Read Dare You To for Free Online

figure this out without him or his fancy lawyer.”
    “They said you were going to hit Trent with a bat,” Shirley repeats as she wrings her hands together. “That’s serious and I thought we needed help.”
    “No. Tell me you didn’t.” I’m in hell. Or pretty damn close.
    “We would have respected your wishes
    about him, but then this happened and…I
    called him. Listen to me, he has a great life now. Lots of money and he wants you.”
    I start to laugh. Only it’s not funny. It’s not HC TITLE-AUTHOR
    53
    even close to funny. It’s the saddest damn thing I’ve ever heard. I collapse into the seat and rest my head in my hands. “No, he
    doesn’t.”
    “He got the charges dropped.” Not a hint of happiness can be found in her voice.
    I keep my face hidden, unable to look at her to see whatever truth she’s been building toward. “What did you do?” I ask again.
    Shirley kneels beside me and pitches her
    voice low. “When I called him, your uncle Scott went to your mom’s apartment. He saw things he shouldn’t have seen. Things that can hurt your mom.”
    I sway to the side as if I’ve been hit by a wave and the rushing sound of being sucked into the ocean whirls in my ears. My world is crashing around me. He went into my old
    room. Mom told me never to go in there after I left to live with Shirley. I never have. There are things even I don’t want to know.
    “He didn’t tell the police,” she says.
    Shocked by her revelation, I peek at her
    through my fingers. “Really?”
    Shirley’s lips turn down and she scrunches her forehead. “Your mom had no choice. He HC TITLE-AUTHOR
    54
    walked into the station with his lawyer and made the demand—she either turned over
    custody of you to him, or he would tell the cops what he saw.”
    My aunt stares at me, her eyes bleak. “She signed over custody. He’s your legal guardian now.”
    HC TITLE-AUTHOR
    55

Ryan
    THANKS TO THE SHOWERS at the community
    center, there’s no need to head home. Clean and dressed in street clothes, I return to heaven.
    Everyone has left the ballpark. The
    bleachers are empty. The concession stand closed. Kenny Chesney blares from the parking lot, meaning that Chris ignored me when I told him I’d catch up with him later. Chris is really good at three things—playing shortstop, loving his girl, and knowing what I need even when I don’t know it myself.
    At least most of the time.
    From the community pool, little kids squeal in delight in time to the sounds of splashing and the bounce of the diving board. My brother Mark and I spent most of our summers
    swimming in that pool. The other part, we HC TITLE-AUTHOR
    56
    spent playing ball.
    I stand on the pitcher’s mound, except this time I’m in blue jeans and my favorite Reds Tshirt. The early evening sky fades from blue to orange-and-yellow. It’s no longer a million degrees and the breeze shifts from the south to the north. This is my favorite part of the game—the time alone afterward.
    The rush of winning and the knowledge I
    have a scout interested in me still linger in my blood. My lungs expand with clean oxygen and my muscles lose the tension that weighed me down during the game. I feel relaxed, at peace, and alive.
    I stare at home plate and in my mind I see Logan crouched in position and the batter taking a practice swing. My fingers curl as if I’m clutching the ball. Logan calls for a curve; I accept, except this time I…
    “I knew you’d be here.” In her brown leather cowboy boots and blue dress, Gwen swings
    around the gate into the dugout.
    “How?” I ask.
    “You screwed up the curve.” In one smooth motion, Gwen sits on the bench in the dugout and pats the wood beside her. She’s playing a HC TITLE-AUTHOR
    57
    game. One I’ll lose, but damn if my feet
    don’t move toward her.
    She looks good. Better than good. Beautiful.
    I ease down beside her as she tosses her blond ringlets behind her shoulder. “I remember you explaining the bases to me