Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,25
is a criminal and a liar, but his track record with World Series championships still speaks for itself. Sure, there will be people who think he’s a phony and still just trying to get in front of the cameras because he has nothing better to do in jail. But there would be more who took that grain of sand he planted in their mind and let it unfurl into an entire beach. As if it isn’t hard enough doing my job now, there would be even more scrutiny.
And this is my father, I don’t think I have to go into huge detail about how emotionally scarring a parent speaking out against you is. When you have a parent who trashes you to other people, no matter if it’s on a grand scale or to your best friend’s mother, it leaves a tiny cut. I should know, I’ve been sustaining those cuts my entire life. Some are scars now, having healed over from one too many verbal assaults on my character or ability. That’s what happened when the person who was supposed to love you most in this world constantly chose the side against you, put you down, made sure you thought you’d never be enough.
You know what they say about death by a thousand cuts …
The door to the room I’m in creaks, and the handle turns with a metallic click before its pushed open. I shoot straight up, swiping at my cheeks even though the damage of swollen redness has to be done.
My sudden movement catches the entrant’s eye, because they flick the light on, and then I’m standing in the same space as Hayes.
“Jesus, I didn’t know anyone was in here!” He practically jumps, clearly surprised by my presence.
“What are you doing?” My voice cuts the air, hostile and thick with emotion.
“I left my gym bag by accident when I came down to get massaged after practice.” He eyes me skeptically. “What are you doing in here?”
I flash my gaze to the bag that’s sitting on the table. “Well, get it.”
Hayes frowns, stepping toward me. “Colleen, are you—”
I can’t handle the look of pity in his eyes. “Don’t. As if I need to give you one more reason to view me as weak and ineffective.”
I’m a wounded animal, biting back against the hand that’s trying to feed me.
His back goes ramrod straight, and I can feel the cool temper start to bubble off him.
“This have anything to do with the bullshit interview your father just did? It’s not that big of a deal. Everyone knows your father is a piece of shit. You’ve been weathering his storm.” He shrugs as if the ugly words my own parent just spoke about me mean nothing.
“It’s a big deal to me. I’ve been actively trying to prove everyone wrong, keep it together, and now this will bring even more disdain to this … you know what, I don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you. You’re one of our biggest enemies in this.”
My thoughts aren’t completely rational right now, and everything coming out of my mouth is unprofessional, but I can’t stop. My emotions are drowning me, and if I’m not careful, I might just cry in front of this man. One who already thinks I’m weak.
“Your family cheated the system, that’s what everyone thinks,” he says, as if every Callahan who has ever worked for this ball team is corrupt.
My blood boils, and I suddenly feel like picking up one of the lotion bottles on the counter next to me and hurling it at his head.
“You don’t think I wear a scarlet letter of shame every single day because of who my father is? I fucking hate that vile human being. He’s tarnished everything I love about this game, taken it and twisted it into a nightmare. I love this team, I love this sport. Of course, I’m embarrassed, I’m ashamed, I can barely look at myself in the mirror and I’m not even the one who did those things. But his blood runs in my veins, and so I bear the weight of his mistakes as well. But that does not mean I, or any number of my family members, are anything like him.”
Tears begin to leak down my cheeks of their own accord, and I swipe them away angrily as shame burns my face.
“You’re crying, I didn’t mean to …” Hayes has a momentary flash of remorse, of sympathy, but it only makes me more defensive.