Maid For Beckett Catching The Baseball Legend’s Heart novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151

-Andi-

The air went still, and I felt my heart do cartwheels in my rib cage. I might be poor, but I’d like to believe I’m not slow or stupid. But at this point, as the bench where I’m sitting felt colder than the inside of a freezer, I think my brain had just become frozen.

‘He can’t be talking about me, my mind said, ‘but that look in his eyes told me he’s talking about me, my heart protested.

Three months ago, I started working for him, and he hated my guts. I replayed the first three weeks of my time as his employee. He made me pick up a thousand tennis balls in his Olympic–size pool, made me wash clothes that were soaked in mud, so how can he say that?

Everything that happened rolled over and over again in my head like a bad comedy film. I tried to smile at the bad jokes, but I couldn’t. And the worst part was that Beckett was still watching me, his. thumb still moving in those slow, deliberate circles on my knuckles, like he was waiting for the highlight of this scene.

I pulled my hand back slowly, like a snail into its shell. Then a humorless laugh slipped past my lips as I tucked my hair to the back of my ears.

“That’s really funny,” I said, and I hated how unsure my voice sounded.

“Uh–huh,” Beckett murmured, a small, knowing smile on his lips.

“How sure were you that Sloane was working for Lucas, and how did you shut her up? I changed the topic because if I didn’t. I’m afraid I might ask him questions that I am not prepared to know the answers to.

Beckett doesn’t even look fazed by what he just revealed. He took his sweet ass time, not even bothered that my knees are now both bobbing up and down the ground.

“We took Sloane’s phone, let’s just say her phone had enough leverage,” he explained vaguely, not even jumping into det “She won’t be bothering us anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” I didn’t mean to sound doubtful, but that article could have come from Sloane. Come to think of it, she wanted to marry Beckett; why not make the public think they were already married?

“I’m not taking my chances with her, Andi. I know I have something to hold over her head,” Beckett explained. “Cole has people watching her every move.”

They found me, so I’ve gotta trust that Beckett knows what he’s doing. So I jumped into my next question like I was firing an automatic rifle. I don’t want to give my mind time to drift into issues that have no bearing on my kidnapping.

“What about my father? Were you gonna tell me about him?” I pried, my tone staggering as the cleaning lady had moved further down the path. Somewhere behind us, another cleaning guy moved three benches closer to us.

“I had no reason to hide that from you, Andi,” he explained, with a crease in his forehead as though my question offended him. “Even if you didn’t tell me about him.”

What he said ricocheted back at me, bruising my ego. He had every right to sound hurt because of my tone, for I had put him in danger when I didn’t tell him my father was our visitor in Jace’s villa.

“I… he’s the monster from my past, Beckett,” I lowered my gaze to my hand on my lap. I wove my fingers together as I took a walk down memory lane. “I never thought he’d come back into our lives this way,” I let out a petrified chuckle, “Mom doesn’t

even know about him.”

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101

10 vouchers

Beckett sighed. He once again reached for my hand. Beckett had always been the clingy one between us, always wanting to touch me at every chance he got. And when we are having a deep conversation, he’d always make sure to hold my hand, anchoring himself.

“I know all about him,” he revealed. I turned to look at him, mixed emotions blanketing my face. He slid a tentative gaze at me, smiling carefully. “I had to know who he was, especially after his hand in Lucas‘ plan to hurt you,” he said apologetically. He understood that my father was my story to tell, but then again, our situation was far from a regular family meet–and- greet. My father threatened to hurt us. “I needed to know his capabilities-”

“I understand,” I cut him off, turning my palms over so I could lace our hands together. “You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

He sighed, unloading the truckload of guilt that was weighing on his shoulder. “But what happens to him next is your decision,” he added.

“What have you done with him?” I shook my head, circling back. “No. Don’t tell me that. I saw how petrified he was when he saw Cole.”

“If you really want to know, I can tell you everything,” he offered.

I stopped with a vigorous shake of my head. “I don’t need to know, Beckett,” I begged him, squeezing his hands. “But I don’t know what to do about him just yet. Is that okay?”

It was clear that my father would rather choose to go back to prison, but I don’t know if that would put a stop to the fear he had inflicted on my life again. There was so much going on in my head, and I couldn’t think straight.

“Sure, Andi,” Beckett assured me. “We will take good care of him for the time being, but we won’t let him out of the basement.”

‘Is that… is that even legal?” I don’t know why I was still asking him this. It was as clear as day that Beckett and Cole were holding my father against his will.

Beckett’s expression shifted then, and for just a second, his smile slightly faltered. Something raw crossed his face before be out on his calm facade again.

‘You’re smart,” he started, “you know the answer to that.”

Then I remembered what Cole said. If I want an answer, I will get it from Beckett.

‘Are you and Cole going to be in danger if you hold my father?” I had to know. His family has secrets, but I don’t think I can handle knowing what they are right now,

‘No,” he said. His voice was even, but the weight behind it wasn’t. “My family is not an ordinary family, Andi. You don’t need o worry about us breaking that law once in a while.”

The blaring sound of dustbusters behind us grew louder. I looked over my shoulder, and the cleaning guy was now one bench away from us. We’ve got company, and Beckett realized that, too. He stood up and offered me his hand.

It’s not just an act of inviting me out of the ballpark; placing my hand in his was rather more monumental, as though I was ready to trust him again.

I stared at his hand for a moment, sighing as I placed my hand in his and allowed him to take me away from the stadium.

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