***
The sun beat in through my window, blasting into my eyes as they started to open. I gripped my phone, checked the time, and then jumped out of bed in a panic. Fuck, it was already seven-thirty. I only had thirty minutes to get to the stadium.
I threw on clothes, grabbed my phone and keys, and ran out the door. The doorman greeted me, “You feeling better, sir?” I didn’t have time for his inquiries into my personal life. I simply gave him a wave and kept on running.
The stadium parking lot was empty. No practice, too early for games. It felt eerie walking the long halls in the underbelly of the stadium. As I neared the coach’s office, I heard voices coming from inside, echoing down the long, narrow corridors.
“Come in. Sit down,” Coach said sternly as I appeared in the doorway.
The GM was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, his lips pursed tightly together. This isn’t good.
“Todd, as you know we’ve had this discussion time and time again,” the coach started his speech, his brow furrowed with consternation.
“I apologize, Coach. As I said, I had no idea that would happen.”
His lips curled into a smile. His eyes brightened, and a chuckle escaped his throat. I felt at ease for a moment, but only a brief one as his expression quickly turned to a frown.
“Todd, we just don’t feel that you’re the right fit for this team anymore. You have no regard for our rules, which is leading other players to behave the same way.” The GM spoke without emotion.
Wow!
“You’re throwing me out?” I asked, surprised my mouth was able to say the words.
“Not throwing you out. But, we’ve determined it best for the team, for our image, that you be with a team more suited to your, well, your nature.” I leaned against my seat, pushing my back hard against the leather material at the GM’s words.
The last couple seasons were rough, but this was uncalled for in my mind. So I had a few incidents in the past, but it wasn’t like I was the only one. Several of my teammates had been caught riding motorcycles; one was involved in a high-speed police chase that resulted in a crash, and hell, our first baseman was busted for playing hockey during the off-season.
“I know what you’re thinking, Todd.” My coach acted as if he had any idea of what was going on in my head.
“We’ve had a shaky history with the team getting out of control. But we feel that everyone is onboard for a new season, a new image. We thought you were as well. Until this.” I wanted to smack the GM hard enough to make him eat his words.
“I don’t see the big deal. If I’d been in a car, not on a motorcycle, my injuries would be the same,” I snapped at them both.
“And jumping out of an airplane?” Coach glared at me with beady eyes.
“It’s as safe as riding in one.”
“This isn’t your first incident, Todd. As much as we value you as a player on the field, we just don’t feel you carry the same values off the field we require for this team,” Coach said softly. “Rules are in place for a reason.”
The GM crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Coach shook his head, and his eyes dropped to his hands that were clenched together on his desk. It was obvious they’d already made up their minds. It was useless to argue. The Mets had a new look, a new image, and Todd Morris no longer fit in.
“I’ve been traded?”
I couldn’t imagine leaving New York. I loved it here. I loved the people, the neighborhood, the stadium, my team. I wanted to plead with them to let me stay, but it was evident their mind had been made.
That’s that. I’m no longer a New York Met.
“We felt it best to have you here with none of the other players around. You can clean out your locker without anyone looking over your shoulder,” the coach said generously.
I scooted the chair back with a loud screech I didn’t mean to create against the floor. I stood, extended my hand to the coach and then the GM. To leave with my pride if nothing else.
“Where will I be going?” I asked, fearing the worst.
Philadelphia. Cincinnati. Milwaukee. All of those were names I hoped not to hear.
“Rhett.” Coach stood, looking toward his door.
I turned. Rhett Hamilton stood in the doorway. He extended his hand to the coach, and then to the GM before focusing his attention on me.
“Welcome to the Beasts,” he said with a wild grin and extended his hand to mine.
As if on autopilot, I reached out to shake it, feeling as though my coach just made a deal with the devil.
A Beast?
Me?
Hell the fuck no!
CHAPTER TWO
Katrina
“Did you need me to take you somewhere else?” Larry, my Uber driver, was sweet but growing impatient with me.
“No, thank you,” I said quickly, pushing a twenty to the front seat.
I’d sat in the backseat of his Kia Forte for almost five full minutes in the wide, circular driveway. I wasn’t ready to go inside, to face the reality of my life. But Larry wasn’t going to let me sit here forever. I’m sure he had plenty of other poor carless saps to rescue today.
It felt surreal standing at the front door of the large mansion where I grew up. My stomach twisted in knots as I turned the door handle to let myself inside. Geoffrey always greeted me before, but he was gone, along with the rest of the staff. As the metal touched the palm of my hand, I realized that it was probably the first time I’d ever done something as simple as let myself inside my own childhood home.
“Oh, Katrina!” My mother rushed toward me, her long blonde hair pulled into a loose bun, her eyes red from what I assumed were tears.
My body melted into hers. She smelled of vanilla and lavender, and even though her life was crumbling beneath her, she still managed to soothe me.
“Hey, Kitty-Kat, you get the car dropped off okay?”
I opened my eyes and stared at my smiling father, careful to not cringe at my childhood nickname. He looked too chipper for the situation. Delusional. His hand rested on his hip as he leaned against the rounded door frame leading to the dining area. The large room I stood in made me feel small, made him look small. Bobby “Spaceman” Delaney, baseball legend. That was my dad.
“Yes,” I responded, but without showing the true emotion I felt.
“Good girl.” His grin widened as my confusion grew. How could he be so calm? Hell, so cheerful?
“I’ll get you a new car. A better one. Just wait and see, Kit-Kat,” he said with bright eyes and a tone that felt manic on my ears.