by Becki Willis
Blake reached the door as his sister raced into the far end of the hall. She was quite the sight. She held a vase of red roses in one hand, with two heart-shaped boxes of candy snuggled into the crook of her arm. None of it slowed her down in the least. Blond streamers flew behind her, her hair wild, as her long legs closed the distance. “That girl should be in track,” he murmured in appreciation.
“I see you!” his sister said needlessly, her breath labored from the race through the hallways.
“See if you can open the door.” He knew it was no use, but he rattled the handle from the outside anyway.
Bethani’s eyes suddenly widened in horror and she screeched, “Blake! Behind you! Watch out!”
He turned in time to see Julio behind him, but not in time to avoid his attack. Without warning, the angry teen head-butted Blake with staggering force. The unexpected blow sent him to his knees. As he slung the hair and the shooting stars from his eyes, he struggled back to his feet.
“You sorry, back-stabbing, pansy-assed piece of trash!” Julio flung the words at him, spittle and fire flying from his mouth. He added several colorful insults, but Blake barely heard them. Still stunned from the blow to his forehead, Blake had trouble focusing. “I trusted you, man! I brought you into the fold. But you were setting me up, weren’t you? Playing me for a fool!” He popped Blake in the face with his balled fist, sending him into a backwards sprawl on the sidewalk.
His face swam before Blake’s blurred eyes.
“You tricked me. Your old man is the heat!” Julio accused. “You brought this on, man. You brought this war to your turf. You’ll learn that anyone who messes with me is gonna get burned!” He emphasized the threat with a kick to Blake’s ribs.
Regaining his reflexes, Blake grabbed the boy’s ankle and gave it a hard twist. Julio fell to the sidewalk with a thud and a curse. Still dizzy, Blake managed to get to his feet, seconds before the other boy.
They faced off, their fists raised. It was the age-old dance of the fight. One moved this way, the other followed. One advanced, the other retreated, only to turn the tables and make the next advance. They circled round and round, sizing up their opponent, waiting for the right moment to strike. Julio got off the first jab, but Blake ducked away in time. He came up with a pop to the other boy’s chin.
Bethani pushed through the door, ready to come to her brother’s defense. Neither boy noticed her as they got off a half-dozen good punches each. She hung back, waiting for a chance to wade in without being struck by their thrashing fists. But when Julio backed Blake against the railing and delivered consecutive blows to his stomach, she knew she had to act.
Bethani lifted the roses high above her head, stood behind Julio, and brought the glass vase down with all her strength. It cracked over the boy’s head, broke into a dozen pieces, and fell with Julio as he hit the ground.
She peered down at his inert form crumpled on the sidewalk, covered now with water, greenery, and the battered petals of her Valentine’s Day roses. “I didn’t kill him, did I?” she whispered, her face pale.
Blake shook his head, not yet able to speak.
Satisfied she had done no fatal harm, Bethani quickly removed her belt. “Help me with his hands,” she told her brother. “We’ll tie him to the rails.”
Wincing, Blake bent to hold the unconscious boy’s hands on either side of a metal rail. Bethani made quick work of binding his hands together with her pink sparkly belt.
“Hurry,” Blake pressed.
“I can finish here. You go on. The door’s open now.”
“You sure? What if he comes to?”
“I got this,” his sister assured him. She was already busy tying his boot laces together, looping them through the railings, as well. Julio wasn’t getting free, anytime soon. Not without help.
“You stay here. I’ll clear the auditorium,” Blake said.
“Don’t cause a panic,” his sister called after him. “And don’t play the hero. Be safe, twin.”
“You, too, twin.”
Blake caught sight of himself in the door’s reflection. The sight of him, alone, would stir widespread fear. He took a few seconds to slick down his hair, wipe the blood from his lip, and straighten his shirt. Then he was off to a run, praying he wasn’t too late.
The doors to the auditorium were locked from the outside. Just as he suspected, Julio had the students and most of the teachers unwittingly trapped inside. Working against time and the knot in his stomach, Blake raced around to all three entrances, unlocking and clearing the doorways.
He burst into the auditorium, just as the president of the student council announced this year’s king.
“By popular vote, we have selected this year’s Valentines’ Day King as… Blake Reynolds! Here he is now, in fact! Blake, come on up to the stage.” The girl faltered as she saw his disheveled appearance. “Um, somebody must have just crawled out of bed in time for the presentation,” she chided, her tone only half-teasing. “From the looks of it, I’d say you weren’t expecting to win. I assume you don’t have an acceptance speech ready?”
Despite his busted lip, Blake pasted on a huge smile and bounded onto the stage. “You’re right, Heather. I don’t have my speech ready,” he said into the microphone. “That’s because I’ve been working on a surprise of my own. Everyone needs to follow me outside, right now. You aren’t going to believe this!” He used exaggerated arm movements to motion the student body off their seats and toward the doors. A murmur went through the crowd as they slowly rose to their feet. “No pushing, no shoving, but you’ve got to hurry to see it!” he encouraged them. He saw the principal start forward, his face marred with a frown. “I promise, Mr. Mendoza, it’s worth it. Just wait until you see what’s outside!”
Blake continued with his rally to move the crowd outdoors. “Half of you go out the front door, the other half go out the back. Hurry, so you don’t miss it.”
“Blake Reynolds, what is the meaning of this?” the club sponsor demanded. She stepped from the corner of the stage to confront him. Down on the floor, the principal called for the students to return to their seats and settle down.
Blake covered the microphone with his hand and turned so that no one could read his lips. “I promise, Mrs. Cooley, it’s urgent. I’ll explain later.”
“You can’t just barge in here and—”
His voice quiet but steady, Blake looked the teacher in the eye. “There’s a bomb. We have to clear the auditorium without causing panic.”
To her credit, the teacher remained calm. Her face paled and her eyes widened, but she gulped down a nervous breath and stepped up to the mic. “Mr. Mendoza, if you’ll indulge us this once, I take full responsibility.” She shot her boss a silent plea with her eyes, before turning her attention to the confused crowd. “Students.” Her voice came out warbled, so she tried again. “Minions.” Her voice strengthened with a theatrical quality. “Do as your Valentines’ Day King commands, else you find yourself thrown in the gallows. Believe me, you’ll much prefer the outdoors to the dungeon. Hurry, now, and do his bidding!”
The principal’s face turned an angry red as the teacher openly encouraged the students to disregard his authority. He pointed a finger at Blake and shouted something that was lost in the rustle of the crowd. Thinking this was a Valentine’s Day gimmick, the students were excited, hurrying to file out the door. They did so with minimum fuss and confusion.
Blake jumped from the stage and faced the principal’s angry tirade.
“What is the meaning of this, young man?” he demanded. “You are on the verge of being expelled for—”
“That’s fine, Mr. Mendoza,” the teen interrupted him, “but hear me out.”
“You’d better learn some respect, young man! I—”
Determined to be heard, Blake grabbed the older man’s arm and held it tightly. He ignored the man’s blustered cries to unhand him. Leaning in close, Blake hissed, “There’s a bomb. Dynamite, at least. We’ve got to cle
ar the school.”
The principal jerked his arm free to stare at the teen. “How do you—”
“Just trust me,” Blake begged. “Please.”
Principal Mendoza sized up the young man, peering into his earnest but bruised face. His beseeching blue eyes looked vulnerable and scared. The principal couldn’t miss the moisture pooling within their depths as the teen begged for his trust. Despite his current appearance and his highly unorthodox methods, Blake Reynolds was an ace student, a good athlete, and a well-behaved and popular student.
Mendoza made a snap decision. “You’d better to telling the truth,” he murmured. Then he clapped Blake on the shoulder and gave a curt nod. His voice loud and booming, he spoke to the departing students, “Listen to your King! Hasten to the courtyard. Be quick, I say! Hurry along, ye royal subjects and ye peasants.” He moved among them, sweeping his arms forward. “Single file, both doors, march along, march along. Your King has spoken!”
The auditorium was half empty when the first charge went off. Above the shriek of frightened students and the sudden thunder of their rushed footsteps, high-pitched alarms cut through the smoky air. Blake stayed behind with the teachers, making certain all students cleared the auditorium.
“You, too, Blake. Back door,” Mr. Mendoza said sternly.
Blake shook his head. “I’ll see this through.”
“You’ve done your share, son.” A smile touched the principal’s face. “Go address your kingdom. Calm their fears. It’s your duty as their king.” He extended his palm to the teen, shaking Blake’s hand with new respect. “You saved a lot of lives here today, Blake. You’re a true hero.”
“I don’t know about that…”
“I do. Now go. Get out of here, so we can make sure everyone’s out and safe.”
Blake ran through the smoky hallway, seeing Bethani waiting for him on the other end.
As he stepped outside, sirens wailed. The army had arrived.
The fire department, Cutter included, made it in time to keep the fire to a minimum. Thanks to Blake’s quick thinking, the dynamite did minimal damage to the building. At most, it knocked a few bricks away and loosened some mortar, but no structural damage was done. Thanks to Bethani’s sparkly pink belt and her expert knot tying, the ring leader of the gang was still bound to the railings when Brash arrived. His officers intercepted the three teens in the trees, and within the hour, Smokes was apprehended. All five teens were taken into custody and faced severe charges.
The auditorium would be closed until further notice, but other than minor smoke damage, the rest of the school was unharmed.
Still holding court outside, King Blake made a decree that school was canceled the following day. Principal Mendoza walked out in time to hear the cheering crowd and their chants of ‘long live the king!’
“You forgot something inside, Mr. Reynolds,” the principal said, holding up the plastic gold crown that was never awarded. “I believe this is yours, and justly so.” As he placed the crown on Blake’s blond head, the principal made a brief and flowery speech, thanking the teen for his quick thinking. He included Bethani and Mrs. Cooley in the accolades, giving credit where credit was due. He concluded by holding Blake’s arm high into the air.
“Your king, Blake Reynolds, has spoken. No school tomorrow!”
If there ever was a doubt, Blake was now definitely a hero.
Chapter 28
The wedding proceeded as planned. Given the day’s events and Cutter’s responsibilities with the fire department, Genny generously offered to postpone the ceremony until the next day, but her bridegroom wouldn’t hear of it. He had waited long enough, he said, to make her his bride. After waiting for her his entire life, he wasn’t putting off starting their life together for a moment longer.
At promptly seven o’clock, the church bells rang. Soft music filled the sanctuary. Bethani and Blake—bruises and all—lit the altar candles before taking their seats reserved for family. Like the rest of the wedding party, Bethani wore a red dress and Blake a red shirt.
With the lighting and atmosphere set, the ceremony began.
An audible gasp echoed throughout the church as Genny made her way down the rose-covered path. Her face aglow with happiness—her dimples appeared deeper than ever before, her eyes sparkled their most brilliant blue—she had never looked so beautiful. Her dress was a creation of delicate white lace and tiny pink pearl beads. In typical Genesis style, it featured layers of frilly fullness, and a glimpse of her pink satin shoes.
But it was the look on Cutter’s face—and the glimmer of tears in his eyes—that stole the breath from their guests. And when he surprised them all, including his bride, with a solo rendered in a surprisingly talented voice, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Referencing the song they danced to one year ago on that magical night that led to the turning point in their relationship, Cutter sang his own version of ‘The Lady in Red.’ He changed the word red to white, lowered the higher notes to harmonize beautifully with the music, and left the room in hushed reverence when he finished.
And when the preacher pronounced them Mr. and Mrs. Cutter Montgomery, he let out an enthusiastic Aggie ‘whoop!’ and swept his new bride into his arms for an ecstatic kiss. As they made their way back down the aisle as husband and wife, Genny’s tears freely flowed.
A wedding so memorable could only be followed with an equally grand reception. Plenty of rustic chic balanced the romantic red and pink theme into a look more stylish than cheesy. Good food, good friends, laughter, and high spirits flowed freely throughout the night.
By the time the couple fled to Cutter’s truck—fully decorated with the customary streamers, shaving cream, cans, and cowbells, and with the special addition of his ever-present dog Diogee dressed as cupid—Madison’s feet ached, and her head pounded. Even though it ended on a wonderfully happy note, the day had been long and grueling. Her children had been in danger. The fact weighed heavily on Maddy’s mind, despite the jovial atmosphere around her.
“Just think,” Brash said as he came from behind, wrapping his arms around her as the last of the guests finally left. “This will be us in five weeks and three days.”
Madison released a dreamy sigh as she touched his cheek. She tipped her head back against his strong chest and closed her eyes. “I can hardly wait.”
“We could cheat and find a justice of the peace to do the job sooner,” he suggested as he tightened his hold around her waist.
“As tempting as that sounds, we can’t do that to our families. I think they’re as excited about our wedding as we are.”
His words were a guttural rumble against her ear. “I doubt that.” He pressed his body against hers as proof.
“Don’t make those five weeks any harder than they already are,” she begged. She couldn’t resist reveling in the feel of him, imagining what would be.
“And three days.” His tone was miserable.
Madison consulted her watch, a Valentine’s Day gift from the man holding her. The custom sterling silver band featured hand-tooled hearts and their names intertwined among the scrolled designs. “Actually, it’s more like two days and fourteen hours.”
“Even without the five weeks, that’s too long.”
Madison echoed the sentiment as she hugged his arms to her. “I agree, my love.”
Brash rested his chin on the top of her head. “Genny and Cutter had a great wedding, though.”
“Who knew Cutter could sing like that!”
“Certainly not me.”
“Everything was so beautiful. Genny was absolutely glowing.”
“She’s waited a long time to be a bride. I’m glad her day was perfect.”
The worry crept back into Madison’s voice. “It didn’t begin that way. Brash, do you realize how close we came to a disaster today? We could have lost our children. All three of them.”
“But we didn’t, sweetheart. Once again, Blake saved the day. I am so stinking proud of that boy.” The pride
was evident in his rich voice. “He’s become a real hero. And Bethani, too. They both averted a potentially deadly situation and saved an untold number of lives today.”
“I can’t even think about what could have happened. All those kids, trapped inside the auditorium…” She shuddered, just thinking about it. “What is wrong with people today? What kind of mind does it take to even think of setting fire to a school, or bombing it, or shooting it up? It’s so sad that our world is reduced to this.”
“All we can do is raise our children, the future generation, with the sense of right and wrong, and common decency. Teach them morals and the value of human life. And not to brag, but I think we’ve both done a jam-up job. Our three children are becoming very impressive young adults. It inspires hope, knowing such fine individuals are the leaders of tomorrow.”
“If we can just keep them alive long enough to lead,” Madison agreed in a melancholy voice. “Even if they survive—or prevent—school shootings and bombings, there’s an even bigger risk of being hit by a drunk driver, or someone texting while driving. Both of which, by the way, are illegal but still happen every single day. Signing something into law doesn’t always change things, especially the darkness in a person’s soul.”
Brash turned her around in his arms and declared, “Enough of this maudlin mood. Our children are safe, Genny and Cutter are happily married, and I need the warmth of a good-night kiss before I brave the cold and go home to my empty bed. Which,” he added as solemnly as a vow, “I will magnanimously do for the next five weeks and two days, and not a single night after that, ever again.”
“Never again.” She breathed her own promise against his mouth.
Madison locked the door behind him, set the alarm, and wove her way through the downstairs rooms to turn off lights. They had done a brief sweep through the house earlier, picking up trash and blowing out candles. The rest could wait until morning.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs, smiling as she admired the leftover decorations and the lingering beauty of the evening. She was so happy for her friend, knowing Genny had found true love at last. The future was bright. For all of them.
