The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1)

The Perfect Game (The Perfect Game #1) Page 20

My mind couldn’t process what just occurred. I kept thinking, Did that just really happen? Did he just hit me? The words kept repeating over and over again in my mind.

“Where’s Dean?” I looked around anxiously, visions of his body crumpling to the ground replaying once again in my mind.

“I don’t know. Come on, we have to find Jack.”

“Where’s everyone else? Where were you?” I asked, my tone almost robotic as a metallic taste filled my mouth. I spit and blood spattered the pavement.

“I…I don’t know. Everyone scattered. It just happened so fast.” Cole winced as his eyes avoided mine.

He tossed his arm around my waist to help steady my incessant shaking. We were walking slower than Cole would have liked toward the campus entrance when I saw Jack. He ran full speed in our direction, his hat gripped tightly in his fist.

“Cassie!” Jack’s eyes grew wide when he recognized me. “Cassie!” he yelled, as he quickened his pace toward us.

I stopped moving, tears suddenly filling my eyes. I didn’t recognize it at first, the feeling that overwhelmed me at the sight of him. My entire body released the shock it held as I fell into his strong arms. For the first time since this whole mess began, my lungs filled themselves fully with cool evening air as I took a cleansing breath. I looked into his frantic brown eyes and finally relaxed.

I was safe now because Jack was here.

“What the fuck happened, Cole?” Jack shouted, his voice filled with rage.

“I…I don’t know, Jack. One minute everyone’s together, and the next some guy’s hitting Cassie and breaking a bottle over Dean’s head and saying he has a gun.” Cole’s voice shook as he summed up the events.

“He said he had a gun?” I asked, confused.

“He said he was packing. That’s when everyone ran away.”

Jack’s chest rose and fell rapidly against my body as his jaw tightened. “What did you just say?”

Jack eased me from him and began pacing, pulling at his hair with each step. He turned to me, his eyes filled with pain. “Kitten, where were you when they ran?” My eyes darted between Cole and Jack; I wasn’t sure how to respond. “You gotta tell me, Kitten, I’m going fucking crazy right now.”

I watched as Cole braced, clearly dreading Jack’s reaction. Jack reached for Cole’s shirt, gripping it tightly in his fist. He yanked until Cole stood an inch from his face. “Where the fuck was Cassie, Cole?”

“Jack, I’m sorry.” Cole winced, unwilling to put up a fight.

I watched as Jack’s other hand balled into a fist. “Jack!” I longed to stop this battle before it began. Jack turned to me, my eyes locking onto his. “He took my camera.”

I said the words out loud and allowed my tears to fall. This stranger had violated me. He ripped away a sense of security I never knew I had before suffering the loss of it. He struck my body violently and robbed parts of my innate trust in others. And he took the one material thing that I cared about the most and ripped it from my possession.

Jack’s anger dropped away for a moment, his eyebrows pinched together in pain. “I’ll get you a new one, Kitten. I promise.”

I shook my head. “I need my camera. Why’d he take it? Why’d he hit me so hard? And why so many times?” I fell to the curb, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Do you think we should call the cops? The campus police or something?” Cole suggested with a nervous shrug.

“That’s where Dean and Brett are now,” Jack snapped.

My eyes opened at the mention of his name. “Where is Dean? Is he okay? I saw him fall. He looked unconscious.”

Jack leaned next to me, his hand rubbing the length of my back. “Don’t worry. He’s fine.”

“How? His head was bleeding like crazy! And he couldn’t even stand!”

“Head wounds do that, Kitten. They bleed something fierce, but it had almost stopped by the time I saw him,” Jack told me, his voice calm.

“So he’s really okay?” I released a breath.

“He’s really okay.” His voice reassured me and he kissed the top of my head.

“Hey, Jack.” Cole took a step toward us before Jack cut him off with an angry slash of his hand.

“Stay the fuck away from me right now, Cole, or I’ll end up doing something I might regret.”

I looked into Cole’s worried eyes and flashed him a hollow look.

“I’m really sorry, Cassie.” Cole’s voice echoed softly.

“Shut. Up. Cole.” Jack’s tone was deadly, and I turned away.

Jack’s arms settled underneath my legs and around my waist as he lifted me into the air. “Let’s go home,” he whispered before kissing the side of my forehead.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled into his chest, the sound of his heart beating against my ears giving me reassurance. He carried me in his arms the entire way to my apartment, never once stopping to catch his breath and never slowing his pace.

Once inside, he placed me gently on my bed and kneeled beside it. “We need to get you cleaned up, Kitten. Your beautiful face is a mess.” He lightly brushed my hair back with his fingertips.

I hadn’t given any thought to how messed up my face might be. My jaw ached and my head throbbed, but other than that, nothing else really hurt. “I’m gonna get you some ice. I’ll be right back.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.

I heard his cell phone ring and his voice rose in anger at whoever was on the other end of that call. He reappeared at my side. “The police are coming here, Kitten. They need your statement right now so they can go look for this guy. And they need to take pictures of your injuries, so we can’t clean you up just yet. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’d rather get it over with anyway.” I smiled gamely and then winced. “Ouch. Shit, that hurts,” I admitted before placing my palm against my cheek.

“I’m sorry I left you alone tonight. I should have been with you.” His face twisted with anguish.

My heart ached for his self-inflicted guilt. “Jack, I should be able to walk through a neighborhood without getting beat up and robbed.”

“But if I hadn’t gone early. If I’d been there…” His head rested on my lap and he clasped his arms around my back.

“I’m glad you weren’t there,” I admitted.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I could never live with the guilt if you got hurt because of me.”

He grimaced at my admission. “Kitten, I’d break my fucking pitching arm if it meant keeping you safe.”

My heart jumped inside my chest. “You really shouldn’t say things you don’t mean.” I gave him a pained wink, reminding him about my list.

“I’m not,” he said confidently before a knock on the front door interrupted our exchange. “I’ll be right back. Sit tight.” He kissed my forehead and I watched him walk out of my room.

My phone beeped, alerting me to a text message. Melissa. Oh my God, are you okay? Dean just called me. I’m coming back.

Don’t come back. I’m fine. I’ll call you after I talk to the police, I responded, knowing she’d be sick with worry.

The police? What the hell? Call me as soon as you can. I’m freaking out!!!!!!!!

Her text made me laugh. I think it was all the exclamation points. Or the fact that I could hear her voice whenever I read her words. Either way, I typed out another response. Call you soon. Don’t freak. Jack’s here.

“Hey, Kitten?” Jack peered into my room, his hand gripping the edge of the door. “The police are here.”

I tossed my cell phone on the bed before pushing my body off. Two uniformed police officers were waiting for me when I walked into the living room. One held a notepad while the other gripped a camera that caught my gaze and reminded me of what I’d lost.

That asshole stole my camera.

I no longer own a camera.

I’m camera-less.

Tears started to roll down my cheeks as I blinked in vain to stop them. Jack rushed to my side and gathered me close, wiping them away tenderly with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t believe he stole my camera.” I closed my eyes tightly as the drops continued to fall, feeling like a hole was opening in the pit of my stomach.

“We really need to get your statement, miss,” one of the officers prompted.

I sniffed once and looked up, swiping at the moisture under my eyes. “Okay.”

“Your brother already told us what happened, but we’d like you to corroborate his story. He also said that more happened once he left the scene and we’ll need you to give us those details as well. Okay?” the officer asked, while reading from his notepad.

I looked at Jack with confusion before looking back at the officer. “My brother?”

“Yeah. Um, Dean Carter? He said he was Cassie Andrews’s brother,” the officer noted.

“How’s he doing? Is he okay?” My concern for Dean instigated a rush of questions.

“He doesn’t need stitches but has a nasty cut on his head, not to mention a raging headache. It probably wouldn’t hurt to have him seen by a doctor,” the other officer chimed in.

I looked at Jack and he waved his hand to calm me down. They read Dean’s statement out loud and I agreed with his account, noticing as Jack clenched his jaw. I reached down for his hand and squeezed it tightly in mine. I filled in the blanks from when Brett carried Dean away until I walked to Cole, watching again as Jack cringed and the veins in his neck bulged. Seeing him in pain caused an ache to form inside my chest. But I’ll admit I liked the fact that he was so pissed off about the whole thing. I’d never felt more safe or protected in my life.

The officers asked me simple questions that I had already answered and nothing stumped me until the last one. “Can you give us any idea of what the perp looks like? Would you be able to identify him in a lineup?”

My gaze flashed to Jack, and I shifted uneasily in my seat. “I could identify his shoes. And maybe his fist.”

“I’m sorry?”

“All I saw were his black and white shoes. And his knuckles. He was standing with the sun behind him and I never saw his face.” My body shook and Jack released my hand as he stood up and started to pace.

“Are we almost done?” Jack asked defensively.

“Almost.” The officer’s voice was a little terse before it softened when he turned to me. “I’m sorry, Cassie, but we have to take some pictures of your injuries.”

“That’s fine.” I sighed and then stood up to move in front of the white living room wall. The officer took pictures of my face at varying angles, while I kept my eyes locked on Jack’s, refusing to let go of the comfort he brought me.

When the police officers left, Jack walked me into the bathroom where I caught a glimpse of my reflection for the first time that evening.

“That’s so weird.” I leaned toward the mirror, touching the green and purple bruise on my brow before moving to the similar one forming on my forehead.