maybe so. But I’m an asshole who wins. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her vision blurred around the edges, and for a second, she felt like she couldn’t quite catch her breath. She snatched her purse off of her desk and headed for the door on unsteady legs. Caleb’s voice made her slow her pace.

“I know you don’t believe me. Ask him. It’s the truth.”

But that was just it. She did believe him, and that was even worse.

* * *

Dylan stood in his living room staring out the windows and into the night. After tonight’s game—which Maggie hadn’t come to, begging off, saying she had a headache—his muscles were sore, his body tired. Normally, when he felt like this, his mind was peaceful with the satisfaction of effort and hard work. But not tonight. Tonight, his brain felt like a swarm of angry bees. Something was wrong between him and Maggie, but fuck if he knew what it was. She’d been pulling away and had shut down any attempts at conversation today. He’d tried calling her after the game, but his call had gone straight to voice mail, meaning she’d either turned it off and gone to bed, or she’d hit ignore.

He took a long pull on the bottle of water in his hand and then crumpled it, taking out his frustrations on the plastic. He almost didn’t hear the soft knock on his door; it was so quiet, so meek. He almost didn’t recognize it as Maggie’s, but he knew it was her. No one else would be knocking on his door like that at nearly midnight. When he pulled open the door, the sight of her was like a punch in the gut. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her face was pale, highlighting the dark circles under her eyes. She was still beautiful—she’d always be beautiful to him, no matter what—but right here, right now, she looked like hell.

He moved to pull her into his arms, acting completely on instinct, but she flinched away and stepped inside. Apprehension trickled through him, making him hyperaware of his body—the tightness of his skin, the pounding of his heart in his ears, the nauseating pull in his stomach. She moved to the window, almost exactly to where he’d been standing.

“We need to talk.” Her voice came out like sandpaper, rough and gritty.

“Okay,” he said cautiously, moving closer and sinking down onto the couch. That apprehension turned into full-blown panic. No good conversations ever started with the words we need to talk. “What’s going on?”

She stood with her back to him, her arms crossed over her chest. He could see the ghost of her reflection in the windows. “I got fired today.”

A tiny bit of relief rose up in him—maybe this wasn’t about them after all. “Shit, Mags, I’m really sorry. That sucks. What happened?”

She whirled, her eyes bright, her fists clenched at her sides. “Your father, that’s what happened.”

Dylan frowned, not following at all as any relief he’d been feeling vanished completely. “What?”

“Apparently he’s an investor in the team, and there’s some rule about employees not being allowed to date players. He complained to the board of directors and got me fired for dating you.”

Red seared the edges of Dylan’s vision, and he pushed up off of the couch. “Are you fucking serious right now?” When Maggie merely nodded, Dylan shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that pain radiated down his neck. “Goddamn him. Why would he do that?”

“He said my job was collateral damage because he didn’t get his way.”

Cursing his father, his name, everything, Dylan laid his hands on Maggie’s shoulders. She tensed, but didn’t pull away. “I swear to you Mags, I’ll fix this. Whatever it takes. I’m not going to let him fuck with your life or with us.” Dylan felt like an idiot for not seeing this coming. His father was a controlling, manipulative bastard. He should’ve just kept Maggie the hell away from him.

“Right, not like you did ten years ago.” Her voice was cold, harsh, and she stepped away from him, putting distance between them.

“What do you mean?”

For a second, she held his eyes, as though willing him to speak. But he didn’t know what she wanted him to say, and then apparently the opportunity was gone because she made an exasperated sound and threw her hands up in the air.

“I know, Dylan! I know. About the scholarship, and the choice he gave you. I know about the lie you’ve been telling me ever since you came back into my life.”

Panic mingled with remorse, settling like a rock in Dylan’s gut. “Will you at least let me explain?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him with hard, guarded eyes. But she didn’t say no, so he plowed ahead.

“Ten years ago, yeah, he gave me a choice. I could stay with you, or, if I let you go, he’d make sure you got a good education. It wasn’t easy, but I did what I thought was best for you at the time. I regretted it—fuck, I’ve spent ten years regretting letting you go—but the choice was made and the deal was done. I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m sorry that I let him manipulate me. I’m sorry.”

“And when were you going to tell me about this? About the truth as to why we broke up?”

He shook his head slowly, and she moved toward him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I spent ten goddamn years wondering why I hadn’t been good enough for you. Wondering why you’d taken my heart, my virginity, and my trust and smashed them on the ground into a hundred broken shards. Wondering how you could do something like that.”

“I’m sorry, Magnolia. I’m so sorry.” The words felt hollow as he said them, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“You could’ve talked to me about the choice he’d given you. But instead, you manipulated me and made decisions for me, playing with my life. And now, you’ve lied to me. I asked you—more than once—why you really broke up with me, and you didn’t breathe a word of this. Still playing with my life.” She stopped and took a breath, her chest heaving. “Well, guess what Dylan McCormick? My life isn’t a fucking toy! It’s my life.” Tears welled and then spilled down her cheeks as the weight of everything he’d done crashed down on him. He tried to pull her into his arms, to give her some comfort, to desperately hang onto her, but she spun away from him. He felt like he’d just fallen off a cliff and was hanging on to the edge by his fingertips, scrambling frantically to get back onto firmer ground.

She took a shuddering breath as she stared out the window. “I’m not something to be bought and manipulated and used. You did it once, and you did it again. Will you ever see me as your equal? Will you ever see me as someone whose life, whose ambitions and happiness have as much value and importance as yours?”

“Of course I see you that way. Maggie, listen—”

She spun and cut him off with a raised hand. “No, you listen. I gave you every piece of me, and you couldn’t even do me the courtesy of telling me what was going on. Now, you come back into my life, you break all the rules we agreed on and barrel your way back in—to my bed, to my heart, everything. And you can’t even tell me the fucking truth. How am I supposed to give up everything for someone who plays with me like that?” She bit her lip and shook her head slowly. “I can’t. I just can’t.” She turned back around to face the window again.

Dylan felt as though he were trying to move through quicksand. His brain, his body, nothing was working the way he wanted it to. He couldn’t seem to form words to dispute everything she was saying.

“Maggie, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I know that. I was…shit, I was scared.”

“Because you knew what you’d done and how it’d make me feel. God, I can’t believe you let your father treat me like a charity case.”

He moved behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

She turned, emotions flickering across her face, one after the other, chasing each other like shadows. “You can’t. And even if you could, it wouldn’t be up to me to tell you how to do it.”

He wanted so badly to pull her into his arms, but knew he couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him, and deservedly so. He’d fucked everything up so completely. If he’d been honest with her, they wouldn’t be here. Sure, his father still would’ve played his games, but the impact wouldn’t be the same. He’d been so naïve to think that they could just start over without the weight of the past crushing them. That once she’d figured out she still loved him, the past wouldn’t matter.

But then, he hadn’t known just how deep her fear of not being good enough for him ran. He should’ve known, should’ve taken the time to figure it out, but he’d been so busy charging forward that he’d been blind to it. It made him both an asshole and an idiot, as far as he was concerned.

He wanted to blame his father, but really he could only blame himself. He tried so hard not to be like him, and yet here they were, Maggie livid with him for manipulating her.

“I’m gonna go,” she said, slipping around him and heading for the door. “Good bye, Dylan. Please don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t email me. We’re through.” She closed the door behind her with a quiet click and she was gone.