All Wound Up

This game was his. He had the batter and he knew it.

He took the sign from Sanchez, nodded, wound up and threw the pitch.

Curveball.

Called strike three.

Holy shit. He’d just thrown a no-hitter.

Holy shit.

The stadium erupted. Tucker threw his glove down and jumped up and down like a kid. He didn’t care. It was a career maker. Sanchez came running to the mound and so did the infield guys. He was surrounded and tackled and he’d never laughed so hard.

He’d never been so elated, so goddamn relieved a game was over.

“You did it,” Sanchez yelled at him.

The rest of the guys slammed him on the back and Tucker felt tears prick his eyes. He didn’t even try to hold them back as the whole team surrounded him. He looked around at all his teammates, and despite the wild roar of the crowd, he thanked them all, because without their hot bats and their amazing defense, this wouldn’t have happened for him tonight. He owed them everything.

He loved this team. He loved these guys.

The fans were still roaring as he made his way to the dugout.

“You gotta go back out there,” Trevor Shay said.

He did, and lifted his cap to the crowd, making a full-circle turn to acknowledge the entire stadium. They roared even louder. He couldn’t hold back his grin, unable to believe this had happened.

He’d thrown a no-hitter. It was still so surreal. He wasn’t sure when this was going to really sink in.

Wow. Wow. It was something every pitcher dreamed of doing. It was something Tucker had dreamed about since Little League, but never in his wildest imaginings did he think it would ever happen to him in the big leagues.

His coach threw an arm around him.

“Goddamn fine job out there, Cassidy,” Manny said. “One of the best games I’ve ever been a part of.”

Tucker couldn’t hold back his grin. “Thanks, Coach.”

“You’ve got the whole team wanting to hug you and shake your hand, and about a billion press ready to talk to you. It’s your night kid. Enjoy every minute of it.”

“Thanks.”

His pitching coach came over. “I think you can quit worrying about your curveball now, Tucker.”

He laughed. “At least for tonight. Thanks for all your help, Bobby. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Bobby shook his hand, squeezing his arm. “The talent is all yours, kid. I had nothing to do with it.”

He still couldn’t believe it had happened. He couldn’t wait to talk to his parents and his brothers.

Grant. Grant had come tonight. He hoped he and Katrina and the kids would come down to the locker room. He couldn’t wait to see his brother, and was so damn glad he’d been here for this tonight.

He turned to Manny. “My brother was here for the game tonight. Can you make sure he gets through to the locker room?”

“Which one?”

“Grant. And his girlfriend and her brother and sister.”

“Sure. I’ll take care of it. You just go enjoy the moment.”

“Thanks, Manny.” He couldn’t get this stupid grin off his face. He could imagine his phone was blowing up with calls and texts right now.

But he sure as hell wished Aubry had been here to share it with him.

He was going to see her later. An even brighter spot than this win.

They’d talk. And he’d apologize like crazy to her.

But first . . . all this.

AUBRY SAT IN THE STANDS AND CRIED.

First, she’d cheered like a madwoman, screamed until she was hoarse and hugged both Liz and Shawnelle, all of them jumping up and down like kids. The whole stadium had rocked. She’d been thrilled to be a part of it.

And then she’d cried with utter happiness for Tucker. She couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like for him.

She’d been around baseball her entire life, understood the nuances of the game probably more than she ever wanted to, thanks to her father. She’d watched a few no-hitters on television, and had even been present at the stadium for one before this, when she was a child. She knew what they meant to a pitcher. She knew what it meant for Tucker. It was a lifetime achievement that not a lot of pitchers ever realized. This was so momentous for Tucker. It was a game he’d never forget.

She was so grateful to have been here to see it happen.

She rubbed her arms, amazed to feel the chill bumps there.

For Tucker. She was so happy for him.

After spending some time chatting with Liz and Shawnelle, they made their way down to the locker room, which was an utter madhouse of players and press.

“We’ll never get inside,” she said.

“Ha. Think again,” Liz said, pushing her way past the throng with her agent credentials.

Champagne was flowing. Or spraying. And Tucker was the recipient. He was drenched, as was everyone else within close range. Aubry stood back and absorbed the happiness running rampant through the room. It was a night for celebration, television crews were in there along with print press, and she couldn’t be more excited for Tucker.

She hung back to watch it all.

When she saw her father walk in, he said hello to the press, then went over to talk to Tucker.

Aubry chewed on her bottom lip, wondering how that exchange was going to go.

She eased a little closer so she could hear what they were saying.

“You did a remarkable job tonight, Tucker. I’m so impressed.” Her dad held out his hand.

“Thank you, sir.” Tucker shook his hand.