“No remorse, Psycho?” Powers raised a brow.
His silence said it all.
Romeo and Chaser nodded their agreement.
Behind the Bat Pack, their sports agent, Cal Winger, shook his head, disgusted by their behavior. Winger had represented the three players from their first appearance in the majors. He’d grown gray trying to keep them in line. And quite bald. Frown lines bracketed his mouth. He looked ten years older than his present forty-five.
Powers still had a full head of dark hair. He’d be damned if the Bat Pack would drive him to either hair dye or plugs. Or an early grave. They’d already caused him an ulcer.
There would be no fighting in his organization. Not as long as he owned the team. His starting pitcher was out for the count. Which left the bull pen lean.
Powers scooped his rubber stress ball off the desktop. He squeezed it so hard his fingers pressed his palm. The tension slowly left his body.
He wanted to be calm when he leveled his punishment on the Bat Pack. Clearing his throat, he spoke with the authority of his position. “Psycho, you’re the most fined and suspended player in Major League Baseball, both on and off the field. You disregard rules and fair play. You’re arrogant and self-centered, and a total pain in the ass.”
Psycho’s eyes widened in a who, me? expression.
Keeping his voice even, Powers tallied, “Four black eyes, five split lips, two dislocated shoulders, and a bruised kidney resulted from the fight. In the midst of the fray, Romeo slammed into Emerson Kent and knocked her down. Her suit jacket was ripped and her slacks grass-stained.” Powers cut his third baseman a look. “She’s new to sports. I don’t want her harboring ill-will toward the Rogues. A personal apology and the purchase of a new outfit are in order. Understood?”
Romeo slowly nodded.
Powers lowered the final blow. “The Bat Pack will be suspended one game for each man or woman injured.”
“Sit the bench for thirteen games? Son of a—” Psycho swore a blue streak. “I’m more at fault than Romeo and Chaser. Suspend me, let them—”
“Walk?” Powers shook his head. “They should have held you back, not joined the fight.”
“This totally sucks, Guy.” Psycho was the only player on the team who called Powers by his first name.
“It’s about to suck a whole lot more. You’ll be fined for fighting. I’m talking six figures.”
Psycho’s jaw went slack. “You can’t—”
“I can, and I will,” Powers assured him.
“Trade me.”
“Definitely an option.” An option Powers would never execute. No other player breathed baseball as Psycho did. The right fielder was a feared contact batter and base stealer. He consistently drove in ninety runs from the leadoff position. His leaping catches on defense had frequently robbed an opposing player of a home run.
He’d slammed into the cement wall so many times, chalk outlines similar to those drawn around a dead body decorated the outfield perimeter. Each one was a testament to his dedication to the sport. He had six Golden Gloves and had been voted onto the 2006 National League All Star team.
Powers pushed his chair back from his desk, stood. He met Psycho’s gaze squarely. “Keep your animosity off my field.”
Every muscle in Psycho’s body tightened as he leaped up. “Might want to share that advice with Wimbledon as well.”
Powers watched the Bat Pack leave his office. All strut and swagger. Young men flanked by fame and fortune and a lack of repentance.
Once management had departed, Powers sat alone. He’d done what he had to do. He’d taken the Bat Pack off the roster. Richmond fans would not be happy. The Rogues had gone four years without a Divisional Championship. Five years had passed since they’d won the World Series. Richmond wanted another trophy as much as Powers needed control over his team.
His Rogues lacked unity. He blamed the salary cap and off-season free agency for the dissension. Only six of his original starters remained. The newcomers crashed the park with attitude and their own sense of self-importance. An importance that the Bat Pack resented. Captain Risk Kincaid had gone out of his way to build team spirit, but the Bat Pack had pulled the welcome mat.
The three power hitters stood alone. They had each others’ backs. And no one else’s.
Powers faced Opening Day with rookies and second stringers. Not a good way to start the new season.
His heartburn flared like a blowtorch.
ONE
Cody “Psycho” McMillan’s doorbell rang, the tones playing thirty seconds of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’s “I Won’t Back Down.” Barefoot and bare-chested, his jeans unsnapped, he jabbed in the code to disengage his security system. After hearing three clicks and a beep, he opened the heavy oak door, then leaned negligently against the jamb.
“Cody McMillan?” A slender woman with delicate cheekbones and a dimple in her chin stood outside. Her deep blue gaze was as cautious as it was curious.
His eyes narrowed. “Who’s asking?” He lived on the outskirts of Richmond, in a gated historic district. Yet time and again fans and groupies landed on his doorstep. Her car wasn’t parked in the driveway, which meant she’d walked onto his property. Walked, or climbed the stone wall surrounding his Colonial. The lady didn’t look like a rock climber.
The afternoon sun struck her from behind as she stood beneath the columned portico, surrounding her in a halo of light. Dressed in a wrinkled blue suit and worn-down heels, she looked like an angel down on her luck. He glared at her darkly. “You’re trespassing.”
She took him in, from his narrowed eyes and naked chest to his bare toes. She blinked twice, then said, “I’m here on business.”
“Insurance, encyclopedias, vacuum cleaners—I’m not buying.”
“I don’t do door-to-door. I’m here to offer my services.”
“Do those services include your sweet mouth?”
Her lips parted, and her eyes went wide.
Crude and rude, he’d rendered her speechless. He was acting like a jerk, but didn’t give a damn. Since he’d been suspended from the Rogues, he’d lit into anyone who’d crossed his path. This woman had picked a bad time to offer him a service.
She swallowed hard, took a step back, only to catch one navy pump on an uneven brick. She wavered, nearly lost her balance.