Caught (Men of the Show Book 3) (24 page)

“I told him he needed to tell her, and he said he would, but…” Jason broke off, clearly not knowing what more to say. It was obvious he wanted to stick up for his friend, but didn’t know how.

“But now they’re both in the hospital,” Karen finished with disgusted sigh. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but once Shannon’s father gets down here, all hell is going to break loose. There’s no telling what he’ll say or do.”

“I know,” Jason said bleakly. “He’s already a mess mentally and things are only going to get worse.”

“She’s asking to see him,” Jerry said.

Jason let out a heavy sigh. “After the news he just received, he doesn’t want to see anyone, so I honestly don’t know if he’d welcome a visit from her right now. He threw me out, as a matter of fact, and he won’t even listen to his parents. I tried to tell him about Shannon, but we were interrupted.”

“What’s going on?” Jerry asked him.

“They’re taking him into surgery, but they told him the prognosis might not be great. He might not play ball again.”

“Oh shit,” Jerry said as he paced in the opposite direction. “What a fucking mess.”

“I know,” Jason agreed. “Once they told him he might never play ball again, they might as well have signed his death certificate with the way he’s taking it.”

The room went silent and Shannon lost the battle against sleep.

Chapter 18

Two days later, Shannon’s doctors released her from the hospital. The severity of her concussion had them keeping her a couple of nights, but they’d finally discharged her to the care of her parents, who were on their way to pick her up and take her back to the condo they’d rented. Her release instructions consisted mostly of getting plenty of rest, keeping her arm in the sling to prevent jostling, and avoiding traveling by plane until her concussion symptoms abated. Until then, she would stay in Florida.

Which was fine, as she wanted to remain close to Matt and help him with his recovery, even though she had yet to see him. Every time she’d asked, Karen had convinced her to wait, insisting Matt was still groggy from surgery or with his doctors and nurses or with his therapist, or whatever excuse she came up with. After a while, that was exactly what they were—excuses. But now she wasn’t at the mercy of others and could visit him like a normal visitor and nobody could stop her.
 

She didn’t know why they were all trying to keep her from him, but it didn’t matter. She was going to see him and she was going to see him now. She was going to find out what the hell was going on.

A nurse came in with a wheelchair and smiled at Shannon. “You ready to go?”

“Yep,” Shannon said as she sat down.

Holding her purse in her lap, the nurse wheeled her to the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. They exited the hospital into the bright Florida sunshine and Shannon immediately nodded toward a bench by the doors.

“I can sit here while I wait for my parents. They said they would be here shortly.”

“Are you sure, honey?
 
I can wait with you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m fine, really. Besides, they’ll be here any minute, I’m sure of it. Thank you.”

Shannon climbed out of the wheelchair and seated herself on the bench. She smiled at the nurse, who sauntered back into the hospital. Shannon waited five minutes before she got up and walked back through the same doors.

Despite the dull ache in her head and shoulder, along with sluggish movements, determination propelled her. She approached the information desk and tried to appear bright and alert.

“Hi. I’m looking for Matt Buck’s room, please?”

“Name, please,” the older man sitting at the front desk asked.

“Shannon Morrison.”

After pulling Matt’s information up on the computer, he glanced at her before picking up the phone. He told whomever answered the other line in a low voice that a “…Shannon Morrison was here to visit Matt Buck.”

His shrewd eyes studied her as he waited and Shannon smiled at him, hoping to hide some of her nervousness. She’d forgotten the situation, forgotten Matt’s status as a well-known athlete, and the restrictions likely in place as to who could visit him, given the crime. Surely the media had gotten ahold of the story by now and wanted the grisly details. She was definitely off her game not remembering the unique circumstances of the situation, but she had to be on the approved list, and if not, then someone was going to get an earful.
 

Thankfully, whomever the gentleman had been speaking with confirmed Shannon’s approval. He hung up and smiled at her, while giving her a visitor’s badge with instructions on how to get to Matt’s room.
 

She took the elevator up to the fifth floor and took a deep, calming breath before letting her feet carry her to his room. Rather than overwhelming excitement to see him, to touch him and talk to him, consuming apprehension almost made her turn around. She’d been so confident beforehand, but insecurity now settled in its place. He hadn’t attempted to reach out to her. What did that mean?
 
Did he even want to see her?
 
Had he even been asking about her?
 
Would he ask her to leave?
 

She scoffed, telling herself she was being ridiculous. Of course he would be happy to see her. Why wouldn’t he be?
 
Matt loved her. This wasn’t
her
fault. There had to be a perfectly valid explanation why he hadn’t been able to see her…or call her.

She stood outside his closed door, battling to steady her thudding heart as it tried to pound its way out of her chest. She cleared her throat and adjusted her arm in the sling, still not used to the contraption, causing her to wince. She wished she’d taken the time to make herself somewhat presentable, but she was here now.
 

Reaching out, Shannon pushed the door open and the sight of Matt lying on his bed, his left leg straight and stiff immediately greeted her. His hair was messy, most likely from him running his fingers through it, hard lines of strain showed in his face, and his body remained rigid. He stared out the window, but his head turned at the sound of the door. When his eyes landed on her, he didn’t appear happy, but he didn’t seem upset either, rather bland, emotionless and detached. His face was drawn and haggard. His bright blue eyes, usually full of warmth and a spark, were flat and dull.
 

She smiled at him and stepped in, letting the door close behind her. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hey,” Matt answered in an impassive tone.

“How are you?”
 
She stopped next the bed near his head.

“Been better.”

Shannon nodded and tried to overlook that he’d yet to ask her how she was, but she wrote it off to the shock of the situation he’d been thrust into. He’d never been so closed-off and distant, and she struggled with what to say, how to snap him out of it.

She glanced down at his leg, noticing the bandages covering his incisions as well as the metal frame in place to keep it stable. There was obvious swelling and deep purple bruising along the leg, which looked painful to her.

“How’s the leg?
 
What’s the prognosis?”

“What are you doing here, Shannon?”
 

Her head snapped back sharply at the harshness in his voice, and her eyes immediately welled up. Why wasn’t he even happy to see her?

“Matt,” she whispered. “What’s going on?”

He sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. “Just leave, Shannon. I don’t want to talk about my leg.”

She stood in shock as he effectively turned his back on her without actually doing so, alarmed at the drastic change. One day they were planning a life together and now it was as if they were strangers. He acted like she’d pulled the trigger, that she was the one who did this to him. She was a victim just as much as he was, so why was he punishing her?
 
His dismissal pissed her off and she swiped angrily at her tears.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re going to talk to me.”
 
Shannon waited, and when he continued to ignore her, she pressed on. “If you truly meant what you said when you told me you wanted to be with me, that you loved me, then you owe me this much.”

Matt opened his eyes and glared at her. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Things are a bit fucked up now, as you can see. There’s not much more to say than that.”

“You don’t even want to tell me why?
 
Why you never told me about her or anything?”

“What’s the point?” he exclaimed. “I didn’t, all right?
 
There’s not much I can do to change that now. It doesn’t matter anyway. Not anymore. Nothing does.”

“Nothing?” she repeated. “Nothing matters?
 
Not even me?”

“Just go,” he said, his tone weary. “I can’t do this now.”

“When then?
 
If not now, when?
 
It’s not like you’ve tried to reach out to me since we’ve been here. I had to come down here, concussion and fucked-up shoulder and all. And you know why?
 
Because you’re important enough for me to do that.”

His cool blue eyes locked on hers. “And there’s your answer.”

Shannon gasped as the tears started to fall again and she didn’t try to stop them.

Matt finally appeared distraught and he swallowed hard. She could tell he was fighting some emotions, she just didn’t know which. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I…I just can’t think straight right now.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I…just…”
 
He stopped and dropped his head with his eyes closed. When his gaze met hers again, in it was a deep, gut-wrenching ache that tore at her heart. “Look at me,” he whispered.

“I am, Matt. Tell me what I’m supposed to be seeing, because I am looking at you and I see the same man as I did before.”
 
She reached out to grasp his hand.

“No.”
 
He pulled his hand away. “No. I’m not the same man and I don’t know if I will ever be again.”

“No,” she said. “You may not play baseball again, but you
are
the same man. Someone who’s caring, fun, loving…that’s still you.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m not the same man you fell in love with. He’s gone. You couldn’t…you can’t be…”
 
He stopped, took a deep breath as he collected himself and his eyes turned hard. “It doesn’t matter. My life has been turned upside down. I may never play ball again. Never.”

Shannon faltered, stumbling slightly as she backed away from the bed. “I see,” was all she said as she finally comprehended the underlying message. Baseball was all that mattered. Nothing else, not even her. “I understand that is all you care about right now. I’m sorry if I thought I somehow was included, but I guess I was wrong.”

With her shoulders stiff, she stepped out of his room. She continued straight to the elevators, ignoring the tears streaming down her face and the bone-aching hurt threatening to weigh her down. She retraced her steps through the hospital back to the wood bench outside in the sun without seeing anything. She plopped down and sat in a daze, replaying the conversation in her head. Never before would she have characterized Matt as self-centered, but he certainly was acting like a selfish asshole now, and if he only wanted to focus on his issues then she wouldn’t get in his way. She’d given up everything believing he was a different person and now she had nothing. No job, no boyfriend, no direction. Nothing.

When her parent pulled up to the curb, Shannon caught her father’s sharp eye when he climbed out, a clear sign her life was about to get harder. A lot harder.

*
 
*
 
*

Matt lay wide-awake despite it being well past midnight. Darkness filled the hospital room with only a slim beam of light passing between the slits of the blinds. The occasional soft thud of footsteps as someone passed by his closed door broke through the quiet. But even with the dark and the silence, sleep eluded him.

It might have been expected, given the extreme discomfort with his leg. His movements were restricted and the throbbing unrelenting, the pain, although somewhat dulled by meds, never truly disappearing. But he’d deal with the physical pain, never shied away from it before and, in fact, he spent the majority of his seasons hurting in one way or another. Most catchers did given the physical demands of their position. No, this was a different pain in the form of a big fucking hole in his chest.

Even if he couldn’t get back with the team this season, he’d been confident he would return to the field next year, but four little words from one of his doctors killed what hope he’d had—
never play baseball again
. Forget the fact his doctor had said
might
; it didn’t matter because Matt hadn’t heard anything else.

Everything else had faded away afterward, leaving him focused on and obsessing over the loss of the game he loved. Simply put, he lived for baseball. If he didn’t have baseball, he didn’t have anything; he didn’t
want
anything. He wanted to go out on his terms and only then, not a second beforehand. He didn’t want to hear he’d be a great coach or he’d find something else to do in the game. No, fuck that. He was a baseball player, he was a catcher, he was the manager on the field, and he was a goddamn great hitter…that was who he was and he wasn’t ready to change. Not yet, damn it.