The Closer You Come (The Original Heartbreakers, #1)(30)

“Good going, Ryan,” Beck called.

If anyone would understand his issues about childhood abandonment, it was Beck. The guy’s mom had taken off soon after his birth, and the father he’d rarely ever seen had left him with one aunt after another before signing away his parental rights and moving out of state without even saying goodbye.

How could parents be so uncaring? How could people be so cruel?

Like I have the right to judge anyone.

A sudden prickling at the back of his neck had his gaze darting here and there. Some part of him must have sensed danger his eyes hadn’t yet found. A handful of parents loitered nearby... A man a little younger than him leaned against a car parked at the curb, shading his eyes with his hands as he watched the field... A snow-cone stand had a line of kids from other teams. No one watched him. No one looked to be packing heat.

Jase forced himself to relax. He wasn’t in danger at a freaking Little League practice.

A whistle blew, and Strikers scattered across the field, returning to their parents. West and Beck began picking up cones and balls. Jase rolled his shoulders in an effort to loosen the knots forming there before standing and jogging to the field to help.

He reached Beck, and they bumped fists.

“How’d the meeting go?” Beck asked, stuffing the cones in a bag.

“Better than expected. I’ve been upgraded to unsupervised.”

“Dude,” his friend said, sounding like anything but a millionaire businessman.

“I know.”

They shared a quick grin.

West dumped a basket of soccer balls into the bag. “I need a picture of the two of you in this moment. I’ll create a GIF and tag it with the phrase I Just Found Out I’m Awesome. You Might Want to Get Yourself Tested.”

“It’s funny because it’s true,” Beck said with a nod.

“My results would be negative.” Just like all the others, thank God. Jase had paid a visit to his doctor immediately after his release. He’d had a full workup done and received a clean bill of health. But months had since passed, and he’d been with multiple women. He’d used a condom with each of them, but maybe he should do another round of testing. Not because he had any interest in unprotected sex with anyone particular. Of course not. Never. Just for his own peace of mind.

“You guys ready?” West hefted the oversize bag behind his shoulder. “I’ve allotted myself two hours for lunch.”

“More than ready.” Beck kicked into gear. “I’m starved.”

West snorted. “You’re always starved.”

Deadpan, Beck said, “I also think I want to take two hours and eight minutes for lunch.”

West punched him in the shoulder. “Forget it.”

Jase drank in their easy camaraderie.

On the way to their cars, three moms blocked Beck’s retreat in an effort to “question” him about upcoming practices and games. Those need-answers-now questions sure were punctuated with a lot of giggling, but Beck responded as if the upcoming championship depended on the words that left his mouth. Somehow, despite his seriousness, he managed to flirt with each of them. But then, flirt was his default setting.

West glanced impatiently at the time on his phone. “Beck. Man. My two hours are already running down.”

“Pencil me in for another minute,” Beck said before returning to his convo with the women.

Jase didn’t stick around to hear the rest of the mating dance, but met the boys at their favorite dive. A hole-in-the-wall located in one of the rougher areas of Oklahoma City. Surrounded by government housing, with gang signs spray-painted on every wall and streets littered with potholes. His home turf.

They ate greasy burgers and heart-attack fries, and for a while, it was just like old times, when they had teased each other and laughed, nothing between them but a bond thicker than blood.

But the reprise didn’t last long. A clatter of breaking dishes sent Jase hopping to his feet, a butter knife clutched in his white-knuckled grip.

Horrific memories flashed through his mind. Memories that had been seared in his brain, a disease without a cure. Darkness he couldn’t shake. Inmates surrounding him, forming a wall so the guards couldn’t see what was happening. A cold shiv pressing into the back of his neck. His clothes...ripping...

He was already panting, gaze darting around the restaurant, searching for the threat.

“Everything’s fine.” West unfolded an inch at a time in an effort not to spook him and gently rubbed his nape. “You’re safe, man. You’re safe.”

Safe? Was he? The prickling at the back of his neck had returned.

When he realized people were staring at him with strange looks on their faces, he squared his shoulders and reclaimed his seat, setting down the knife. He pushed his food away, no longer in the mood to eat, and though his friends tried to return to their previous conversation, the laid-back solidarity of before was gone, the tension and guilt back.

West finally released a bitter laugh. “There’s no good time to bring this up, so I’m just going to do it now. As you probably know, the anniversary of Tessa getting her GED is coming up.”

And her death.

Beck tensed. “We’ve still got a few months to go.”

“Yes, but what I want to do takes time and planning.” West caught a bead of condensation trickling down his water glass. “I plan to throw her a party. The one she always wanted. The one I promised her but never gave her. I would have done it already, but...”