Pitch Perfect(70)

She tried to keep still and managed admirably through the first two pitches—a ball and a strike—then Tucker wound up for the third and unleashed a perfect curveball. The batter swung, and the entire crowd fell silent when the crack of the bat echoed through the stadium.

The ball didn’t pop up like it should have, and instead flew straight back from home plate, directly to the pitching mound. For a second Emmy couldn’t process what had happened. The ball stopped at Tucker, and she wasn’t sure if he’d caught it. Then the collective audience all gasped, and overhead was a smattering of oh my God.

Tucker staggered, and his hat slipped off the back of his head. At home plate Alex was standing, his mask up, watching Tucker with the same wary expression Emmy must have had on her face. When Tucker stooped to one knee, that was the moment she really understood what had happened.

Tucker had taken a line drive to the head.

Emmy was on her feet in an instant, shells crunching beneath her as she bolted from the dugout onto the field. She ran to the pitcher’s mound with Jasper at her heels and Alex making a dash from home plate.

Emmy got to him first and crouched in front of him, propping her hands on his shoulders. “Tucker?”

“Unh?”

She snapped her fingers in front of his face, drawing his focus to her instead of—she presumed—the tiny cartoon birds floating around his head.

“You okay?”

“Yes?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” She raised all five.

“Five,” he said, his tone almost offended as if he wanted to know how she could ask such a stupid question.

“No.”

“No?” His expression changed instantly from offense to fear.

“Four. And a thumb.”

Jasper laughed behind her, and Alex took a knee next to them. “Hey, Tuck.”

“Hi, Alex.” Tucker sat back and looked at the two of them uncertainly. “Did someone throw to first?”

“Yeah. Your skull managed to get it there.”

“Is he out?”

“No.”

“Balls.”

“That’s a way to say it.”

Emmy waved in front of Tucker. “Hi, hon, can we focus?”

“Barely.”

Emmy brushed his hair back and sucked in a breath. A large red goose egg was blooming on his forehead, practically the size of the ball that had created it.

“I have to pull you,” she whispered.

Jasper handed her an ice pack, and she collected Tucker’s cap from the ground before holding the pack against his head.

“I can stay in.”

Alex—a veteran of taking balls to the head—laughed out loud. “Like hell.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Tucker pointed at Alex.

“I’m not listening to him,” Emmy said with a sigh. “You’re listening to me. You’ve taken a hit, your head is swollen and you might have a concussion. I can’t let you play, Tucker. I’m not going to risk that.”

“I can do it.”

“You might also drop dead on the mound before the end of the inning. I’m sorry. I’m pulling you.”

Behind Jasper, Chuck was standing with his arms crossed, watching the exchange. When Emmy and Alex helped Tucker to his feet, Chuck pushed by the assistant A.T. and met Emmy and Tucker at the base of the mound.

“How’s he doing?” Chuck asked.

“We have to pull him.”

Chuck grimaced and made an angry grumbling noise. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m going to take him in and ice it down. We need to schedule an MRI right away. I’m going to monitor him, keep him awake and make sure there’s no concussion.”

“What about his next start?”

Emmy looped Tucker’s arm around her shoulder, and while waiting for her to reply, Chuck made a gesture to the bullpen for the middle relief pitcher to come out.

“His next start will depend on what the MRI says,” Emmy replied coolly, trying not to be too angry that Chuck was more concerned with his starting lineup than he was with Tucker’s health. A ball to the head with the speed and force of the one Tucker had been hit by could have knocked him out. At the right angle, it might have even killed someone. Tucker was lucky to be standing.

“You take good care of him,” Chuck said. Omar, the relief pitcher, had arrived at the plate, and Alex took a last look at Tucker before jogging back to home plate to help the new pitcher warm up. Emmy could see from his expression Alex wanted to come along with them and make sure Tucker was okay, but it was his job to stay in the game.

Emmy led Tucker through the dugout, leaving Jasper behind to keep an eye out for the players remaining in the game. Once they were alone in the clubhouse, she guided Tucker to a table in the trainer’s office.