Curveball

Chapter 74

Sitting up the next morning, a little disoriented and confused Shawn looks around the hotel room, running a hand through his hair before getting up and walking to the bathroom. He sees lipstick across his cheek, lips and on the collar of his shirt, a few kiss marks trailing down his torso to his boxer briefs.

"What the hell?" Shawn says quietly looking down at the marks. He sighs, getting in the shower and scrubbing at his body before making it to practice. A few teammates just watching him as he gets loose. One of the players walks up, showing him pictures on his phone, the photos from the night before.

"Shit," Shawn runs a hand through his hair. "I didn't do anything."

"Right..." he looks at him.

"What? I didn't. I remember last night."

"Then how do you know you didn't do anything? You left with her from the club."

"No, I'm saying I remember. I didn't do anything."

"Whatever you say man. Why'd you send these?"

"I didn't send them. That girl had my phone. I remember her rummaging through my pants. She must have taken them and sent them to people," he stands there. "Shit..." he mumbles, pulling out his phone and looking through his pictures seeing the ones the girl took and then clicking on his messages seeing who all she sent the pictures to. The pictures sent to Jenna. "Damn it she sent them to Jenna, but she hasn't opened them yet."

"No shit," his teammate laughs. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Bitch and I'm pretty sure she took some of my money too," Shawn sighs as his phone starts ringing and a picture of Jenna and the kids popping up. "Shit shit," he says before answering. "Hey babe..."

"Daddy!" he hears Cora on the other end. "I wanted to say good luck," she giggles.

"Thank you babe. Where's mom?"

"She's getting Conlan ready to go to work."

"Oh okay. Is there any chance I can talk to her?" he asks, hearing his daughter run up the stairs. "Daddy is on the phone."

"Hey, how's Texas?" He hears Jenna.

"It's good. That text message you got from me with pictures delete it okay? Just junk mail that got sent to a bunch of contacts."

"Sure," she says focusing on getting Conlan ready. "Sweetheart stay still," she mumbles.

"Okay, I need to get off here. I love you."

"I love you too," she says, hanging up and doing precisely what Shawn asks, deleting the texts. He scrolls back through his messages and notices a number that he doesn't have saved on phone, the number has all the pictures sent to it, not just one or two. Shawn dials the number.

"Hello?" a girl answers.

"This Amber?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"You don't remember me?"

"Should I?" she laughs.

"I guess you better make sure your drugs work to the full effect when you drug somebody."

"What are you talking about?"

"Shawn. Baseball player?"

"Hey...how are you? How's your wife?"

"You got some nerve," Shawn smiles.

"I have all the nerve."

"Delete the pictures," he instructs.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it could ruin you."

"Ruin me?" she laughs. "I have these pictures, plus your wife is beautiful...good body."

"What did someone ever do to you that you want to ruin a stranger's life?"

"Nothing."

Shawn clenches his jaw with her answer, hanging up and immediately calling his agent. She answers after a few rings.

"I didn't expect to hear from you this early in the season."

"Yeah, I got a problem."

"Never a good thing. What's going on?"

"The guys and I went to this strip club last night. Well, this girl tried drugging me. She took pictures on my phone, sent them to the guys, to Jenna, and she stole some money out of my wallet."

"Well, that is a problem. What would you like me to do?"

"She also sent the pictures to herself. I don't know what she plans on doing with them."

"Alright. I'll see what I can do," she hangs up. Shawn letting the phone fall in his lap and running a hand through his hair and looking up to see a few guys looking over at him.

"What?" he looks at them.

"Nothing. Just impressive."

"What's impressive?"

"Getting a stripper and keeping your hot ass wife at home none the wiser."

"The stripper can kiss my ass."

"I'm sure she did by the look of those pictures," one of them laughs.

"Nothing happened," he looks over at them. "I can promise you that," he says right as a text message comes through from Jenna, a link to one of the paparazzi photos from Shawn and the girl. "Shit," he sees it texting her back. "None of it is true."

No response.

Later that evening Shawn's phone rings, indicating a FaceTime call is coming through as he sees its Jenna. He answers. "Hey, hey babe.." he tries to force a smile. He sees Jenna, not saying anything, her eyes red and tear streaks down her cheeks, tears still running down them. "Baby I didn't do anything."

Nothing.

"Say something please."

"Who is she..."

"Nobody important because nothing happened."

"Who is she..." she asks again, even quieter.

"Some stripper," he says softly.

"I have to go," she hangs up.