Stealing Home (Callahan Family Book 2) Page 4

  “How are you feeling? How are the girls?” Walker seems to change directions.

  The night is cooling down fast for Pennsylvania in November. I wrap my arms around myself, both because my bones are chilling and because being in such close proximity to Walker is giving me goose bumps.

  “We’re okay. The girls had their first solo visit the other day with Sh … their father. It was difficult.” Then a thought strikes me. “Oh, God, I didn’t even say congratulations. The series. It must have been amazing.”

  The Pistons, my husband’s former team before they voided his contract and sent him packing over the charges, won the World Series. I’m both secretly elated that he’s not on the winning roster and won’t be getting a ring, but also terrified. It could make his revenge, both in and out of the courtroom, that much more swift. He’ll blame me as the reason he didn’t receive another championship.

  “It was something, all right. A happy victory, but tainted. If I’m being honest, I’ve just been thinking about you, Hannah.” The way he says my name does something funny to my insides.

  I don’t know to say, but it’s okay because Walker continues. “I can’t believe that judge didn’t grant the restraining order to all of you. It boils my blood that those little girls have to be around that monster. What he did to you? I see it in my mind every night. I just want to make sure you’re okay. If there is anything I can do, for you or the girls. Or with a lawyer. Testifying, helping, I want to be here for you.”

  God, I don’t deserve the kindness of this man. I put myself in this situation, kept my girls in it while I suffered and they suffered tangentially.

  “Thank you, it does mean something to have you in our corner. I’m sure there are a lot of your teammates who do not feel the same. But, I’m okay. I think. I’ve been meeting with a decent lawyer, it’s just that …”

  I’m so embarrassed to talk about my financial situation that my cheeks must turn a bright shade of scarlet.

  “Is he helping you with the girls? Monetarily, I mean. Don’t tell me he froze your accounts.” Walker’s eyes look deadly, like he might pounce on Shane if I answer in any way other than yes, my husband has still been supporting us.

  All I can manage to do is shake my head, because my tongue is too twisted with guilt about my lack of contributions to the family bank accounts.

  Walker shoots his gaze to the quickly darkening night sky, blowing out a breath. “That motherfucker, I should have known. He does this to you and then takes everything away. What a piece of … what can I do? I’ll call the lawyers I know, put down the entire fee. We’ll fight him, Hannah, tooth and nail. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. I—”

  “Walker, you can’t fix this for me.” My voice is so small, because I’m humbled and saddened at the same time. “Part of the reason I’m here is because I let a man provide my entire life. He controlled everything, from the purse strings to the way I prepared dinner. I’m hurting, there is no doubt about that. But I can’t go from one man, or even person, to the next in terms of people helping me solve my problems. I have to stand on my own two feet.”

  It feels vindicating to say that, even if I can’t yet see the light at the end of my tunnel. And even if my parents were helping to shell out for the lawyer, who is nowhere near as top-notch as Shane’s team of lawyers. That still burns, that I had to involve my parents in this. But I’d much rather lean on family than another male to rescue me.

  “You’re the strongest person I know. Truly. But the divorce settlement, it’ll allow you to gain access to some of that? You’re not a gold digger, Hannah. You were the man’s wife for years, before he was ever successful. And the girls, they deserve that, too. The courts will make it right. Right?”

  Now it’s my turn for a guilty hand rubbing the back of my neck. “Well, that would mean I’d have to have filed for divorce already.”

  Walker’s gaze shoots straight through to my soul, his voice deadpan. “You haven’t filed for divorce?”

  The two of us stand in silence for a moment, staring at each other, and then I shrug. “It’s complicated.”

  I see it all pass over his face. Confusion. Disgust. Disappointment. Something that looks close to hope all but caving in. I wonder, for the split second that I allow myself to imagine, just what he came over here to accomplish. Was there something else he came here for?

  “I see. In that case, I should get going. I just … I’m glad I could see for myself that you’re okay.” His expression was unreadable as he turned and walked back to his parking spot in the small lot facing the row of condo homes at my back.

  It’s strange that the organ in my chest twists a little as he goes, watching him leave creates a sense of longing deep in the pit of my stomach. The way he shut down just before he retreated tells me that Walker clearly could not understand just how complicated this all is for me. I couldn’t even get out a goodbye, I was so blindsided by the entire encounter.

  But as I watch him drive off, his eyes averted as he pulls out and speeds off, I put myself in his shoes. He picked me up off the pavement, a bleeding, crying mess, and stayed with me through it all as doctor’s stitched up my head and police officers came to take pictures of my wounds. He probably thinks I’m a weak idiot for not immediately trying to end my marriage. For not severing every tie with Shane the moment I could see straight after the concussion my husband had given me.

  I suppose, applying that logic, I look like I am seven shades of stupid.

  The girls and Dahlia are inside, probably waiting to hear what kept me on the front steps for so long. Even with that in mind, I lower myself to the top of the stoop, sitting with my elbows on my knees. I need a moment, just one, where I can pull off the mask I’ve had to don since the final assault happened.

  I’ve been putting on an act for years, wearing the disguise of a perfect mother and happy wife. Even now, I have to keep it from slipping, because my girls are too young to know the ugliness their parent is facing.

  And for just another moment, I let myself wish that I could take Walker Callahan up on his offer. That he could fix this for me. That he could hold me through it all.

  The way I feel about Walker is confusing. For starters, I’m married. I would never be the kind of person to even look at another man while I am still Shane’s wife, and I never did. Even in the worst of times, I wouldn’t have cheated. So the fact that I’m still legally bound to him? It makes having feelings for someone else stir up so much uncalled for guilt, shame, and perplexity.

  I should have no qualms about being attracted to another man, about wondering what it would be like to be with him … intimately. Especially one as wonderful as Walker Callahan. Especially with the way my husband has treated me for the past five years. But I do. I’m a nervous wreck about even remotely feeling a tiny surge of butterflies for the golden boy of the Pistons.

  For so many reasons, too. Because I am married. Because I’m currently on the precipice of fighting the hardest battle of my life. Because the last man I gave my heart and soul to crushed them into unrepairable pieces. Because Walker has been nothing but an amazing friend to me, and he doesn’t need to be swept up into my mess. Because even though he came here tonight, there is no way he feels the same in the slightest; there have got to be women lining up around the block to date him.

  And mostly, if I’m not lying to myself, because if I did give in to this spark, at a time like this, I might truly lose myself forever.

  6

  Walker

  “No, that’s fine, come on in. I wasn’t doing anything anyway.”

  I can feel Colleen rolling her eyes at me as I walk into her kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

  “I should have called, I know.” I sigh, grabbing a beer, twisting off the cap and taking a long pull.

  “We could have been naked,” Hayes says from the couch, throwing up a hand in greeting.

  That makes me cringe. “Jesus, I do not need that mental image.”

  Col
leen shoots her boyfriend a stare that says, that was inappropriate. “You know you’re always welcome. Hell, you had the garage code before that guy did.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder. “But it’s kind of late. What happened?”

  Since we were kids, Colleen and I have always been each other’s confidants. Even more than my brother, Sinclair, she’s the blood relative I am closest to. I’ve had keys to her place and her garage code forever, as she does mine, and we use them more often than not, bypassing the knock or the doorbell. I know I should probably cool it with walking in unannounced now that she is in a full-fledged relationship, but I am all out of sorts tonight.

  Grabbing another beer, because I know I’ll need one shortly, I toe out of my shoes as I walk into the living room and join them. My cousin and teammate are curled up on one end of the overstuffed beige sectional Colleen bought three years ago. I know because I went to help her test them out. Right now, she and Hayes look like the picture of perfection in comfortable sweats, both nursing glasses of wine, with Colleen’s fireplace roaring on the far wall. There is some irrelevant hockey game playing on TV, and I know for a fact both of these people would pick sports over shows or movies any day.

  Taking another gulp, I dive headfirst. “I went to see Hannah just now.”

  Colleen sits straight up, Hayes’ arms falling abruptly to his sides and an annoyed huff coming out of him. My cousin just looks pissed.

  “You what! How did you find her?”

  “I may or may not have snuck into your office. You need to keep things locked up tighter, Col,” I admonish her.

  “Walker, I can’t believe you! That’s a complete invasion of privacy, hers and mine. And that’s saying a lot for a woman who is trying her best to stay hidden for her own safety.” An angry blush starts to make its way up Colleen’s neck.

  Hayes rubs her back, choosing to say silent, but his eyes are shooting daggers at me. Not only have I gone back on my word not to search for Hannah, but now I’ve ruined his relaxing night in.

  “I know, I know. Believe me, I feel guilty as fuck if it makes a difference. But I had to, Col. I needed to see her.” My voice almost breaks as I say this.

  She must sense the desperation in my tone, because she lowers back down to lie in the crook of Hayes’ arm. “I’m seriously pissed at you. But if it made you feel better, then I’m glad you saw her.”

  “That’s the thing, it didn’t make me feel better. Not remotely better.” I shake my head, my gaze wandering out the big bay window of Colleen’s living room.

  Hayes turns the volume down on the TV and takes a sip of wine before addressing me. “I told you it might backfire. She’s in a fragile way, man. What did she say?”

  They both look at me expectantly as I polish off my first beer and pop open the second. “At first, it seemed like she was relieved to see me. Or maybe relieved that I wasn’t someone else. But the conversation just went downhill from there. She’s confused, skittish, doesn’t really seem to have a plan or any way to put it in motion. Shane has cut her off, the bastard, and I have a feeling she’s struggling. But she wants no help. And … she hasn’t filed for divorce. The way she said it, well, it sounds like she might not even file. What the fuck is that about?”

  My mind drifts back to the inches of space between us, the way she looked at me as she stepped out of the condo complex she’s staying in.

  Couldn’t she feel the way the ground shook, or the bolts of energy we stole from the power lines above our heads? When I’m near her, the entire axis on my world shifts, even more so now. Over the years, this crush I harbor, the feelings trapped inside my chest that I was never allowed to let out, they’ve grown to enormous heights. I’ve memorized the curve of her smile, the way her eyes twinkle when that fairy laugh would pop out of her mouth. Now, couple that with the fierce, lion-like need to protect her, and I am almost weak in the knees with the way I feel about Hannah.

  The two waves of need, both for her heart and to protect her, crash within me in tidal-like motions. How did she not see it? I guess I understand that she has no room for it, not with everything she has going on. And before … well, she was a married woman. One whose moral compass would never stray, I know that much.

  But standing on those front steps with her, just inches from being able to touch her hand, I have no clue how she couldn’t read every emotion in me.

  I was going to tell her, I was going to let it all slip out tonight. My speech, rehearsed several times on the drive over, was going to include how I didn’t want anything from her, not even words. If she couldn’t entertain the thought of something more with me, then I would understand. But I needed her to know. I needed to, just one time, give voice to the feelings that have lived inside me for so long.

  But then she said there was no divorce filing. And my dreams, along with everything else I was trying to offer her, were crushed.

  “Wait a minute, she didn’t try to leave that asshole the minute she got out of the hospital?” Hayes looks thoroughly confused.

  I shake my head. “Nope. She told me that it’s complicated. What is complicated about the man you’re supposed to trust most injuring you so badly that he puts you in the hospital?”

  The whole thing blows my mind.

  “That’s fucking insane.” Hayes rubs his jaw.

  Colleen is quiet for a moment, and then I see sympathy swamp her eyes.

  “If I put myself in her shoes, and even though we’re not married and don’t have children, if Hayes did something like that to me—”

  My teammate, or former now I guess since he retired after the Series, sits up so abruptly, fury flaming in his eyes. “I would never lay a finger on you. Not like that. Thinking about it makes me sick.”

  She pets his arm, trying to calm him, a peaceful look in her eyes. He seems to relax as an unspoken look of love passes between them and scoops her back against him on the couch.

  Colleen turns back to me. “I’m just speaking hypothetically. But even without a marriage and all of those things that come with it … I could see how someone stays. I love Hayes very much, and the first time would be just that. The first time. I could see falling into that trap, that he was sorry, that he loves me so dearly he just became enraged in a heated moment. Add a wedding to that, add children, a house, all of these things that tie your lives together … it’s not an easy disentanglement. I hate that women like Hannah feel they have no other option but to stay, but I can’t say I don’t understand it. That’s the man she chose to spend her life with. It’s not an easy thing to cut such a huge part of yourself out. I imagine it’s like going into a surgery, knowing your odds are fifty-fifty or worse. You don’t know how any of it is going to work out.”

  The logic seeps into my brain, but doesn’t penetrate it. It can’t because I will never accept that. He hurt Hannah in the most gruesome way a wife, or maybe even a person, could be hurt. And I was here, offering to be her soft landing. All she had to do was take it.

  I’m about to argue with my cousin, when the TV grabs all of our attention. A picture of Shane Giraldi flashes across it with some breaking news banner. The anchor, a woman I recognize from the thousands of other times I’ve watched this sports channel broadcast, begins to talk.

  “We have some crucial updates in the Shane Giraldi domestic violence case. As the charges are still pending and he’s awaiting trial, the two-time World Series champion issued a statement today.”

  A block of text attributed to Shane pops up on the screen, and my eyes read it at hyper-speed.

  This is a private matter between my family and me. That being said, what transpired on the night in question was a gross misunderstanding, and I am both apologizing to my wife and my daughters for the strife this is putting them through. I love my wife very much; she has stood by me throughout my entire career. I hope we can settle this matter between ourselves and that the public will give us time to heal as a family. I hope my baseball family can understand this matter, and the league reconsiders
their decision on my suspension. I love this sport and its fans, and miss them greatly.

  -Shane Giraldi

  We all watch in jaw-dropping disbelief as the anchor details the events of the last month, in all the gory detail the three of us remember vividly.

  “At this time, Hannah Giraldi has not publicly come out in support of her husband. She has remained largely unseen, as is not the case many times with these kinds of cases. Jim, talk about Mrs. Giraldi’s actions and what her not acting as the quote, unquote good wife can speak to regarding the allegations,” the original anchor says.

  Another talking head comes on, some sports slash legal analyst, and begins talking out of his ass, because he clearly has no inside view of the situation.

  “Why the hell is he putting out statements right now? His public relations person must be really bottom of the barrel. His agent and his original PR rep fired him. Plus, that statement is garbage. It’s all about him!” Colleen is raging at the television.

  “I hated that guy from the first day in the locker room. What a piece of shit,” Hayes mumbles.

  I, on the other hand, am grinding down on my molars that I’m afraid one of them has already cracked. Shane is lower than scum, he’s the kind of evil you never want to encounter. Not only is he denying anything ever happened, when I saw with my own two eyes him using his fists on his own wife, but he’s trying to communicate with her through the media. He’s using his star status as a work-around to the order of protection Hannah had sought and won. This is the kind of manipulative shit only sociopaths or psychopaths resort to.

  And the fact that Hannah couldn’t outright tell me if she planned on leaving him, even if she thought I wasn’t privy to that information, means that something like this bullshit apology could totally reel her back in.

  I drain the second beer in one fell swoop and head to the fridge for another. There’s nothing to do now but get good and sloppily drunk, maybe crash in Colleen’s guest room.