Chapter 5
Ethan moves into the only hotel in town.
A decent place.
Not the Ritz.
But clean.
And close to Clara’s house.
Close to Lucas.
He spends the next three days in a kind of daze.
Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the boy’s face.
Hears his voice.
Is he my dad?
Can you throw a curveball?
On the fourth day, he shows up at the Little League field.
Lucas’s team is practicing.
Mark is there.
Of course he is.
He’s one of the coaches.
Ethan leans against the fence.
Watches.
Lucas is good.
Really good.
Strong arm.
Good eye.
Natural athlete.
Just like his old man.
Mark sees him.
Pauses.
Then walks over.
He’s holding a clipboard.
Sweat on his forehead.
“He pitches tonight,” Mark says without preamble.
“First game of the playoffs.”
Ethan nods.
“Good.”
“Clara’s not happy you’re here. Thinks it’s too much too fast.”
“Does Lucas know I’m coming?”
Mark hesitates.
“I told him you might stop by. He said… he said he’d like that.”
Ethan’s chest feels tight.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it because he asked. And because keeping you away would hurt him more than letting you in. But understand this, Carter.”
Mark leans closer.
His voice drops.
“I’ve been that boy’s father for seven years. I was there for his first steps. His first day of school. Every fever. Every nightmare. Every scraped knee. You get to be the ‘real dad’ or the ‘bio dad’ or whatever label you want. But I’m his father. And if you do anything—anything—to hurt him or confuse him or make his life harder… I will end you. Do you understand?”
Ethan holds his gaze.
“I’d expect nothing less. Any man who loves my son enough to raise him as his own… he’s earned the right to threaten me.”
He pauses.
“But I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not going to hurt him. Ever. The only people I’m going to hurt are the ones who kept us apart.”
Mark studies him.
Then nods.
Once.
“Fair enough. Stay behind the fence. Don’t go to the dugout. Not yet. Let him get used to you being there.”
“Understood.”
Mark walks back to the field.
Lucas looks over.
Sees Ethan.
Waves.
Small.
Shy.
Ethan waves back.
His hand is shaking.
That night, the game is tight.
Lucas pitches six innings.
Two hits.
One run.
Nine strikeouts.
He’s incredible.
Ethan watches from the fence.
Cheers until his throat is raw.
When Lucas strikes out the last batter to win the game, the team rushes the mound.
Mark lifts Lucas onto his shoulders.
The boy is laughing.
Triumphant.
He looks out into the crowd.
Finds Ethan.
And grins.
Ethan grins back.
Tears actually prick his eyes.
He hasn’t cried since he was a kid.
Not since basic training.
Not since his father told him Clara was gone.
But now…
Now he cries.
Quietly.
Alone behind the fence.
While his son celebrates the biggest win of his life.
After the game, the team goes to the local diner for burgers and ice cream.
Ethan is about to leave when Lucas runs up to him.
Still in his uniform.
Dirt on his cheek.
Grinning.
“Did you see me? Did you see the last pitch? It was a curveball just like you said!”
“I saw it. Best curveball I’ve ever seen.”
Lucas practically glows.
“Mark says if we win the next two, we go to the state championship.”
“I’ll be there. Every game.”
The boy’s face falls slightly.
“Mom says you might have to go back to the city. That you have a job and stuff.”
Ethan kneels.
Looks him in the eye.
“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to. Okay? I got a new job here. I’m staying in town. For as long as you want me.”
Lucas’s face lights up.
“Really?”
“Really. And I rented a house. Just a few blocks from yours. With a big backyard. We could put up a batting cage. If you want.”
The boy’s eyes go wide.
“A real batting cage?”
“Real one. With a machine that throws seventy miles an hour. If you can handle it.”
Lucas scoffs.
“Seventy? I can hit eighty. Easy.”
Ethan laughs.
It feels good.
Natural.
“We’ll see, slugger. We’ll see.”
Clara walks up then.
She’s been watching from a distance.
Her face is unreadable.
“Lucas, honey, the team is waiting for you. Go on.”
He runs off.
Ethan stands.
They watch him go.
“You rented a house?” Clara asks.
“Closed on it yesterday.”
“Ethan… this is moving so fast.”
“Eighteen years is fast enough, Clara. I’ve wasted enough time. I’m not wasting another day.”
He turns to her.
“I’m not here to break up your marriage. I know you love Mark. I know he’s good to Lucas. And I’m not going to do anything to hurt that. But I am going to be in my son’s life. Every day. Every game. Every school play. Everything. And you can either help me do it right… or we can make each other miserable. The choice is yours.”
Clara looks at him.
Really looks.
The boy she loved.
The man he’s become.
Harder now.
Sharper.
But still Ethan.
Still the boy who wrote his name on a baseball and promised her forever.
“Okay,” she says quietly.
“Okay?”
“Okay. We’ll try. For Lucas. But we do it my way. Slow. Careful. No surprises. No big scenes. And you talk to me before you talk to him about anything important. Deal?”
She holds out a hand.
Ethan takes it.
Her hand is still soft.
Still familiar.
“Deal.”
Across the parking lot, a man sits in a black SUV.
He watches them shake hands.
Watches Lucas run back to them.
Watches the three of them together.
Like a family.
He speaks into a phone.
“They’re making nice. All three of them. Henderson isn’t here yet.”
A pause.
Then Harrison Carter’s voice.
“Keep watching. I want to know every move they make. Every conversation. Every time Ethan so much as breathes near that boy. And find me something on Henderson. Anything. A man that perfect has to have a skeleton somewhere.”
“Understood.”
The man hangs up.
Keeps watching.
In the diner, Mark Henderson comes out of the bathroom.
Sees Ethan and Clara together.
Sees Lucas between them.
Laughing.
Happy.
And for the first time in seven years…
…Mark feels the cold grip of fear.
May you like
That the family he built…
…might not actually be his to keep.
