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

by Aleya Michelle

  “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.

  “You also have a punctured lung from one of your ribs, so we will be prepping you for surgery shortly,” he adds. I gaze over at Brooklyn, who looks extremely worried.

  “But on a positive note, I believe you saved your quarterback's ass, and he scored the winning touchdown,” the doctor adds surprisingly, and I nod and chuckle.

  “Why, yes sir, I did all that, and this here is my brother, the quarterback,” I tell him pointing at Tyler. I’m sure he will love the attention.

  He shakes Tyler’s hand. “Good job, son,” he tells him. It then that I realize he should be celebrating.

  “Hey, bro, get outta here! You gotta go celebrate our win!” I shout at him feeling annoyed I’m stuck here while they get to celebrate. “Have a few beers for me,” I proclaim as I think about lying here alone while everyone else is partying and having fun. Depressing.

  “Only if you are sure. I’m glad you are okay, Tyson. I was worried, bro. You really saved my ass again,” he exclaims to me, and I smile at the brotherly words exchanged.

  “I would do it again in a heartbeat, bro,” I declare as we high five, and he hightails his ass off to the victory party.

  “I can’t believe he is actually leaving, but it is Tyler, after all,” Brooklyn says looking unimpressed with Tyler.

  “You are all the family I need in the world, Miss Waters,” I declare still feeling high and trying to avoid thinking about the surgery ahead.

  Exams are done an
d dusted, thank God for that. I really feel like burning all my textbooks—I’m that over all of the studying and hard work. Unfortunately, it does mean that it’s time for my girl to leave.

  “I can’t believe you are leaving today, Brooke. I know it’s a fantastic opportunity in New York, but I will miss you like crazy,” I say feeling a lump form in my throat.

  It’s been hard work with rehab since the big game. My surgery went well, and I’ve fully recovered, though my shoulder still hurts like a bitch at times. Nothing will compare to Brooklyn moving across the country. Her two-hour flight is nothing really, but it feels like a million miles.

  “My summer will be dark and dismal without you here. How will I cope without you, Brooklyn?” I question her as the day is finally here when I have to say good-bye.

  “What about me, Ty? How will I cope without you?” she pleads. “At least you have your brothers, Jake, and the other boys on your football team. I’ll be in a brand new school, have new classes, and won’t know anyone,” she says, and I can tell she is getting more upset by the minute. “I won’t even have Cassie.”

  “It’s so scary to start fresh. I love to dance, and this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but man, it’s daunting,” Brooklyn tells me as we load her bags into her dad’s car. He has insisted he is driving her to the airport, and honestly, I think it’s best. I would be a mess if I had to say good-bye to her there and then drive back.

  “You will be fine, Brooke. You are the strongest woman I know,” I state to her truthfully. “Plus, in a few months, we will see each other. We can do this,” I say to her putting on a brave face for her. This is her dream, and I will support her no matter how hard it may be.

  We spent a beautiful night together last night. We had a romantic dinner and her dad let her spend the night at my place. We made love three times. God, I’m going to miss kissing her and her smoking hot body. But most of all, I will miss her sense of humor and the connection that we have. Being around her makes me a better person. The plan is for me to fly to New York the first free weekend we have.

  God, I hope it’s sooner rather than later.

  ****

  Life is a series of damn challenges—it’s the way you deal with each challenge, hurdle, or obstacle that defines you in the world. Much like moving to New York, it’s a huge challenge that I need to face alone.

  Each decision has an outcome, and whether it is good or bad, it’s all part of the way life works. I’ll take the good with the bad. The good is my fantastic dancing opportunity, and of course, the bad is leaving Tyson and my friends and family.

  Since I lost my mom, I have grown a lot. I’ve learned that life is short, and you need to chase your dreams, follow your heart, and do what makes you happy.

  Tyson makes me deliriously happy. We laugh constantly, and we can’t keep our hands off each other, even if it’s just to hold hands and caress each other. It’s so sweet. I feel aglow with warmth and joy when I’m around him. I’ve never smiled so much and never had so much fun. It feels like I’m living in a fairy tale. He sweeps me off my feet daily like a cliché knight in shining armor. Kinda perfect, if there is such a thing.

  Sometimes, I wonder if my mother gave fate a little push that night at the carnival. If Tyson hadn’t made the first move by talking about his feelings, I don’t think it would have happened. He was so nervous. I was in shock and hesitant at his confession, but I had a sudden urge to kiss him, and something told me just to shut up and go for it. The kiss was amazing and secured the deal. We would never be just friends again.

  Tyson and Brooklyn—it does have a sweet ring to it. Not doing the surname thing, but Brooklyn Caine does sound like a cool name!

  ****

  When I arrive in New York, I’m blown away by the craziness of the traffic and the hustle and bustle. The thick scent of exhaust, loud horns, brakes screeching—it’s overwhelming.

  I’m grateful that I settle into my dorm room relatively easily with Lisa, my roommate. She is an art major, and we get along quite well, although her definition of fun is totally different from mine.

  As for the classes, dancing is phenomenal. It’s only been eight weeks, and I have learned so many new dance moves and awesome techniques.

  At night, I cry myself to sleep. I can’t get past the empty void of not having Tyson with me. We speak every day, sometimes numerous times, on the phone and FaceTime, but it’s not enough.

  It’s been two months without seeing Tyson in the flesh, touching his skin, tasting his lips, and I’m feeling homesick and restless.

  God, I miss him.

  I’ve decided to surprise Brooklyn. Two months apart is fucking enough. Like seriously, I was missing her like crazy after the first week, and it’s been a slow torture since. I miss her gorgeous face, kissing her plump lips, and just being in her company.

  The plane ticket wasn’t cheap, as I went out on a whim and booked a flight at the last minute, but she is worth it. I seriously feel like a kid on Christmas morning seeing her again.

  After my flight, I catch a cab and arrive at her dorm. It’s on the ground floor, the window is facing onto the grass area, and I walk over hoping to catch a glimpse of my sweetheart.

  What I see is completely unexpected. A male figure is inside her room. Why the hell is there a male in her dorm? And he is making coffee as if he lives there.

  Maybe I have the wrong dorm number. But then I see her, my angel, my first love, and the one I thought would be mine forever. Brooklyn is smiling broadly and laughing. My heart feels torn in two.

  As if she senses me, her eyes find me and her brows lift in surprise. The girl with the sweetest lips, the one who knows my every secret, the one I’ve shared my heart and soul with has destroyed me.

  I’m in fucking shock.

  “Tyson,” I see her mouth. But to hear her say the words “it’s over” would be too much, I couldn’t bear it. I turn and run like the wind. Away from her and whatever excuse she will give me, away from anymore hurt or heartache.

  “Tyson, wait, it’s not what you think,” I hear her call out as she runs after me. But I can’t turn around. I can’t go back. Brooklyn is no longer my everything; she has gone from being my whole world to now becoming my undoing.

  “There Goes My Baby” by the Drifters is the song that comes to mind.

  I’m dying inside.

  The pain is excruciating.

  I don’t think I will ever recover from this.

  I don’t believe in life after this love, no way.

  If my heart were made of glass, it would be shattered right now. I feel numb, I can’t cry or scream or react, just numb. My phone is buzzing like crazy, Brooklyn has called me nine times, but I can’t bring myself to listen to the messages.

  I change my flight at the airport, and forty minutes later, I’m heading back to Indiana alone, where I will spend the rest of my days a lonely old hermit who despises women.

  The flight is dismal and dreary. I could really do with a beer or hard liquor right about now. The plane lands, so I collect my luggage and am grateful I have my truck in the parking lot. I speed off, still dazed and detached from reality, thinking about it being over with Brooklyn hurts like a knife in my chest.

  I’m so caught up in my grief I don’t notice the semi-trailer who speeds through the red light. The accident happens so fast. I hear the screeching of the tires, and the smell of burning rubber, as my truck spins out of control. The crash, the flames, and sirens are all a blur.

  I know I was speeding, not thinking. My mind was elsewhere, and my heart was hurting. Then the burning, sharp and stinging pain in my leg, it’s horrendous. I scream in agony.

  Whether it’s from the shock or an internal injury, I black out. The next thing I remember is hearing my mother’s voice. “Tyson, I’m here, my darling boy.” I feel her squeeze my hand. I try to open my eyes, but they feel so heavy, and the light stings them making them water. I close them again, unable to deal with the brightness.

 
; “Just rest, Ty. I’ll be by your side,” I hear her assure me, and as always, her calm words soothe me, and I drift off to sleep.

  Next time I wake, I’m able to keep my eyes open. I see my mom’s beautiful face and tears well up in my eyes. “Mom, I’m so sorry to put you through this again.”

  “No way, don’t be silly, Tyson. I promise you, no matter what, I’m here for you,” Mom insists. “I understand now why you left when you did it, too many memories, and bad memories at that,” I say to her.

  “Yes, but there are so many good ones too.”

  “Mom, it’s over with Brooklyn and me. There was another guy at her place,” I announce to her. Hearing the words out loud hurt even worse.

  “What? Oh, Tyson, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Have you spoken to her?” she questions me.

  “No, and I don’t plan to. It’s unforgivable,” I declare and close my eyes again.

  “The new day’s sun will bring you hope, Tyson. Sleep now, my baby,” Mom tells me lovingly.

  God, I hope he takes good care of my Brooklyn, whoever the hell this new guy is. I want to kill him, but I would never wish anything bad against her. Those are the last thoughts running through my mind before I fall asleep.

  ****

  The next morning, the pain is so intense it wakes me up so I buzz the nurse for some pain relief. The sun is shining through the curtains, so it must be after seven. I need to remember to ask Mom for a clock, or even my watch.

  I close my eyes to block out the pain; the burn and throbbing in my leg is intense. The knock on my hospital door startles me. I jolt and open my eyes. The stunning blue eyes staring back at me cause me more pain than the second-degree burns on my leg.

  The wound in my heart is still fresh and hurting. I even feel tears well up in my eyes, and I’m not much of a crier. I can’t speak. The words I think in my mind are ‘I hate you right now’ and ‘How could you?’ but her answer could destroy me even more.

  “Hey,” she says to me in her sweet voice that used to make my heart skip a beat.