Out of His League: Book Two (18+)

Chapter Fifty

Jesse

*Ring, Ring*

I leaned up against the jail wall, listening to the ring of the phone. "Come on, fucking pick up," I mumbled in agitation.

"The caller you are trying to reach isn't available. Wait for the beep to leave a message or hang up now," An automated voice spoke.

My eyes closed shut, taking a deep breath.

*Beep*

"Vinny, where the fuck are you guys? You said you were coming yesterday to bail me out. I'm dying here, man. Just pick up the damn phone...please," I slam the phone back down.

One of the guards walked up. "Time's up. Let's go, Marshall."

I clench my teeth together and nod once as he leads me back down the hallway.

Once we get to where my cell was, the door opened, and I walk back inside where the three other guys I was stuck in this hell hole with were sitting around in.

There were two bunk beds on either side, and they had already been here before me, so I was left with the one bed that smelt like literal shit and piss. It's been two damn nights sleeping on that, well, more like barely sleeping, and I'm worried it's about to be three. Part of me thought maybe Ryder or Nix might come through, but after waking up yesterday, I realized that they couldn't give two shits about me right now. I can't say I don't understand why since everything that happened with Vee and Sam. I'm sure they got everyone on their side ready to fight me by now, but whatever, I can take what they have to throw at me.

I climbed up on the top bunk, laying back on the disgusting and thin mattress that shouldn't even be considered one at this point. My eyes glanced at the lanky-looking man sitting up against the wall on the other side with a tattoo of what looked like the spider on his right arm. He didn't seem like a scary or crazy type, but who the hell even knows what he's in here for. I looked around at the other two. Not one of us has barely spoken a word, and I could be in a god damn cell with a person that just murdered someone or something.

My focus was now on the ceiling above me, feeling anxious and trapped in this small square full of criminals that I don't even belong to be in here with. I mean, who the fuck gets arrested for throwing a few punches in a dumb fight between friends. Well, at least he was a friend, and I might have deserved a smack or two, but he took it too far without even talking to me first.

Yeah, I fucked up the last few days in a major way, but no one will even listen to what the hell I have to say without shit turning into another fight like it did with Sam. Looking back now, I should have gone to the hospital to be there for Nix and Ryder while at the same time they have no idea why I was torn between throwing that fucking party and going with Vee. They think they know me when really they don't know that much at all. We've been friends for a while, but I haven't ever felt comfortable opening up about my life at home with anyone. Even Vee doesn't know everything. All she really knows is that I have a shitty relationship with my family, especially my dad. It's been like that since I was a kid.

My past isn't something I like to talk about with anyone, and to be honest,  I don't think any of them know what it's like to grow up trying to prove to your own parents that you weren't a mistake like they always said that you were. That's how I got into baseball. My dad has been a fan of the Tampa Bay Ray's as long as I can remember, and he played some baseball back in the day. He took me to my first ever professional game when I was five years old, and I saw how he looked watching the guys out on the field. It was the first time I ever really saw him smile, and that's when I thought becoming like one of the players out there would be the way to get him to look at me like that. I wanted my dad to finally be proud that I was his son and for the face of pure disappointment to be wiped away. That has always been my hope, and that's what helps me make those tough decisions, whether it leads to clouded judgment or not.