TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) (19 page)

God, I’ll be glad to see the end of senior year—no more classrooms or books or boring exams. I’ve been studying my butt off in my spare time, but that is rare these days, so I’ve had a lot of late nights. Today was exam number five, and I’m grateful for the coffee I had this morning because it’s fueled me up until now. I’ve taken up the new habit to get the caffeine fix.

As I arrive home, I think I see a shadow walk past the living room window.
What the hell? Maybe the coffee is making me delirious.
I creep onto the porch, and I see the shadow yet again.
Mom is gone, and Thomas and Tyler are out. Shit, who the hell is in my house?

I quietly sneak around to the back. I can see a figure plain as day. But it’s not the type of burglar I was expecting. It’s a woman, and she doesn’t look much older than I am—short brown hair, dressed in jeans and a tee.
Who the hell is that?

I try to be as silent as possible as I unlock the back door and sneak inside. I can see her frantically digging through our drawers in the kitchen.
She must be a burglar, but what the hell would she be looking for in the kitchen?

When I’m inside, I contemplate calling 911. I creep around the wall in the family room. She still hasn’t noticed me, thank God.

I can see her closely. There is something familiar about her. I don’t think I’ve seen her before, but I can sense something familiar.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” I state to her trying to get to the bottom of it.

“Shit,” she replies, and she tries to make a run for the front door.

“Who the hell are you?” I question her. She’s not your typical robber, and she’s obviously not after money.

I block her escape. “Are you a drug addict? We have no money hidden here,” I declare.

“I’m not stealing money or drugs,” she shouts to me sounding angry.
Hey, hang on a minute here; you are the person in my house, so drop the attitude.

“Well, what do you want? Couldn’t you have gone to 7-Eleven or somewhere easier?” I ask, and I see her face change.

“Just let me out the door and I’ll go,” she pleads with me.

“Maybe I’ll let the police deal with it,” I state calling her bluff.

“I didn’t steal anything or damage anything,” she replies sounding a little annoyed.

“Breaking and entering is still a crime,” I exclaim. “Do I know you?” I ask her getting that Deja vu feeling again.

“No, you don’t know me,” she answers yelling angrily.

“Well, you gotta tell me something before I call the damn police,” I declare and start to dial their number as a warning.

“No wait,” she says and pauses for a minute. “I’m kind of family,” she admits, and I frown. What does almost family mean?

“What, like a long-lost cousin or something?” I ask her totally confused and frustrated.

“Not quite,” she responds.

“Well, how are we related? I’m getting sick of these games,” I declare now feeling pissed off.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims. “I’m your sister. Jimmy and my mom had an affair.” She drops a huge bombshell.

“What the hell? I don’t believe you,” I say to her. What proof does she have? Plus, this whole thing seems a little sketchy.

“I knew you would say that. I have proof. Look, he signed my birth certificate,” she proclaims shocking me even further.

“What the hell?” I say feeling shocked and puzzled, then I notice her eyes. They are Jimmy’s eyes. “Does my mom know?” I question her wondering how Mom will react.

“Yes, your mom knows. I contacted them both a few years ago,” she states to me.

I can’t believe Mom could keep something this huge from me. Well, from us all.

“So why are you here and what do you want?” I ask her angrily. It’s all a bit too much finding this out, plus I’m tired, grumpy, and stressed as it is.

“I’ll let you process what I just told you. What if I come back tomorrow afternoon, and we can talk?” she replies obviously noticing my frown, and possibly the bags under my eyes too.

“Yeah, that’s a better idea. I’ll be home at three-thirty, and I’ll have Tyler and Thomas with me too,” I announce to her. Whatever she is here for, it includes the three of us not just me.

“Sorry for scaring you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Tyson,” she tells me and leaves through the front door.

Shit. We have a goddamn sister. She called me Tyson, so she obviously knows a lot about us.

I collapse on my bed. I need at least thirty minutes of sleep if I’m meant to function normally at work tonight. Only two more shifts and I have the next week off. I’m one hundred percent ready for a break; life is insane.

Not to mention, we now have a new member of the Caine family.

I hardly sleep a wink all night. I toss and turn as my mind wanders from one thing to another. I pull open my curtains and stare up at the amazing sky full of stars—they transform me with their shimmering beauty if only for a few minutes. I forget the world for a while and become lost in their shining sparkle.

Of course when I finally fall into the land of slumber,  my alarm blares, I could sleep for another few hours, so I snooze my clock twice. Then I jump up frazzled, take a quick shower, and make an extra-strong coffee.

It’s game day. Not just any game day. The big one, it’s do or die. We have worked our butts off all season and to walk away losers now would be devastating.

My mind is crazy; last night’s lack of sleep isn’t helping. It’s floating from football to losing Dad, to meeting my new sister, to Brooklyn leaving.
Fuck, I need to clear my thoughts!

But first, we need to pile in the truck and make like a tree and leaf, or we will be late. “I’m leaving in five, guys!” I shout out to Tyler and Thomas, who are finishing breakfast.

“I’m ready,” Tom replies washing his bowl, and I see him grab his wallet and phone. He’s coming to sit with the juniors to support us. They just missed out on their final by one touchdown.
Frustrating.

I grab my Nike sports bag, shoes, water, and Gatorade and make my way out to the truck. Thomas follows a minute behind me—Tyler had better not take much longer. We jump in, and once seat belts are on, I flick the radio stations. I’m about to honk the horn, but slowpoke comes running out. “It’s like Groundhog’s Day with him; he’s always late,” I declare to Tom, and he chuckles but agrees with me.

Tyler is in, and I start to reverse out while he is clicking his belt, not wasting any more time. I’ve learned not to say much to Tyler on game day. He gets extremely moody so avoiding an altercation is easiest.

Parking at Lewis Stadium is never fun, but luckily, we are early so we get one pretty close. My phone beeps.

Mom:

Good luck today, Tyson. I love you, and you are incredible don’t ever doubt that.

Go Wildcats!

I read her message and smile widely. I needed her support today even if it’s only in the form of a text message—it’s better than nothing. I show my cell to Thomas, and he grins too; any message from Mom is a good one.

Thomas finds his friends as Tyler and I make our way into the locker room. All of this will change for me next year—it’s going to feel very inferior. We do our usual high fives and handshakes with our team, and then it’s individual time.

My ritual of listening to “Bitter Sweet Symphony” needs action and fast. I’m dressed in the usual getup, tights and jersey, knee and thigh pads, shoulder pads and cleats, earphones in, and I focus and relax. Nothing else matters right here, and now, it’s about football. Jimmy is no longer around, so I can win for me, I will make myself proud and enjoy playing while I’m out there.

The last time we played the Falcons, we narrowly won by a field goal, so it could be anyone’s victory here tonight
. It is a good fit for a final.

“Okay, fellas, gather around. This will be my last pep talk this season,” Coach declares as we all make our way into the circle. “And for some of you, my last pep talk as your coach,” he proclaims looking at a few of us.

“I’m not going to lie to you—it’s going to be tough as nails out there tonight. The Falcons are as good as it gets, and they will tackle fast and hard. But just remember that we are also as good as it gets. We are also tough as nails, and we can tackle just as fast and twice as fucking hard,” he exclaims to us revving us up the way we need.

“No matter what, I’m proud of you all, so let’s get out there and make victory ours!” he declares as we all cheer, wolf whistle, and shout.

Now, I’m psyched up. I want this victory. I’m strong and tough and hungry. Bring it on.

The mouth guard is in, and now, the helmet goes on last. I’m pumped after our warm up and ready to roll. No guts, no glory.

****

“The crowd is going wild at Lewis Stadium tonight for the finals between the Cedar Lake Wildcats and the East Chicago Falcons,” the commentator says into the microphone.

“Tonight’s game is set to be a nail biter from start to finish with some exceptional plays to be witnessed.”

The fans and crowd are cheering loudly for our well-known team. “Go Cedar Lake,” a few kids shout out with excitement. “Wildcat’s to win,” I hear others scream out trying to outdo each other.

The fans are the backbone of our team—their loyalty and encouragement really keep us motivated and hungry to win. We line up ready to run out through the tunnel.

“We can do this, Wildcats,” Tyler tells us in his usual confident tone. Nothing seems to faze him; he’s untouchable.

“Now, let’s welcome the first team Cedar Lake Wildcats to the field,” the commentator declares.

The monstrous crowd roars and cheers, whistling and clapping as we make our way out. We confidently stride out onto the field with our heads held high, proud of how far we have come to get here. We deserve to be here, we are worthy, and we belong no matter what happens from here on out.

The grass is bright green, the overhead lights illuminate Lewis Stadium, and it feels like we have hit the big time. The crowd has to be a sellout; there must be five hundred fans cheering for both teams with no empty seats in sight.

I can smell the paint from the freshly marked lines, the scent of war is in the air. Team against team, we are enemies till winner takes it all and the loser walks away with nothing. The fans are deafening, screaming and shouting. They holler out as their favorite player makes their way out to the field.

“Next up, let’s welcome the East Chicago Falcons,” he declares.

The fans for the Falcons are just as loud and extreme. I block out their cheers and focus on the victory that could be ours. Much like a war, we will fight until the end. Losing is not an option.

****

The whistle is blown, and it is game time.

The Falcons kick off since it’s our start. Jay, our center, catches the ball, and their defense quickly takes him down. They are vicious from the start. Their tackles are forceful and violent. It’s as if they have been training with the Hulk or something.
It’s brutal.

Buzz has already been in the first-aid tent for the blood bath in the first ten minutes, and he is one of the tough ones.

Next play, we are tight on defense and get the ball to Tyler, and he is quickly tackled. I see his head jerk from the impact. He stays down for a minute, and I reach down to help him up.

“They are gunning for the Caine Brothers,” the announcer declares, and it is true. Tyler and I have been lucky to get a few yards.
So we gotta pull out all the stops and be smart, try and outsmart them all. I have an idea.

The Falcons have the ball. Their quarterback receives it and makes a run for the touchdown line.
Not on my watch.
I sprint faster than ever before, pumping my legs to get me there faster, and I dive hard and rapidly. I slide down his body and manage to grab hold of his legs pulling him down.
Shit, that was close.

“Great job, Tyson,” Tyler says to me, and it’s his turn to help me up. Jake pats my shoulder, as do a few of the others. It’s vital that the Falcons do not score. Even one touchdown can win them the game and destroy us.

At halftime, it’s still 0-0. Talk about a tough match—it’s about being resilient and tenacious, who can go the distance and still manage to take home the trophy.

“Okay, guys, we have held them at bay; our defense has been exceptional,” Coach declares. “Now, we have to score. We gotta change it up and make a new game plan,” he adds looking more stressed than usual.

“Coach, I got an idea,” I shout out smiling. It’s a long shot but might just be worth it. We huddle, and I tell them my plan. I saw it once in a televised game.

“If anyone can win this, guys, it’s us. We are strong, fierce, and determined,” I tell them trying to boost morale.

“Let’s fucking smash those Falcons,” Tyler shouts and of course, his bluntness gets the most reaction. We are pumped.

We take our positions, and the horn blows—it’s our ball.

Jay starts with the ball. He kicks it as far down to the line as possible. Then Emmett, who is our tight end, picks it up. He fakes a field goal, and as we planned, all defense run to the kicker. But instead, he flicks the pass backward to Tyler since he is our fastest runner. 

I run alongside Tyler, my teammate, my brother, and the best quarterback in Indiana. I’m guarding him with my life. It’s more than just a defense guarding his attackers; it’s a metaphor for so much more. I would die for my brothers. I would give up my life so that they could live. 

The Falcons right guard realizes we have fooled them, and he runs for Tyler. I dive and take him out. The back guard is now after Tyler too, so I jump to my feet. Jake beats me to it and tackles him. Only a hundred yards until the touchdown line, so I sprint faster than ever to be there for him. 

Shit.
Somehow, Henry Rider, who is two hundred and fifty odd pounds of pure muscle is waiting for Tyler. So just like Opie in
Sons of Anarchy
, ‘I’ve got this’ I mouth to him knowing the injuries from attempting to tackle Henry will be extensive. But I’m taking one for the team, one for my brother, and one for our forever alliance and kinship. 

I don’t hold anything back. It will be like hitting a brick wall. I brace myself and prepare for the forceful smashing I’m about to receive. 

I collide with Henry’s midsection, and it's worse than I imagined.
Much worse.
Henry feels like concrete. My tackle and weight don’t hold him still. He manages to stagger a few yards, but I don’t let go. I secure my grip and tug with all my strength to get him to the ground. I can’t see Tyler, but when I hear the crowd cheering, I know he’s made it. 

But it’s too late for me. Henry Rider is pissed. I let go. Before I can stand, he has tackled me wildly. The force has demolished me, my neck is whipped, shoulder jarred. His weight is on me. I’m winded and feel like I’ve cracked a few ribs. I’m secured to the ground, battered and beaten. I’m now trapped under this monster. My breathing is panicked as he stays on me.

“Get the fuck off him,” I hear Jake shouting, and he pushes Henry. I feel the relief of his weight removed. I thought I had a pretty high pain threshold, but this fucking hurts like a bitch.

I literally can’t move a muscle; it’s too painful. The medic and first aid run out next to me. I must have blacked out because the next thing I hear are the ambulance sirens. 

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here,” I faintly hear Brooklyn’s sweet voice. 

“Brooklyn,” I manage to say through the pain. I’ve been sucking on morphine, and it’s finally kicking in as I smile.

“Good drugs, huh?” she questions me seeing my change of demeanor.

I nod and chuckle, now oblivious to the drama and my damaged body.

The ambulance ride is like something from Universal Studios, and now, I’m high as a kite. I’m admitted into a room, and a few nurses and doctors check my stats. I’m wheeled from one room to the next as I’m sent for x-rays, but right now, I’m grateful for the morphine as I feel a few twinges of pain. It must be starting to wear off.

I gaze at the huge clock in my room, and Tyler, Thomas, and Brooklyn all walk into my room an hour later.
I’m still a little high, but feeling more pain than I would like.

“Two football players and a dancer walk into a hospital room. The doctor sees them and asks, ‘How’s your balls hanging, fellas’ and ‘Miss, did you know you have danced your way into my heart?’” I say to the three of them without really thinking. It was the first thing that popped into my head. They all chuckle loudly.

“Ah man, you are so high,” Tyler tells me laughing hysterically. I laugh at their reaction, which is not good for my pain.

“Mr. Caine, I’m your doctor, and you did quite some damage tonight,” the doctor declares as he walks into my room and checks my chart. “You have three broken ribs, a cracked vertebra in your neck, and a possible shoulder dislocation,” the doctor tells me.
Wow, that’s even worse than I expected. 

“Holy shit,” I say out loud. No wonder I’m in pain.