Page 4

We all line up and shake each of the Bears’ hands before turning and heading back to our dugout. The team shuffles into the locker room, and celebration erupts.

By the time all the speeches are given, recaps of the game shared, and interviews with news outlets done, I am dressed and ready to go back to my house where I can rest my arm before our next game.

As I make my way out of the locker room, I hear my name being called.

“Andrew Spencer! You better not leave without giving me a hug!” a familiar voice shouts at me.

I turn and see a redheaded beauty flanked by her three husbands. Phoenix has only gotten more gorgeous than she was back in the Darkwood Academy days. My face breaks out in a smile as I saunter up to her and her men, Daxon, Colton, and Mason.

Opening my arms wide, Phoenix runs up and I wrap them around her. After many years, the guys have finally accepted that Phoenix and I are best friends, nothing more and never anything less. I think almost dying alongside her gave me some street cred.

“Hey there, how are you doing? And where is my good luck charm?” Phoenix has been bringing Raven to every home game to watch her Uncle “Roo” play, so she’s my designated good luck charm.

Like I don’t have enough superstitions.

I give Mason and the other two a “man hug” and grunt of appreciation. The guys have all become even more scary since high school. Who would have thunk it?

Mason and Daxon play for the Las Vegas Aces, the professional football team out here. They won the Super Bowl the day Raven decided to make an appearance. What a way to come into the world, showing up the day your dads have the biggest game of their lives.

Just like her mom, she does things on her own terms.

“She went with Lucy,” Phoenix answers. Lucy is their next-door neighbor who retired from her real estate job a few years back.

She has become like a pseudo mom to Phoenix, and Raven has taken a liking to her.

So from time to time, Lucy will take Raven so Phoenix and the guys can have a date night or when they have to stay late to handle stadium business.

“Well, I’ll come by later and read her a book. I can’t have Lucy becoming the favorite.” I grin.

Phoenix playfully slaps me on the arm, and I wince. “Oh! Drew! I’m sorry!”

I hold up my hand. “No, no. I’m just sore as can be from pitching. I didn’t expect to be in for the entire game. My arm is just shot.”

“Yeah, that was one hell of a game.” Daxon nods.

“I was on the edge of my seat when that kid came up, but I kept my cool. Though, I was kinda hoping you would nail him with one.” Mason shakes his head.

“That would have sent the run in to tie up the game, dude.” Daxon scrunches his face at Mason. “And don’t let him fool you. He wasn’t just on the edge of his seat; he was jumping all around and yelling at the top of his lungs.”

“Hey!” Mason interjects.

“So, he was anything but calm,” Daxon finishes.

Colton lets out a chuckle. Some things still have not changed from the Darkwood days. Colton is still all about observing and not as talkative as the other two.

“It was a good game,” Colton adds.

Way to add to it, man.

“Are you headed home?” Phoenix asks, turning back to me.

I nod. “Yeah. I’m tired. My arm needs to rest. Thankfully, Bower is pitching next game. But I will be over later to read to the little one.”

“No, you rest.” Phoenix levels a pointed look at me. “She will be there tomorrow, so you can come by and read to her then. I want you to rest and take care of that arm.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a smile, and she grins back at me.

“Okay, we are headed out. Good game, Drew. Now, go home.” She leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek, and she and the guys take off in the opposite direction.

I make it out to the parking lot and find my beautiful 1967 Mustang Shelby GT 500.

Pewter exterior with a beautiful black interior.

It’s not the original Elenor, but it’s an ‘Elenor’ tribute.

She’s got a 5.0-litre V8 engine and automatic transmission, a ProCharger supercharger, and the correct body and body kit.

She is perfection. Her name is Charlotte.

Don’t judge. You would have given her a name, too. She’s too pretty not to have a name.

Loser by 3 Doors Down blasts through the speakers as I start her up. The engine roars over the music, and I get chills down my spine and goosebumps along my skin. I love that sound. It sends a thrill through me.

I back out of my space and head out of the stadium parking lot. Fighting through the traffic of the Las Vegas Strip, I finally find myself on Interstate 215 and head up toward Summerlin, where my home is.

It’s a huge house tucked away in the mountains; it’s quiet, and I have a view of the Las Vegas Strip that is to die for. I mean, it cost me a pretty penny, don’t get me wrong, but it was worth every cent.

As I drive down the highway, Popular Monster by Falling In Reverse screams through my speakers. I start bobbing my head and spitting out the lyrics as I release any stress I may have had in me.

One thing I learned from Phoenix is how therapeutic singing and belting out songs can be.

I mean, I can’t sing for shit, but it definitely makes me feel better.

Every now and then, we go out as a group to Ellis Island to do karaoke.

While Phoenix blows them away, I make people cringe and cheer to get me off the stage. I love it.

As I pull off the highway, I notice thick black smoke coming from the subdivision I drive past to get to mine. Hair on the back of my neck stands up, and something is telling me to go toward it.

The pit in my stomach grows as I drive closer toward the subdivision. Do I turn in? Drive past? What if someone needs help? Surely the fire department has been called, right?

Fuck it. I need to put my mind at ease.

Quickly, I turn into the subdivision, and I drive down the streets, getting closer to the thick black smoke. It feels like I am driving for hours, but it’s a matter of minutes until I pull up in front of the source of the smoke.

It’s a house. And it’s definitely on fire.

A crowd has formed across the street, but everyone is filming the fire in front of them on their phone. No doubt there are even some live streamers. Because that’s what we do these days–we live stream.

“Hey!” I yell out to the crowd. “Has anyone called 9-1-1?” No one responds. “Hey! Has 9-1-1 been called?” I scream louder.

“Yeah, man. I did,” a younger kid, probably in his late teens, says. He runs a hand through his hair and goes back to filming. Maybe there is hope for people.

“Do you know if anyone is in there?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “No idea, dude.”

For fuck’s sake. I throw my phone in my car and my car keys in my pocket.

Locking the door, I slam it shut and head toward the ranch.

Flames are shooting up from the left side of the house where the garage sits.

The other part of the house appears untouched from the outside, but looks can be deceiving.

As I try to dodge the flames, I see that the front door is completely inaccessible because of a security door installed at the entrance archway.

Fuck.

I quickly go around the side of the house and see the back gate. Running up to it, I see that it’s not locked, so I push it open and sprint to the nearest window. I look in and get a glimpse of a kitchen and a living room.

No one seems to be in there, though the smoke is making it a bit hard to see inside. I hurry over to another window on the far side and notice that there are bars on it.

I really don’t have time to try to think how odd that is; that it’s the only window with bars on it. I cup my hand around my face and peer into the dirty window, and my stomach sinks instantly at what I see.

A body of what looks to be a young woman is lying on the floor.

The room looks bare except for a mattress.

Sirens in the distance break my train of thought as I quickly look for something to try and get into the house with.

I pick up a rock from the landscape and move to stand in front of the sliding glass door.

Winding my arm back, I throw some heat on it and watch as the rock leaves my hand and shatters the glass in front of me into pieces. I take my foot and kick away any of the pieces I can, reaching in to unlock and open the sliding door.

“Hello? Anyone here? Your house is on fire! You need to get out!” I yell out.

The house is barely furnished. Through the smoke, I can see a worn-out leather couch that has rips and tears all over it. The white leather is marked and dirty. There is no kitchen table or signs that anyone lives here.

Except that body lying in that disgusting room with the bars on the window.

I place my arm over my face, trying to see through the smoke. My lungs are starting to feel the effects, coughing and gasping a bit for air. I turn to my right and see a small hallway where I think that room, where that body is, may be.

As I quickly make my way through the hall, there is an empty bedroom to my left, with just a headboard leaning against the wall.

I walk a few more steps toward a door on my right and see that it’s shut.

There are no other doors around me, so this has to be the one that leads to the room I saw from the window.

I touch the knob with the back of my hand just to be sure, finding it’s cool to the touch. Hurriedly, I try to turn the handle, but it’s locked. Fuck. I try using my shoulder as I ram against it, letting out a groan when I realize that was a stupid fucking move.

Wincing at the pain in my arm, I blow out a breath and realize I will have to kick it open.

“Listen, if you can hear me, stay away from the door. I’m going to kick it in!” I yell over the sounds of the flames and wood crackling. That’s when I suddenly realize none of the smoke detectors are going off.

What the fuck?

My hand rubs my chest, and I cough as the air gets thicker with smoke.

I need to get this person out of here. With as much strength as I can muster, I take my leg and lift it up.

In one swift motion, I kick it against the door.

It flies open, and even over the smell of the burning home, the vile smell of this room assaults my nose.

It smells like mold, body odor, and death. Fuck. I feel my lungs burning as I step in, and I immediately see her lying on the floor, her brunette hair oily and filthy. It takes two giant steps to get to her, and I drop to my knees to roll her over.

I have no idea if she is still alive, but I need to get her out of here, and fast. Slipping one arm under her knees and one under her neck, I lift her up and carry her out of the room and back through the sliding door.

Running with her out to the front of the house, I drop her down on a patch of grass on the front lawn. It’s a rarity to have grass here in Las Vegas, but I am thankful for it right now.

I place two fingers under the side of her neck to check for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.

A fire truck and ambulance pull up at the same time I arrive outside. I wave them over to the woman I pulled from the house.

“Here! Help her. She was trapped inside!” I yell out, coughing as I finish.

A paramedic runs over to me. “What’s her name, sir?” She starts to check out the woman.

“I-I don’t know. I just found her inside. She was trapped in one of the rooms,” I wheeze out.

“You went in the house to pull her out?” she exclaims, her eyes looking me over.

I nod. “Yes.”

“Ricky! Get over here! He was inside, too,” she turns around and yells to another paramedic.

Ricky runs over and starts getting his equipment out.

“I’m fine. Really,” I try to insist.

“Sir, you were in that fire. We need to at least get you checked out and—holy shit. You’re Andrew Spencer! Pitcher for the Mavericks.” Ricky’s eyes widen with shock. We may need a paramedic for the paramedic.

“Yeah, listen, I’m fine.” I shake my head and try to stand up.

“I need you to sit down so I can check your vitals.” Ricky pulls out a pulse oximeter and wraps it around my finger. “How’s your breathing? Are you short of breath at all? Any chest pains? I can hear you wheezing a bit.”

“A little short of breath, but I just came out of a fire, so…”

He looks at his machine, and I see eighty-seven pop up on the screen under what I am guessing is the oxygen reading. Guess I know where I’m going.

“You need to go to the hospital to get checked out,” Ricky informs me.

Well, so much for going home and getting rest.