Do Not Fall For The Baseball Captains novel Chapter 85

The Car Crash

The Car Crash

Caleb’s POV

The front door hadn’t even latched behind me before the shouting started again from the study.

I stood in the entryway of my parents‘ house, the keys heavy in my hand, staring at the polished hardwood floor.

I had driven all the way back home for the weekend to celebrate my mother’s fifty- second birthday, hoping–maybe naively–for a couple of days of normal family dinner and a break from campus.

Instead, I walked straight into a war zone.

The air in the house was thick, sour with a tension that had been building up all week

My dad’s investment firm had taken a catastrophic hit a few days ago–some massive deal that went completely south, wiping out a staggering amount of the company’s capital.

He hadn’t slept in forty–eight hours, and it showed. The entire house was walking on eggshells, trying not to trigger the fuse.

By the time dinner was served, the dining room was heavy with the kind of silence that follows devastating news.

My dad sat at the head of the table, still in his wrinkled dress shirt, staring blankly at his plate while furiously typing away on his phone under the table.

My mom looked pale, her fingers twitching against her wine glass as she tried to force a pleasant conversation about the centerpiece flowers.

“So, Dad,” I started, clearing my throat to break the suffocating silence. I picked at my chicken, trying to sound casual.

“The coach called me into his office after practice on Thursday. He wants to move me up to the starting lineup for the next tournament. It’s a pretty big deal. A lot of scouts are going to be in the stands.”

My dad didn’t even look up from his screen.

“Baseball,” he muttered, his voice flat and laced with a biting, cold condescension.

“You’re still wasting your energy on a children’s game while the real world is collapsing around us.”

I set my fork down, a tight knot forming in my throat.

“It’s not a waste of energy. I’m on an athletic track, Dad. If I play well this season, I could actually get noticed by-”

1/5

The Car Crash

“Noticed by whom?” My dad finally snapped his head up, his eyes bloodshot and blazing with an unhinged, pent–up rage. He slammed his palm against the mahogany table, making the wine glasses rattle.

“A bunch of middle–aged men in baseball caps? You think a minor league contract is going to pay the mortgage on this house? You think a game is going to recover the millions of dollars that just dissolved because of market volatility?”

“Richard, please,” my mom pleaded softly, her voice trembling. “It’s my birthday. Cam we just have one dinner without-”

“No, Genevieve!” he roared, turning his frustration entirely on me.

“Look at you. Twenty–one years old, and you don’t have a single serious bone in your body. I’ve poured everything into giving you a legacy, and you’re content running around a muddy field. But I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew your life was going to tank the second you spent your entire childhood hanging around that useless, middle–class girl from next door.”

The room went dead silent. My hands clenched into tight fists beneath the table.

“Leave Victoria out of this,” I snapped, my voice dropping into a dark, warning tone.

“Why should I?” my dad sneered, leaning forward, his face twisted in disgust.

“That girl and her family are parasites. They’ve got no ambition, no status, nothing. She dragged you down to her level for fifteen years, teaching you to be complacent with mediocrity. If you had spent half as much time networking with people who actually matter instead of sneaking out to watch movies with a nobody, you might have actually developed some business sense.”

“I said, don’t talk about her that way!” I shouted, standing up so fast my chair screeched loudly against the floor.

“Victoria has more integrity in her pinky finger than you do in your entire failing firm! You don’t get to blame your terrible financial decisions on a girl who did nothing but support me when you were too busy working to care!”

“Caleb, sit down!” my brother, Dominic, barked from across the table.

Dominic always took Dad’s side. As the middle son, it was his favorite way of showing he was the responsible one.

Never mind that there were only two years gap between us–he still treated me like I needed his guidance on everything.

He’d already declared a double major in corporate finance, and right now he was staring at me from across the table with that smug look he got whenever he thought. he had the upper hand.

“Dad is right, you’re acting like a child. You’re throwing a tantrum over a neighborhood

25

The Car Crach

girl and a game while the family business is in crisis. Grow up.”

“Oh, look at the little company man stepping up,” I mocked, turning my fury onto my brother.

“Why don’t you go kiss his shoes a little more, Dominic? Maybe he’ll let you lose the next million.”

“At least I’m not a disappointment!” Dominic yelled, standing up to face me. “You’ve always been selfish, Caleb. You do whatever you want, play your little sports, and expect everyone else to carry the family name!”

Before I could think, I lunged across the corner of the table, grabbing Dominic by the collar of his polo shirt.

He reacted instantly, shoving his forearm hard against my chest.

We crashed backward into the sideboard, a decorative porcelain vase sliding off the edge and shattering into a hundred pieces on the hardwood floor.

“Stop it! Both of you, stop it right now!” my mom screamed, her voice breaking into frantic, desperate sobs as she rushed between us.

She pushed her hands against my chest, tears streaming down her face.

“Caleb, let go of your brother! Please! I can’t do this today. Not today.”

Looking down at my mother’s devastated, tear–soaked face on her own birthday, the anger in my chest suddenly turned into a sickening, hollow disgust.

I let go of Dominic’s collar, giving him one last, heated glare as he smoothed down his shirt, breathing heavily.

“I’m done,” I spat, turning on my heel.

“If you walk out that door, Caleb, don’t bother coming back for the rest of the semester!” my dad shouted after me, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.

I didn’t answer. I stormed out of the dining room, snatched my car keys from the entryway console, and ripped the front door open.

The cool night air hit my face as I marched down the driveway, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

I threw myself into the driver’s seat of my sedan, slammed the door shut, and cranked the engine.

The motor roared to life, and I shifted into reverse, spinning the tires as I backed out into the street and tore away from the cul–de–sac.

The headlights cut through the dark suburban roads as I accelerated, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

The speedometer needle climbed higher and higher, the engine whining in protest, but

315

Car Crash

i didn’t care.

I needed to get as far away from that house as possible.

As I hit the state highway for the long, hours–long drive back toward the university, the quiet of the car only made the shouting match repeat in my head.

A disappointment. A nobody.

These are words I have heard literally all my life. They were the background noise of my childhood, always there to remind me that no matter what I did, I was never going to be enough for him.

Without meaning to, my mind instantly drifted to Victoria. Whenever my world turned into a complete mess, she was always the one person who could anchor me.

She was the only one who actually listened without expecting me to be some perfect, corporate heir.

I needed to hear her voice. I needed her to tell me I wasn’t crazy. That I wasn’t alone.

I reached down with one hand, blindly fumbling for my phone in the center console.

My eyes flicked down to the glowing screen for a fraction of a second as I unlocked it and scrolled through my recent contacts, searching for her name.

Tori.

I tapped the screen, raising the phone to my ear as the line started to ring.

My foot pressed down a little harder on the gas pedal, the car flying down the dark, winding stretch of the highway.

“Come on, Tori, pick up,” I muttered into the empty car, staring ahead through the

windshield.

The first ring cut through the static. Then the second.

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