Playing Catch: A Baseball Romance Read online

  It was time for some answers. Kirk wiped up the milk he’d splattered on the table and called his mother.

  His mother surprisingly answered. Maybe the fact that he hadn’t done her bidding to give the messages to Jeanine made her decide to talk to him.

  “Darling, how wonderful to hear from you,” she crooned in her high society accent. “Matt tells me you’re burning up the ballpark. He thinks you’ll get the starting job.”

  “This isn’t a social conversation,” Kirk said through his irritated throat. “I need answers. Who wrote those love letters to Jeanine and why are you sending them to me?”

  “Oh, that,” She yawned audibly. “I’m helping out a friend. She claims to have known this Miss Jewell growing up, and she asked me to track her down.”

  “Why you? Why didn’t she mail them herself or pay her a visit?” Kirk wouldn’t put it past his mother to lie for the sheer joy of ruining people’s lives. His mother thrived on drama and trouble. If she had her way, she’d be the star of her very own soap opera. God knew she tried hard enough.

  “Oh, Kirk, darling. You know I can’t spill something told to me in confidence.”

  “Never stopped you before.” He grunted at the obvious hypocrisy. “I’m mailing the letters back. If they’re so important to this old friend of yours, she should contact Jeanine directly.”

  “Oh, you’re such a difficult boy. Why can’t you be more like Matt? Except he’s gay. I’ll hand it to you for being straight, but in every other way, Matt acts like a son and you don’t.”

  “Because I see through you.” Kirk gritted his teeth, feeling the pain for his brother who sought to gain his mother’s approval by sucking up to her. “The letters are going back. Don’t involve me with your dirty deeds.”

  “Dirty deeds?” His mother huffed as if she spewed out cigarette smoke from every orifice of her body. “I’ll tell you who’s dirty. The woman you took off with to Vegas to get into her pants. I hope you took precautions and didn’t catch your death in sex diseases.”

  “I didn’t sleep with her, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Then what were you doing? Keeping track of her for a buddy? Because if you are, we might be working on the same side. Why don’t you let me in on what you’re up to so we don’t get our wires crossed.”

  “Sorry, I’m not on your team.” Kirk ended the call and fought the urge to throw his phone across the room.

  His mother was up to no good.

  * * *

  Jeanine stepped onto the mat at the Black Tiger dojo and faced Skye, her training partner, for a bout of judo wrestling. The two women bowed respectfully and as soon as Master Tao dropped his hand, they sprang at each other, grabbing fistfuls of heavy cotton.

  Skye attempted a hip roll, and Jeanine stepped out of it. She pulled at Skye and turned, trying to throw her onto the mat as the other woman squirmed and strained. She got one leg between Jeanine’s, but Jeanine turned her around while holding onto her uniform. Skye held her ground and pushed, tripping Jeanine.

  Jeanine held on tight and brought Skye down on top of her. She shoved hard and hooked her leg before the other woman could sit on her. Wiggling and grunting, the two grappled, twisting arms and legs around each other.

  Skye rolled Jeanine onto her back and trapped her with a knee on her belly. Panic gripped Jeanine’s throat, and she scrambled to displace her opponent. Grabbing the other woman’s waist, Jeanine held on tight while her legs flailed, trying to gain leverage.

  Sweat pinpricked her face, and her heart knocked against her throat. She hated being pinned. Hated being underneath her opponent. Hated being helpless.

  Skye wrestled and locked her tight with a smothering embrace, waiting for Jeanine to tap the mat. Pain shot through her joints, and she strained to breathe, her chest crushed and the other woman’s arm in a chokehold around her neck.

  Jeanine would not give up. Would not cry out. Would not tap the mat.

  “That’s enough,” Master Tao said, after several excruciating seconds had passed.

  Immediately, Skye let her loose and jumped to her feet, extending a helping hand.

  “You okay?” she asked Jeanine.

  Pressure built inside Jeanine’s head, and her pulse thudded like an overweight freight train. She hated that question. Are you okay? Are you okay?

  Of course, I’m not okay. I’ve never been okay. I’m out of this fucking hell not okay. Never in my life have I been okay. So don’t fucking ask me if I’m okay. I. Will. Never. Be. Okay.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Jeanine said. She took her training partner’s strong grip and clambered to her feet. “Ready to do this again.”

  And so it went. No matter how much stronger Skye was, or how many times she threw Jeanine, locked her, pinned her, twisted her arm, choked and crushed her, Jeanine always bounced back and said she was okay.

  After the workout, Jeanine’s entire body was sore and stretched, twisted as if she were a living pretzel. Sweat burned through the pores of her skin and her joints ached.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Skye asked, as they walked to the parking area. “Was I too hard on you?”

  “No, never.” Jeanine gave her training partner a light shove. “But I’ll get you back in sparring. I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Heard you had a run in with a man, kicked him in the head,” Skye said. “Master Tao mentioned it in the self-defense class I was assisting in.”

  “Yep, I thanked him for the training. Came in handy.” Jeanine fished her car keys from her purse.

  “Why do you get yourself in such situations?” Skye leveled a serious look at her. “I mean it. You’ve been lucky so far, but I don’t want you to turn into another statistic.”

  “I can handle it.” Jeanine unlocked her car.

  “Sure you can. What if he held you down? What if he threw you on your back and jumped on top of you? Then what?”

  “I won’t let that happen. No one holds me down.” Jeanine swiped the back of her hand over her sweaty face. “I will never ever let anyone crush me.”

  “That’s what you say, but not what you do.” Skye pressed her hand over Jeanine’s shoulder.

  Jeanine shot her training partner a narrowed glare. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re freezing up as soon as your back hits the ground, and that’s when I get the advantage on you. Happens every time. It’s in your head, Jeanine. You’re scared and you’re trying so damn hard to talk yourself out of it. Being brave. Saying you’re okay. Always fine. Doing great. And then taking all those risks. What are you trying to prove?”

  Jeanine threw Skye’s hand from her shoulder and stepped into her car. “I am doing great, and it’s none of your business how many men I sleep with. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Skye’s lips pressed into a line. “You’ve always been taking care of yourself. Maybe you should let someone else care about you for a change. You look like you need a friend.”

  “I’m fine, really. I appreciate the concern,” Jeanine said. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Sure.” Skye gave Jeanine a quick wave and backed away toward her car. “Let me know when you’re free. Maybe we can go shopping or hang out sometime.”

  “Maybe,” Jeanine said. She closed the car door and took deep breaths to calm herself down.

  Why did everyone think she had a problem? She loved sex. She loved her one-night stands, and she loved danger. She was not a victim. She was the master of her own fate.

  Yeah, right. Most days she couldn’t even fool herself. She was fucking pathetic. She couldn’t even let Kirk fuck her when she’d had the chance. She wasn’t even brave enough to be the whore she thought she was. She’d acted like a stupid victim. It was better to be a whore than a victim. Always better to have a choice, and whores had choices.

  “What’s wrong with me?” She rested her head on the steering wheel and thought about the man who’d taught her how to
be a whore.

  “What’s a whore?” Her four-year-old self asked him. “Does a whore wet her panties all the time?”

  He laughed at her while flinging her panties into the washing machine. “Yes, a whore wets her panties and gets a spanking.”

  “I’m sorry.” She rubbed her eyes, biting her lips. “I don’t want to get spanked.”

  “What do you call me?” His voice grew rough and he turned her around.

  “Papa. Please don’t spank me.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll be a good girl. I won’t be a whore anymore.”

  “Oh, you’ll be a good girl all right.” He grabbed her by the arm, hoisting her tiny body into the air and whacked her so hard she swung, dangling like that hangman in the children’s word game. “But you’ll always be a whore. All the pretty girls are whores, and you’re the prettiest of them all.”

  Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the prettiest of them all? Jeanine. She’s the prettiest whore in your kingdom, and you must get rid of her. Toss her out before it’s too late.

  Whack. Whack. Whack.

  “Please, Papa, I love you. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you.”

  Tears rolled down Jeanine’s face, mingling with cold sweat. She wasn’t four anymore, and no one was going to make her say she loved him. No more.

  Except she had loved them, every one of her foster fathers. She’d run to them and cling to them, and had been the good little girl, wearing her pretty dresses and holding their hands. She’d kiss them for pictures and smile and tell everyone how happy she was that she had a father—that she wanted to stay.

  Only she’d been moved from home to home to home, because the mothers hated her. Just like her own mother who’d left her at two months old.

  “Damn. I’m so fucked.” Jeanine fished her cell phone from her purse. The urge to call Kirk bowled her over, and she shuddered, cold to the bone. He’d seen through her and had caught a glimpse of her secret. He’d suspected based on her out of control behavior, and now, he was giving her space, friend-zoning himself. There were no text messages from him. No missed calls. Nothing, except the comforting thought that he knew where she was through the tracking app. He cared enough to let her spend the night at his place when she was scared, but this morning, she got the distinct impression he’d regretted it. She’d played the tease on him, had him get her off, and hadn’t returned the favor—all because she couldn’t talk herself into mindlessly fucking anyone anymore.

  But … that was Kirk. Not anyone. Kirk was the one she liked—the guy who cared.

  Not anymore. Not after I left his balls blue.

  Maybe she needed a little help. If she could get past her issues, she could allow Kirk to make love to her.

  Make love? Where had that come from?

  Jeanine tapped through her phone and brought up the contact for Dr. Leslie Sparks, Psychotherapist, specializing in Anger Management, Domestic Violence, and Sexual Addictions.

  Her finger shook as she keyed in Dr. Sparks’ number. It was late in the evening. No one would be at the office. She could leave a message—for Tina’s sake. After all, Dr. Sparks helped victims of domestic abuse and Tina showed all the signs and symptoms. Denial, evasion, escape, followed by excuses for the perpetrator.

  “Hello, this is Dr. Sparks,” a female voice answered the phone.

  Jeanine’s breath caught in her throat. What could she say to the doctor? She’d know Jeanine was lying. That was how shrinks were. Nothing got past them.

  “Is anyone there?” The doctor’s voice was mellow and pleasant.

  “Yes …” Jeanine croaked. “I’m calling for a friend. She needs help.”

  “I can definitely help. What does your friend need?”

  “I suspect she’s being abused. She moved in with me and said her boyfriend kicked her out because she lost her job. I think she’s scared of him.”

  “Did she tell you she’s afraid of him?” Dr. Sparks asked.

  “No, not in so many words, but she went back to him already. I thought I should help her.”

  “That’s awfully good of you,” the doctor reassured. “Is she in any immediate danger?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Jeanine answered quickly. “She’s fine. Everything’s fine, so far.”

  “But you’re worried about her, is that right?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m afraid she’s in denial. She doesn’t want to see a problem.”

  “Most of us don’t, or at least we cover up for those around us. It’s a survival mechanism, because we don’t want to expose our weaknesses.”

  “That’s true. I think she was abused growing up, but I can never get her to talk about it.”

  “It might be better for her to talk to me, but you can’t set up an appointment for her. She has to be willing to take the first step.”

  “She doesn’t want to.”

  “Then, there’s nothing we can do for her, unless she’s in imminent danger,” Dr. Sparks said.

  Nothing we can do for her, Jeanine repeated in her mind. Did this apply to her too? Was this why Kirk had backed off? There was nothing he could do for her. Not that he didn’t want to help.

  Jeanine swallowed sour bile and took a deep breath. “Dr. Sparks? Maybe there’s something you can do for me. I’ve been told I’m a sex addict. I do a lot of one-night stands, but lately I met a man and I want to change.”

  “I’ll be glad to help you. Let’s set up an appointment. I’m glad you’re taking the first step.”

  “I’m not even sure what’s wrong with me. I just know I need to change. I want to be normal, and I don’t think my sexual response is normal.”

  “At least you’re self-aware enough to see the problem,” the doctor said. “Half the battle is won already.”

  “I hope so. I really, really hope so.” Saying those words lit a tiny flame in Jeanine’s heart. Maybe she still had a chance. Maybe George Simpson hadn’t stolen her childhood and all her dreams. Maybe someone would love a pathetic creature like her. Maybe she could finally stop pretending everything was okay. Maybe she could live again. Maybe she would love again, this time, with someone her own age.

  With someone who wasn’t fucking abusing her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kirk didn’t think he was qualified to be a sex addict any longer. The night before, he hadn’t been interested in the hot party women he’d met, and several times, he’d driven by Jeanine’s apartment, fighting the urge to knock on her door and check up on her.

  He hadn’t called or texted her. That was to his credit, but there wasn’t a minute that went by that he didn’t want to see her. The night she’d spent at his place had been too short, and he should have tried to keep her. But wouldn’t that make him a wuss? A chump to be cheated on?

  For all he knew, she’d recovered from her sex freeze and had been out on a booty call. Not that he was tracking or anything. He was only driving by in case the stalker was in the vicinity.

  Kirk had a game later in the afternoon, but he’d taken a break for an appointment with Dr. Sparks. Since he didn’t stop at Jeanine’s, he continued straight to the doctor’s office and arrived a few minutes early.

  “Dr. Sparks will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said to Kirk and handed him a clipboard. “Please fill out this questionnaire so the doctor can be aware of your concerns.”

  “Sure, thanks.” He checked his watch. He didn’t have much time before he had to be at the clubhouse. The guys were already ragging him about coming in late and leaving early, but this was important.

  Clutching the packet of letters, he took a seat and glanced at the books on the doctor’s bookshelf and the diplomas on her wall. Not only was she a specialist on sexual addictions, she also dealt with anger management and domestic abuse. He took his time answering the detailed questions that probed his sex life and his feelings about his activities. Maybe Jeanine could benefit from some counseling. She definitely had issues dealing with sex, and judging from what he’d read, it was like
ly she’d been abused, although she’d never admit to it.

  A few minutes later, the receptionist called for Kirk to enter the doctor’s office.

  “How nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy,” Dr. Sparks said, shaking his hand. She took the questionnaire Kirk had filled out and sat behind her desk. “I understand you wanted to see me about your sexual addiction?”

  “Actually, I have a question about a friend. She’s having trouble with impulse control, and I suspect she’s been abused as a child.”

  The doctor frowned, drawing down her eyebrows. “I’m afraid I can’t talk to you about your friend. But please, tell me about yourself. I understand how people are reluctant to open up about such an intimate topic and oftentimes use a ‘friend’ as a prop to start the conversation.”

  “Sure, I get it.” Kirk wiped his hand over his forehead. “So, let’s talk about me. I have a very awkward relationship with my mother.”

  He went on to inform the doctor how he’d caught his mother having sex with a lot of men and wondering if that was the reason he was unable to settle down, to commit to one woman.

  The doctor nodded, agreeing. “I think you’re figuring out some of the reasons you react the way you do. The sexual addiction is definitely a symptom of unmet needs. Maybe you’re looking to get back at your mother every time you ‘catch and release’ as you indicated. Rejecting someone before they reject you.”

  “I believe you’re right. I used to think it was a good thing I never got involved. I had freedom from nagging, no one to answer to, and definitely no diaper changing and late night feedings.” He chuckled to lighten the conversation. “Except I met a writer who pointed out that I also didn’t get to cuddle the same woman, night after night, and that no one really cared about me.”

  “I’m guessing you met someone you’d like to know better,” the doctor said, making a note. “And she’s important enough for you to want to change.”

  “Yes, she is, except she’s got a big problem. She’s just like me, unable to get attached to anyone, and I suspect she’s been abused.”