Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He was supposed to finish seminary school, become an associate minister in their church, then find a wholesome Christian girl, whom his mom adored, marry her, make love to her, and give her babies.
Everything in that order as his father planned.
Then the block happened.
Men with iron wills and hard bodies built by labor, violence, and survival. Voices roughened by curses, not prayers, dark eyes under permanent scowls, all drew his attention when it shouldn’t have.
So he’d buried any and all ideas of sex…until now.
As he stood there with uneven breaths, and pulse racing, he realized those kinds of thoughts didn’t disappear. They just waited for the right time to rise again.
Adrian stepped away, and Gage was jolted back to reality.
“First, we don’t swing.”
Gage frowned. “Huh?”
“We don’t swing,” Adrian repeated. “We listen.”
The machine whirred.
Gage held still.
Whoosh.
The ball fired out of the thrower with a loud, swift rush of air and smacked the net behind him.
Again.
Whoosh.
Again.
Again.
At first, it was chaos. A sound coming too fast, and too hard.
Then his mind began to find the cadence of the motor spinning. The micro-pause before release. The whisper of the spin just before it reached him.
Adrian’s voice stayed low. “That’s it. Your brain is already mapping it. Let it.”
The machine cycled again, and Adrian finally said, “Okay. Now we swing.”
Gage’s pulse revved.
Whoosh.
He swung and hit nothing but air.
“Damn,” he hissed.
“Good,” Adrian said.
Gage blinked. “Good?”
“You didn’t hesitate. Again.”
Whoosh.
He swung too early.
“Again.”
Whoosh.
Too late, but he clipped it.
Someone in the next lane muttered, “That guy sucks.”
Fire sparked under his ribs as he squeezed his fingers tighter around the bat.
Adrian stepped closer. “Stop trying to force it. You’re hunting for it. Let it come to you.”
Gage nodded as he tilted his head…and listened.
Whoosh.
He swung.
CRACK.
The impact vibrated up his arms and straight into his chest.
The ball slammed into the back netting with a satisfying thunk that told him he’d hit it hard.
Gage froze before his mouth spread into a huge grin.
Adrian laughed, soft and proud. “That’s what I’m talkin ’bout.”
“Yeah!” Gage yelled.
“Nice. Now do it again,” his teacher ordered.
The next pitch he missed by a hair, but he could feel why.
The third one he hit.
The fourth got knocked out of the park.
He started hearing the exact moment it left the machine, and his body moved as if it’d only been waiting for his permission.
His swing became a rhythm.
CRACK.
CRACK.
CRACK.
Gage laughed
“This is…” He shook his head. “This is freakin’ crazy!”
“I know,” Adrian said. “The whole point is to own it. Take your impairment and control it, not it control you.”
Soon, he was having the time of his life, sweat building at his temples, shoulders warm, soul alive in a way it hadn’t been since before he was imprisoned. Before the darkness. Before being turned into someone he hadn’t asked to be.
Adrian took a few turns too.
Gage listened as Adrian’s bat whacked the ball. The timing was different. It was less technique and more brute force.
“Did you used to play?” he asked.
“A little,” Adrian said, breathing evenly. “But I’m not the one with off-the-charts reflexes.”
Gage snorted.
By the time they left, his body felt used in the best way. As if he’d been allowed to be a person again instead of a problem that needed fixing.
They stopped at a late-night sandwich spot. The smell of grease and butter-toasted bread made his stomach growl as soon as he walked in. He’d been having so much fun, he forgot he hadn’t eaten today.
Adrian didn’t order for him, instead he’d described the options available and let him order for himself, and Gage appreciated that.
While they ate, Adrian talked about his life.
Not his credentials or accolades.
About him.
“My partner dumped me last year,” Adrian said.
Gage paused mid-bite.
“Said he was tired of competing with my patients. That I kept putting other people’s happiness over his.”
He could hear the decline in Adrian’s smile.
Gage’s mind was spinning.
Adrian was smart. Kind. Confident. Fun to be around…and gay.
Of course his first thought was— Is he attracted to me?
No, Adrian had been professional the entire time.
“My patients are important. You’re important, Gage.”
“Thank you,” he said, feeling a little awkward.
“I have a lot planned for you besides reflex work,” he said, “Like crowd navigation. Identifying objects. Threat localization. Pinpointing where someone is standing by breath, weight shifts, and fabric movement. Fall training: how to go down safely, roll, recover, and get back to your feet fast. I’ll train you in cane work—”
He must’ve made a face because Adrian touched his forearm.
“I’m not talking about a flimsy aluminum cane.” Adrian let out a quiet laugh. “I saw the prototype the weapons team is building for you. It’s pretty badass.”
Gage reared back. “Weapons team?”
“You heard me.” Adrian’s smile was back in his voice. “The Ravens are inventing some wicked tech for you.”
Gage was curious now. “Like what?”
Adrian ticked them off as if he’d been dying to share.
“A watch that’s also your comms. An earpiece that filters crowd noise so you can isolate specific sounds. A phone that’s simplified but encrypted. A cane built like a weapon, with a reinforced core and attachment options. And…other things.”