The Firsts Series Box Set

by M. J. Fields

  Trucker laughs, while the muscles in Logan’s jaw twitch, and then he pulls his white hat down over his eyes.

  “Logan and Trucker’s shared date paid over fifteen thousand dollars for her date with the number one Most Wanted and the number one draft pick last year. The winner of this date will be flown to New York City, where she will spend two nights in a luxury suite in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, compliments of Gold Crown Resorts. They will spend one evening on Broadway, having dinner and watching a production. The second evening will be spent in the Resort’s spa, where they will enjoy a couple’s”—she laughs—“or triple’s massage and being pampered the entire night, ending with room service for three in her suite.”

  I definitely just threw up in my mouth, but it’s not just Logan who I trust; it’s also Trucker, who I don’t. He is clearly here to torment Logan and my sister. Asshole.

  “Logan, the envelope?”

  I watch as he opens the envelope, cursing myself for not bidding on it. The winner is...“Maddison Brown”—he flips the card over—“who can’t be here tonight but is excited to meet us in New York on”—he shakes his head—“February fourteenth.”

  “Perfect.” Trucker claps his hands together. “Valentine’s Day is for love.” His eyes travel down Isabella Steel’s body as she throws her head back and laughs before looking at the stage.

  “Looks like we’re about fifteen minutes from the start of the show. Take a look at your tickets and feel free to start finding your seats and be prepared to get rocked!”

  As they walk off stage, I look at Keeka, who turns her back to me. I know she’s doing it so she doesn’t have to see Trucker.

  Logan walks off the stage and straight toward me, wrapping his arm around my waist before moving us toward our families.

  “Hey, Lucas,” I hear Trucker from behind us.

  When Logan stiffens, I wrap my arm around his waist and put my hand in his back pocket. He looks at me curiously, and then I give his rock-hard ass a squeeze.

  “You trying to distract me?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and trying to give me an intimidating look.

  I’m not easily intimidated, so I squeeze it again. “Is it working?”

  His lips curl up slightly.

  “Trucker, how’s it going?” I can hear the smile in his voice, and Logan’s nostrils flare slightly.

  I look over at Lucas when I hear him say, “Great season you had, son.” Then I quickly look back at Logan.

  “Incredible season,” Trucker says. “Hope you know I’m aware I owe you a lot.”

  “You don’t owe me shit.” Lucas laughs, and Logan’s irritation seems to increase. “You did the work. Proud of you. Just keep on working on what’s important to you...in all aspects of your life. Don’t let the game become everything, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Sent you tickets.” Trucker now sounds even less like a douche and more like I remember.

  “I know. Just had a hell of a lot going on around here. Sorry I didn’t make one.”

  Trucker shrugs then forces a laugh. “There’s always next season, huh?”

  “You’re damn right there is.” Lucas pats his back.

  “Nice to see you. I’m gonna go say hello to some of the guys.”

  “Don’t be a stranger,” Lucas tells him.

  When he leaves, Logan turns and looks at Lucas. Nope, glares.

  Lucas sighs. “Logan—”

  “Fuck that, Dad,” he snaps at him.

  Lucas shakes his head. “You know him better than I do, and you know damn well—”

  “I knew him,” Logan cuts him off. “I don’t give a fuck what he was. It’s who he is now I wanna crush.”

  “I get it, but what you don’t get, Logan, is a man can look back as fast as he looked away, and neither you nor I should piss on his chance to do so.”

  Logan starts to argue when Lucas holds his hand up. “Remember who you are and what you were taught. And don’t you forget I’m number forty-two’s biggest fan for fucking life, but I’m still your father, and sometimes, I do know what I’m talking about.”

  Lucas pulls him into a hug then steps back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of Skittles, tossing them to him. Logan catches them.

  “You played a hell of a game today. What you said up there, never been prouder of you ever.” Before Logan can say a thing, Lucas turns to Tessa. “Let’s go find our seats.”

  She laughs. “We’re back stage.”

  “Baby, play along.” He sighs and tugs on her hair. “You’ve never been that damn blonde.” He laughs, releases her hair, grabs her around the waist, and pulls her away.

  I look up at Logan, who looks away. I squeeze his ass again, and he looks back, raising an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  I shrug.

  “You wanna side with him, then give me a few minutes to chill.”

  I smile. “I’m on your side. Number forty-two for life.”

  His entire body relaxes, and his face softens. “He fucked up. Still is fucking up.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “I wanna beat the fuck out of him.”

  “So, let’s go do it.”

  He scowls then rolls his eyes at me.

  “We can take him. You and I, we can totally—”

  He crashes his lips against mine and laughs against them. “I love you.”

  “Love you more, Logan Links,” I say against his.

  He pulls me into a hug, and then we stand there for a very long time, just holding each other. Even though thousands of people surround us, we are taking this time to enjoy the moment, our moment, every moment.

  “What’s up, Syracuse?”

  The crowd starts to scream.

  I look up and see Memphis Black, lead singer for Steel Total Destruction.

  He laughs. “In case you didn’t know, I’m Memphis Black, and I’m part of this band we like to call STD.”

  The crowd loses it again.

  “We met Maddox and Brody Hines a few years back before STD were cool.” He laughs, and so does the crowd. “Oh shit, we’re the ones who made them so cool they had to change it to STI.”

  The crowd laughs again.

  “So, we were just starting out and no one else would touch us, like we were an infection and not just a disease. But these guys, they gave us a shot. Not only did they give us a fucking shot, they supported us from the go. They liked our disease. In fact, I’m pretty damn sure they loved it. When we heard about the event, we figured our invite was lost in the mail or some shit.”

  The crowd laughs.

  “So, we basically invited ourselves.”

  More laughter.

  “I’m not gonna open this show in the typical fashion.” He shields his eyes and looks out over the crowd.

  The crowd cheers even louder.

  Logan steps back and looks at Keeka. “Let’s go.”

  She nods.

  Logan is behind Keeka, and I’m in front of them, making our way through the crowd that has yet to all be seated.

  Memphis Black laughs again and continues, “It appears to be a family affair, but we wanted to hop up here and tell you it’s time to start spreading love like a fucking STD.”

  “So much for a family event.” I laugh, and Keeka finally smiles.

  “It’s time to stop hate. It’s time to stop bullying. It’s time to stop looking the other way when a neighbor is in need. And it’s time to live every fucking moment the way you want to be remembered!”

  I see Maddox and Dad walk out on stage, guitars hand.

  “Maddox and Brody Hines, everyone!”

  The crowd is now deafening.

  I watch as Dad nods to Maddox then smiles when he steps up, hugs Memphis, and stands in front of the mic.

  “Good evening. I’m Maddox Hines.”

  When the crowd hits a new level, both Keeka and I cover Leddie’s ears as we watch from the wing.

  The lights dim and several screens turn on as Maddox begins to sp
eak again.

  “Today, we remember the lives lost, but we remember them with love and with fondness. We remember to make every moment count!”

  Music begins, but it’s not coming from the stage. It’s coming from the speakers.

  Watching the screen, the name Douglas Jones flashes across it, and then photos for him with loved ones, fishing, dancing, on holidays, celebrating, laughing, smiling, and hugging.

  “My son was thirty-two years old...”

  I quickly glance from the screen to the stage, where a woman stands under a spotlight and speaks of her son while holding an unlit candle.

  “I was blessed to see his smile nearly every day. I was blessed that he called me Mom.”

  She walks across the stage, and Coach Brown then Dad hug her. I see my mom by his side. She also hugs her, and then Lucas lights her candle.

  My heart shatters in two as I gasp and cover my mouth. Logan pulls my back to his chest and envelopes me in his strong arms as tears slide down my face.

  Each name accompanies pictures, followed by a loved one, a brief story, and a lighting of a candle. I have to turn around and bury my head in Logan’s chest when I see Martha Newman’s pictures, the woman who saved so many, including me. When I look back, I see three girls talking about their mother, with a man standing beside them, no doubt their father. When they finish, he ushers them to the other side of the stage, where their candles are lit.

  I turn back and fist Logan’s shirt in my hands as I bury my head in his chest, counting every break in my heart.

  “I’m Trucker Cohen. Jones was just some kid I met through messenger online, during the second semester of my senior year. I checked out some of his game clips, the guy had raw talent, no direction, no family—raised in the system—no reason to smile. But, as you can see in these pictures, that’s all he did when he was on the field. Called him my little brother. And he was like a brother for the year he and I became friends. He talked a lot about what he wanted, and I heard everything he said. The day he got in here was my proudest moment, and yeah, his, too.”

  A picture flashes across the screen of Trucker and Jones at Jones’ high school graduation. I am so shocked that Trucker took the time to attend his graduation when Jones had no one else.

  I look at Logan, who shakes his head. “Motherfucker.”

  “You didn’t know,” I say, knowing it’s eating him up.

  “Fucking should have,” he growls.

  “Logan, don’t do that to yourself, okay? Please don’t.”

  “Every moment counts,” Trucker says. looking over in our direction. Then he walks across the stage, where Dad lights his candle.

  “Hate and violence can’t take away memories and moments. They cannot take away love.” Maddox waves his hand across the stage. “It cannot bring darkness to what was already light.” He steps back. “A moment of silence for those whose light will never be darkened because they are still with us...every moment.”

  New Respect

  Logan

  I watch as Trucker looks at me blankly as he walks off stage. I’m proud of him for what he did with Jones, and he didn’t do it for the accolades. But the way he’s dealing with Keeka...un-fucking-acceptable.

  I nod to him, because straight up, that’s all I got for him, and he looks away.

  I feel London move her hand up my shirt while she pushes her other into my jeans pocket and look down at her.

  “It’s hard, right?”

  I nod.

  “I wish I could help.”

  I put my hand over hers and assure her, “You are.”

  She skates her hand across my abs then rests it on my back as she hugs me. Feels damn good to have her doing that right now. Feels even better that she’s gazing up at me with her blue eyes, looking at me with love and concern, easing the guilt I would normally allow to weigh me down.

  I put my lips on her head and kiss her. Then I glance over at Keeka, watching her looking at him with a pained expression.

  He deserves my apology, but he sure as hell should not get her fucking care.

  I reach over and pull her toward us, and London wraps her hand around hers. We stand just like this as Steel Total Destruction then Burning Souls performs for the community, the victims, for us.

  §

  We don’t go back to the apartment tonight; we head back with our families. Lisa’s, Jamie’s, and Christy’s families will be staying there with them.

  Every one of us is emotionally drained and being with family is necessary at this time. A day to reboot, to comfort each other by simply being there, and then it’s time to move forward, to live like they should be doing right now. We do it for them, and for us.

  Pulling into the driveway at London’s home, I look in the rearview mirror as Keeka’s eyes widen.

  “This is home,” London says, looking back.

  “Looks like a castle,” Keeka whispers.

  “Well, that would be Dad’s fault.” London laughs. “He got carried away with the whole princess thing.”

  “I guess so.” Keeka looks almost in shock.

  It’s a stone, two-story home, with two towers on each side, giving it the look of a castle. The first floor of the towers are Emma and Brody’s room, and on the opposite side is a guest suite. The floor above Emma and Brody’s is Lexington’s, and on the opposite side is London’s.

  The four-car garage is also stone and is attached to the home with an enclosed breezeway of sorts. There is a stone cottage a hundred yards from the home that Caroline and Henry, Emma’s parents, live in.

  As we pull up the paved driveway, motion censored lights automatically come on one by one, lighting the driveway. It’s extremely bright.

  “I guess you always know when someone is pulling in, huh?” Keeka laughs the nervous kind of laugh.

  London chuckles. “You have no idea.”

  She sounds nervous, too, and I’m assuming she’s embarrassed because of how lavish the Hines’ estate is compared to what Keeka is used to.

  “I bet your friends loved coming over here while you were growing up,” Keeka says, looking out the window as we get closer to the house.

  London sighs. “Not really.”

  “Why not?” Keeka ask.

  “Well...” London starts, gripping her lap belt and letting out a slow breath. “Never really got close to any of them, I suppose.”

  “Why? Did you just not want people around?”

  I look at London, suddenly feeling sorry for her.

  “People can be assholes,” I say, reaching over and squeezing London’s hand.

  She smiles at me then closes her eyes.

  “Judgmental and jealous bitches who think, because she appears to have everything, she’s a snob. She never was to them. Only me, huh?”

  London laughs and shakes her head. “You deserved it.”

  “I suppose I did,” I say, putting the vehicle in park before leaning over and hitting her buckle, releasing it.

  “You did.”

  She gets out of the vehicle before I can open the door for her. I let it slide, but also decide not to unbuckle her belt so I have a fighting chance next time.

  I laugh at myself as I get out, open the back door, grab the three bags of Leddie’s essentials, and unlatch her car seat.

  Looking at her sleeping, I think of what Trucker’s missing out on. However, I don’t get angry this time when I do so. Instead, I feel sorry for him.

  “I’m going to have ten of you,” I tell the sleeping child.

  I look up from her and into London’s shocked face.

  “Not now of course,” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen more.

  “I wouldn’t expect that you’d want ten.”

  Now she looks a little annoyed.

  “What I mean is—”

  Amusement flashes on her face now, and I shake my head.

  “I just want kids and—”

  “You should just stop now.” She rolls her eyes and smiles. “But I’m not
having ten, and I’m nowhere near ready.”

  “Of course you’re not. I mean—”

  “Come on, London,” Lexington calls after her. “It’s cold.”

  London giggles. “Come on.”

  I follow them into the house and watch London as she watches Keeka look around.

  “Come see my room,” Lexington says, grabbing Keeka’s hand.

  Keeka looks back at London, who laughs.

  “I’ll go with.” She looks at me. “You have her?”

  “Of course,” I say, setting Leddie’s car seat on the ground as they walk away.

  “Incoming,” Emma says with a laugh, and then I hear nails tapping on the floor.

  I know what’s coming, so I step in front of Leddie’s seat and prepare myself.

  When Birdy comes out first, I realize I’m making a face when I hear Brody chuckle from behind me.

  “That thing...” I pause and correct myself, “That cat has—”

  “Been alive forever?” Brody looks at the hairless cat the same way I assume I did.

  “The dogs, though...” I bend down and pet one of the two Saint Bernards. “Bailey, right?”

  “Shakespeare,” Brody corrects me.

  “Right.” I pet both Shakespeare and Bailey until they have calmed down enough.

  “They’ll sniff her but won’t hurt her.” Brody seems to be reading my mind. “The cat, however, I think you should get rid of just to be safe.”

  I hear Emma laugh and look away from the hairless thing.

  “Birdie won’t harm her either,” she assures me then looks at Brody. “After over ten years, you’re still trying to get someone to get rid of poor Birdie. He’s family.”

  “Look at our family. Hell, even our dogs are attractive. That thing...” He shudders. “Despicable.”

  Emma rolls her eyes at him then looks back at me. “He loves the cat.”

  “I certainly do not,” Brody tells her, to which she laughs.

  “Logan, would you like to put Leddie in here?” She pauses and corrects herself, “The room?”

  I nod as I remove my boots, shrug off my coat, push up my sleeves, and then squat down to unbuckle her.

  Brody grabs Leddie’s bags, and with Leddie sleeping against my shoulder, we follow Emma out of the foyer, through the family room, and into the guest room.