Had great view numbers on chapter 4. Let's get those reviews up! Also, the Lake I mentioned in chapter 3, Lake Lanier, is 100% real and 100% deadly. So far this year it's caught a drunk driver leaving a scene and a couple others. Lanier is a bad bitch, and she gonna get her bodies.
Also, in this chapter (or next chapter) we'll be referencing Gwinnett Place Mall. If you're a fan of the show Stranger Things, just think of the Starcourt Mall. The Starcourt Mall set is Gwinnett Place Mall. I know that because I worked on that show and that set. The Waldenbooks sign? Your boy made that thing light up. Anyway, I digress. In the late 90's it would've looked pretty much like it did in that show. Mall of Georgia had just opened and hadn't completely sapped the life from Gwinnett Place yet. Just some background info so you can see the story in your mind better.
Chapter 5: The Thrill of Victory
This particular part of John Cena's job never got any easier. For years, the town of Blue River and it's Sheriff's Department dealt with less than 5 murders a year. There were parts of spacious Gwinnett County that had much more frequent homicides, but the massive natural boundary formed by Lake Lanier seemed to curb most of the violent crime. Now, however, the already beleaguered agency was dealing with four homicides in a little over twenty-four hours.
This pair of slayings was particularly ugly. John hadn't actually seen anyone get their throat cut since he'd returned from Desert Storm almost a decade prior. It was a common method of political execution by the dictator in power there, but very rarely was it used to kill a stranger. Throat slashings tended to be more personal. More motivated by passion. In fact, John couldn't remember ever having seen a murder of this type in any of the case files he'd been perusing the last week or so.
"John!" A feminine voice broke his intense inner monologue.
"Michelle," he returned resolutely. Michelle McCool Calloway had long been his partner, before taking an extended break for maternity leave. She and her husband, Mark, had been trying for over a decade, and the announcement that she was expecting lifted the morale of the whole department. After a harrowing, high-risk pregnancy, Michelle had given birth to a bouncing, nine pound baby boy. She'd taken a few weeks extra from work to spend time with the new addition to her family, but her break was up and her return brought with it a tremendous sense of relief for Cena.
"Hey Michelle," he returned, extending his arms for a friendly embrace. With a broad smile, the statuesque blonde amiably hugged her co-worker.
"So much for an easy first day back, eh?" Michelle mused, taking in the crime scene.
"Right?" John replied flippantly, frustrated at the second set of homicides in such a short stretch of time.
"So what do we have here?" Michelle asked, trying to get back into the swing of her career after a long break.
"Oh, you know. Double homicide. Throat slashing. Looks like the perp was hiding in the backseat."
"Anything on the victims?" McCool inquired of her partner. Asking procedural questions was a good way for her to keep her mind off of how gruesome this murder was.
Without taking his eyes from whatever forensic evidence he was poking at on the ground, John recited the information like it was second nature. "Taya Valkyrie, nineteen. Sounds like she'd just quit her job down the block at Ryder's B&G, no priors, but she was a terrible driver apparently. License suspended for a laundry list of traffic citations." He sighed, standing up slowly. "And one James Ellsworth, twenty. Several prior arrests. Narcotics possession, possession with intent to distribute, one felony burglary, and a cornucopia of lesser charges."
"Sounds like your standard townie loser," Michelle surmised. John nodded his response.
"Yeah. He might've been graduating to 'creep,' though. State sex crimes office sent this over." He produced a Manila folder from atop the hood of his squad car. "Ongoing investigation had him involved with underage girls. He hadn't done anything illegal yet, but it sounds like it was just a matter of time."
McCool snickered. "Fucking lowlife. Any immediate links to the murders at the drive-in?"
Cena pondered this, then shook his head. "Eh. Both couples. Both girls blonde and… well-equipped." Michelle cackled at the attempted tact with which Cena was describing the young women. "Both in cars. But the other murders seemed planned. Cruel. These seem like a drug deal gone bad or something." He looked up at his returning partner. "We get the state arrest record back on the female vic yet?"
Michelle glanced around, before shrugging and reaching for the two way radio headset on her lapel. "Hey, dispatch, we get a return on that 'twelve eighty seven' for our female victim?"
After a moment of silence, a woman's voice replied. "That's a positive on that. We sent the dossier with your backup unit. It should be there momentarily."
"Copy that, thank you," McCool barked back politely.
John continued his loop around the vehicle. He stopped, his brow furrowing as he saw the crude symbol drawn by the attacker on the rear windshield.
"Michelle, you see this?"
McCool strained her eyes, but couldn't see what Cena was referring to from her vantage point. "No, what are you looking at?" She followed Cena's pointed ginger. "What's it say?"
John shook his head in annoyance. "I'm not sure it says anything. It's some kind of symbol, a calling card. This guy Ellsworth was a garden variety 'wannabe gangster,' maybe he ran afoul of some actual ones." Cena stretched out to his full height. "When the forensics team gets here, remind me to have them get polaroids of that. I have a friend on the anti-gang task force at Atlanta PD. If that's gang related, he'll have seen it before."
Michelle nodded, noting that the aforementioned forensics van was turning onto Main Street some three blocks down from them. John continued. "I don't think this has anything to do with anything, but if you can tastefully and discreetly get me Maryse Oullet's measurements, I'd like to rule out 'fetish killer.'"
The statuesque blonde laughed. "What a way to make a living." She briefly took in the aroma of fresh coffee emanating from Hennig's Perfect Pour around the way from their current location.
"I'm gonna go get a tall cup from Hennig's," Michelle called to her partner. "You want anything?"
John briefly mulled over the question, before reaching for his wallet and nodding, dislodging a twenty dollar bill and handing it to Michelle. "Gimme a double tall 'half caff' and a Danish if they have any."
McCool rolled her eyes. "Typical cop." Cena laughed loudly as he processed the exasperation in his new old partner's voice. She strode away, the pride of wearing the uniform causing an instant improvement in her posture. Shaking his head, Cena returned to his current task, smiling slightly as the Gwinnett County Sheriff's Mobile Forensic Unit raced up the street toward him to scour the crime scene for additional insight into who might be killing Blue River's young people…
…
Blue River High School was only a little less chaotic than the downtown area was becoming. By Second period, Alexa had heard from several people what had happened across the street from Ryder's Grill. And once again, it had shaken her to her very core. Lunch was louder than normal, both because of the latest gossip and because Zack Ryder's boisterous cousin Enzo Amore had captivated the attention of everyone around him. Alexa hadn't yet heard why it was that Enzo and his friend Colin had moved from Staten Island to Blue River, Georgia, but she assumed it was simply because they had a relative in the district they'd come to stay with.
As Alexa understood it, this was a fairly common practice in this area. The public schools around here were excellent, and up until very recently Blue River was considered one of the safest towns in America. What confused Alexa was why the two young men had failed to enroll in school until the second week of the semester. Before she could make any inquiries, however, another figure caught her eye.
"Who's that?" The tiny blonde asked Dana, who'd taken her now regular seat to the left of Alexa. The two girls, along with Bayley, who was perched on a hard plastic stool across from the pair of platinum headed young women, stared down toward the end of the table Alexa was indicating towards.
Dana's brow furrowed. "That's Nikki Cross. She's… strange."
Bayley nodded. "She didn't used to be. When we were in middle school she was normal. Popular, even. But something happened over last summer break and now she's...like that." The latina gestured toward the girl, who was sitting at the far end of the table occupied by Alexa's peer group. Her skin pale and hair stringy, it appeared to Alexa as though this young woman was actively trying to send out "go away" energy to everyone around her. Still, Alexa made a mental note to attempt to speak to Nikki before the week was over.
"Lexi," Dana began, her voice wrought with curiosity. "You wanna go to the mall with us after practice? I know you have cheer. We have softball-" she pointed at Bayley and herself, "but we need new swimsuits for 'lake day' and this might be the only night we're free."
Alexa's heart skipped a beat. "Lake Day" was clearly something that meant a lot to a select group of these high schoolers. Early in every school year, there was a "Teacher's In Service" planning day scheduled to give the school employees time for administrative work that inevitably piled up at the beginning of every year. Dean had approached her that morning, seeming as nervous as she'd ever seen him, and filled her in on the situation before inviting Alexa to join them on the leisure excursion on Dean's dad's double-decker party boat for the day. She'd smiled sweetly and replied that she would very much like to, but she needed to clear it with her folks.
"Yeah, Dean asked me to go with you guys," Alexa returned audibly. "I didn't have any bathing suits make the move with me, and I didn't spend any time outside this summer that wasn't mandatory. I guess I have to go get one, huh?"
Dana nodded. "It's so fun, Lexi! We all pack onto the boat and drink and dance and try not to run ashore or into any boat cops. Last year Roman and his cousins shot off fireworks from the deck."
Bayley snickered. "Yeah, that's how Jimmy ended up with one eyebrow until Christmas. He's lucky it grew back at all."
Alexa chuckled to herself. No matter where she ended up, it seemed that kids were the same everywhere; mischievous, lighthearted, fun-loving. She already knew what her Aunt Mickie would say about going; that Alexa needed more carefree hijinx in her life. She might not even care about the underage drinking, though her Uncle John surely would. But an event with this many people was something that the tiny blonde wasn't sure she was ready for yet. Unfortunately, before she could fully process the ramifications of going on the boat with twenty or so of her new friends, she realized that Bayley and Dana were still talking about her.
"...did he?" Bayley was waiting for the answer to a question Alexa hadn't heard. When in doubt, she always assumed the "he" in question was Dean, but she still missed the crucial section of Bayley's inquiry.
"Sorry, Bay," Alexa returned, "I missed the question."
Bayley grinned brightly. "It's no problem. I asked if Dean told you about Friday night yet?"
Alexa shook her head. "No, we didn't get to talk that long after chorus. We only talked about 'Boat day.'"
The raven-haired girl chuckled, picturing her step-brother's face as he conversed with Alexa. "Well, Friday is an away game for the football team, and after every away game we invite people to come to my house-" Bayley stopped, realizing that Alexa might need some clarification. "It's Dean's dad's house. My mom, my sisters and I all live there. Dean's supposed to be there primarily but he stays with his mom a lot." She stopped again, gesturing knowingly at Alexa. "You were there. You saw his mom's house."
Alexa made a face. "Yeah. Not my favorite. But the company was fantastic."
Dana snickered. "I have no idea why Dean spends so much time over there."
Bayley continued, determined to get her verbal invitation out. "Anyway. Yeah, mom orders pizza and we watch a movie and the girls sleep on one floor and the boys sleep on another floor. It's not as exciting as partying at Brock's after home games, but we still have fun."
Alexa nodded. "I'll have to make sure Aunt Mickie doesn't need me to watch the twins on Saturday morning, but if I'm free I'll be there."
Bayley's bright smile grew even wider. "Good." She sighed deeply, clearly satisfied with Alexa's answer. "I'm glad you're coming to the mall with us, too."
The trio of young women kept up their chatter, though Alexa was mostly content to listen to the other two fill her in on where and when she needed to meet them for that evening's excursion. In the back of Alexa's mind, however, the sad and hollow countenance of Nikki Cross remained. Something about the girl's demeanor made Alexa desperately want to befriend her. She resolved herself again that by the end of the week, she would make at least one attempt to speak to the pale young woman.
After another few minutes, the bell that signalled the end of their lunch period blared intrusively throughout Blue River High School. With a shrug, Alexa stood up from the table, made sure the non-disposable contents of her lunch bag were gathered, and began composing herself for the rest of her day.
….
It was four hours into the initial investigation of the double-homicide outside Ryder's Grill, and John Cena was already frustrated. He'd first believed maybe Zack Ryder was a jilted ex, hell-bent on some sort of revenge for being dumped. In just a few minutes of detecting, however, he'd learned that Ryder had actually dumped the erratic Valkyrie, and that he'd been in the restaurant's dish pit for the entire duration of the murders. The restaurant's day manager, one Bobby Eaton, informed John with much more detail than the deputy thought was necessary that a few years back Mrs. Ryder herself had caught two teenage servers in various states of undress in the back portion of the building, and as a result had placed security cameras all over the property. Zack Ryder, with inescapable video evidence, was washing plates when Taya was seen getting into James Ellsworth's vehicle, as well as for another hour after the window in which the crimes could've been committed ended.
There were some interesting videos being submitted to the Sheriff's Office for examination, however. There were two cameras above the entrance to the Blue River Savings and Trust, and though their field of vision was limited, the feed did capture a hooded figure slithering down the sidewalk, being careful to avoid the bathing streetlights up and down main street. While John couldn't make out any facial features or even the ethnicity of the potential killer, he could reasonably deduce some things about the assailant's height from the surrounding vehicles.
Just as he began writing additional notes on a well-worn yellow legal pad, his train of thought was interrupted by his newly-returned partner.
"Hey, John," Michelle began brightly. "Sheriff wants to see us in the bullpen."
Cena rolled his eyes. He was certain that Sheriff John Laurinaitis desired an update on the murder investigations before they'd even really gotten started. They were "dead-end" on Neidhart and Kidd, with no eyewitnesses or even a firm timeline on when the crime actually took place, and now they were staring straight in the face of a second difficult scenario. At this point, the possibility that the two sets of slayings were connected might have been the best scenario for the suddenly overworked Sheriff's Department. After pressing "pause" on the VCR, John sighed in frustration and sauntered into the large office area.
John Laurinaitis was not popular amongst his subordinates. The general consensus throughout the agency was that he'd ascended to the top spot through constant, unashamed, and prolific ass-kissing, and not any type of proficiency in law enforcement. His brother, James, was something of a legend in north Georgia for his long and distinguished career doling out justice, but little brother Johnny had taken over the Sheriff's job on an interim basis when James had been forced to retire due to health concerns, then won an election in which he ran unopposed. Now, however, Blue River was facing what many would've considered it's first actual "crime spree," and his personal deficit in crime solving was being laid bare on a daily basis.
"Uh, if I could get everyone's attention," the gravelly monotone of Laurinaitis echoed throughout the room. "For those of you who haven't heard, we had two more homicides late last evening. We are currently canvassing for eyewitnesses, but so far we've had very little luck with area surveillance video or finding anyone willing to come forward as a witness. For now, we are treating this as a separate and unrelated set of killings from the ones near the drive-in two nights ago." He stopped, his eyes conveying the most concern he'd ever expressed during his tenure as Sheriff. "These are now four confirmed dead young people in the span of two days and some change, and we still have the missing Oullette and Mizanin children. I don't need to tell any of you here how important it is that we start to gain some traction on these cases. The Mayor is threatening to take these cases from us and give them over to the GBI."
A loud groan rippled through the meeting area. It was the biggest insult a law enforcement officer could endure to have their casework taken from them and given to another agency. On top of that, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation wasn't exactly none for expedience or efficiency when it came to solving these cases.
"I don't want that either," Laurinaitis continued after a moment. "That's why we are throwing everything we have at this case. I want every officer who isn't working any other felonies to concentrate on this case. Deputies Cena and McCool will run point. If you need a job, see them."
The beleaguered Sheriff glanced over at the stunned Cena. "Congratulations, John, you're moving up to shift sergeant effective immediately."
This information was new to John Cena, who hadn't been given any sort of 'head's up' that Laurinaitis was going to saddle him with additional responsibility. In retrospect, however, Cena shouldn't have been surprised. Deputies Cena and McCool were two of the longest-tenured officers in Blue River, or Gwinnett County, and the young and expanding Sheriff's office needed steady, calm leadership at their level.
"Also," John Laurinaitis shouted over the rumbling staff room, "we have been allocated four recent graduates of the Gwinnett County Police Training Facility to come work on these cases for us. Two of them will be staying permanently as new hires, while the other two are on loan from GCPD." Laurinaitis gestured to the quartet of young-looking uniformed graduates to his left. "This is Tyler Breeze, Deonna Purrazzo, Shaul Guerrero and Jamie Noble."
As he introduced them, Laurinaitis gestured to the corresponding body while calling out their name. Cena immediately noticed how young the new Officers appeared to be, but at this point, he supposed the Sheriff's Department could use all the help it could get. His stream of consciousness was again rudely jarred by the Sheriff.
"Are there any questions?"
After a moment, the hand of Deputy Lance Storm shot up. Laurinaitis pointed to the flat-topped officer, who'd come to Blue River by way of Calgary, Alberta, Canada.
"Yeah, Sheriff, is this going to affect the way we provide security for the Fall Carnival?"
"No," Laurinaitis responded resolutely. "We will assign security details accordingly. For now, the Carnival goes on as scheduled. The Mayor's Office has been very adamant on this point. The belief is that if these attacks are connected, the perpetrator won't strike around such a large gathering. I am meeting with the organizers next week to determine the best deployment scheme for the Carnival while still maximizing our coordination between units and minimizing our response time."
"I'm pretty sure that's the speech the Police Chief gave in the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie," Cena mused to himself. He couldn't resist rolling his eyes at his superior. He genuinely appreciated Laurinaitis coming in and attempting to take the initiative, but it seemed to John Cena that the best thing Laurinaitis could do was stay the hell out of the way.
"Anything else?" Laurinaitis inquired. Finding that there were no further questions, the Sheriff of Blue River dismissed his Department, informing them as they walked away to do their duties that the new rookie officers would be getting assigned to partner with veteran deputies, and that their success in this case would be determined by their own hard work. As Deputy Cena meandered toward the coffee machine, a quiet, yet concerningly constant voice in the back of his head let him know that the worst in this case was yet to come.
…...
With everything else going on in her life, Alexa Bliss figured she'd REALLY needed this trip to Gwinnett Place Mall. One of her favorite ways to spend an afternoon with her mom had been what her father had called "retail therapy," and the doe-eyed blonde smiled contentedly at the memory of the cherished time with her family.
Those trips were an island of tranquility next to what was currently transpiring. Bayley was calm enough, to be sure, but it seemed as though Dana Brooke and Charlotte Flair had no civility remaining once they'd crossed through the doors of the huge complex.
It was a beautiful establishment. A large, multi-storied fountain in the food court marked the splendor of a monument to capitalism teeming with foot traffic. Alexa's first stop was to the Chick Fil A in the food court. She loved lemonade, and they offered a delicious diet version that quenched the sweet tooth she nursed constantly. She continued on with her group of friends to one of several boutiques that carried swimwear. It only took Alexa about fifteen minutes to choose the appropriate bathing suit for their outing.
She'd planned on wearing a modest bikini top with jean shorts. She'd never been one to show her body off, both because of her conservative upbringing and her body issues. But all that changed when she tried on a navy blue two piece with small white polka dots. The color brought out the blue in her eyes, and accentuated the red highlights in her hair. Dana and Charlotte both raved about how perfect the suit was when Alexa modelled it for them in the fitting room area, and even Bayley gave a smiling shrug and nod of approval.
"You look super hot, Lexi," Dana enthused.
Alexa tried not to turn as bright red as the streaks kissing her blonde mane. "You think?"
Charlotte nodded. "Hell yes. Dean will be drooling."
Alexa chuckled and shook her head. "That's not why I like it… but it's good to know," she admitted, the grin growing wide on her glowing countenance.
"You're a total babe," Dana fired back. "Seriously."
Alexa fought off self-consciousness as hard as she could while maintaining composure. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of her new friends.
"Guys, seriously, it's not that big a deal. It's just a bathing suit."
Bayley snickered. "Y'all leave Alexa alone. She looks fantastic, but it's not worth embarrassing her over. She doesn't know us well enough for you guys to talk about her body like that."
Inwardly, relief flooded over Alexa. Charlotte and Dana meant well, but it hadn't been that long ago that the tiny blonde had been in treatment for an eating disorder brought about by low body image. It was not easy for her to accept compliments, even when they were meant as harmlessly as Dana and Charlotte meant them.
"It's okay, Bayley," Alexa lied. "I know they weren't trying to make me feel weird or anything." She sighed, matter of factly, before instantly deciding to give the trio of young women a glimpse into her past. "I've had a lot of… problems with self-esteem. I battled anorexia pretty hard when I was in Ohio and I'm not good at hearing about how people think I'm 'hot' or whatever. It's not as simple as just smiling and saying 'thank you.'"
Dana nodded in understanding. "I totally get it. I did the 'binge and purge' thing in Middle School, and into my Freshman year. I had to get help. Fucking Sasha called me 'fat' after a softball game in front of everyone and it started this whole chain."
Charlotte shook her head and scoffed in disbelief. "I remember that. That was right after she told me I was so skinny I'd better grow some boobs before the city tried to hang power lines from me."
"That bitch," Dana immediately countered. "I fucking hate her."
"Guys, we're scaring Alexa," Bayley reminded the other two girls in their vicinity.
Dana held up a hand in anger. "She needs to know who she's dealing with." She turned from Bayley and focused on Alexa, their matching blue eyes honing in. "Do not let Sasha get in your head. She has this… Jedi-like ability to fuck with your mind. One minute you'll be minding your own business and then she'll make a comment about how you're wearing your hair and the next thing you know you'll be skipping school to go get a haircut."
Alexa gave a nod in the affirmative. "Copy that. I've seen her around school with those two plastic blonde girls. What were their names again?"
Charlotte instantly knew the duo Alexa was referring to. "Liv Morgan and Mandy Rose. They're all right… at least they were until Sasha got her hooks in them."
"That's what Dean said," Alexa concurred.
"Oooh," Dana cooed playfully at the mention of Alexa's would-be paramour. "What else did Dean say?"
Alexa smiled, once again fighting off embarrassment. "He said he'd IM me later and to have fun," she responded, her tone nearly as whimsical as Dana's.
The huddle of women shared another laugh, before agreeing that Alexa had to buy the two piece she'd tried on. She did, and after waiting for Dana to pay for her purchase, a silver suit much more audacious than the one Alexa had chosen, the quartet made their way out of the shop and back into the madness…
…..
For Dean Ambrose, the week went by in a blur of classes and football practice and stolen moments with his love interest. His favorite of that particular week (so far) was the affectionate kiss to the cheek Alexa had given him after Wednesday's practice when the football team and cheerleading squad were both heading for their vehicles. She'd laced her arms around his neck, pressed her face into his cheek, and daintily pursed her lips just below his cheekbone. Dean also thought he heard the slightest moan of contentment behind her closed mouth.
"Is it too soon to ask her to Homecoming?" He'd wondered aloud on the drive home. His "drive home" was a bit longer this week, as he was staying at the home of his father, stepmother, three stepsisters, and various small children.
Maricel Martinez Ambrose, Bayley's biological mom and the woman Dean's dad married when Dean was in Elementary school, had two other daughters. Mercedes was the oldest, though Dean could never remember if she was twenty seven or twenty eight. Mercedes had had a rough go of it in her late teens and early twenties, having moved to the crime hotbed of Southwest Atlanta, before a drug deal gone bad landed her in jail for a year. To her credit, she'd worked very hard with her parole officer, family, and local church program to hold down a job tending and stocking bar at the lakeside pub near Dean's dad's house.
Mercedes also had two small children of her own. She'd given birth to the youngest in jail, and often cited them as the reason she was trying so desperately to keep on the "straight and narrow" path. It'd been a big day for Mercedes when she'd won back primary custody, and the three of them lived in the basement apartment in the Ambrose/Martinez luxury home.
Bayley's other sister was a different story altogether. Shelly was twenty two and a notorious free spirit. At least, "free spirit" would be the polite term for Shelly's behavior. She'd been sixteen when her mother married Dean's dad, and of all the children involved, Shelly had been the one whose behavior was most affected. As a result, she had a reputation around Blue River as "loose" or "easy." Truth be told, she wasn't really any more promiscuous than the average girl her age. She'd just become comfortable with the residents of the conservative Southern town she lived in judging her based on her clothes and appearance. Namely, her revealing outfits and ever-present heavy makeup.
There were also the two kids Dean's dad and Maricel had produced together. They were a totally different story. Dean adored his seven year old half-brother, Dennis, and his five year old half-sister Gabriella. As much as he was irritated with parts of his living situation at his father's home, every moment he spent with the pair of little ones, as well as his step-niece and nephew, was truly special. For all the types of people in the world Dean Ambrose didn't like, he had a way with children that came in very handy at his dad's house.
Dean contemplated his family situation as he drove home. For once, he wasn't giving Bayley a ride, though he never minded, and so he simply let the gentle streets of his quaint hometown cradle him home, while "Hold My Hand" by HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH rang out pleasantly through the speakers of his vehicle.
Now Thursday night, the downtown area was dark and nearly deserted, to the point where Dean felt a little creeped out by the absence of the usual hustle and bustle through the shops and restaurants that made up Blue River's picturesque Main Street. Even Ryder's Grill, normally a hub for the high school population, had no signs of patronage anywhere. Dean figured the murders had chased off some of the district's business, but it was also always an early night the day before an away game. So many of Blue River's citizens would caravan to wherever the Raiders were playing that they needed to get rested up the night before, leading to closed businesses and locked doors.
The rest of Dean's drive seemed to drag on, though he knew every inch of it like the back of his hand. Finally, after a mile-long traverse down a narrow, winding side road, he pulled up to the manned gate that fronted his father's exclusive subdivision. Waving and flashing a laminated placard hanging from his rearview mirror, Dean barely slowed as the large wrought-iron gate swung open in front of his SUV. Coasting down another narrow street, Ambrose pulled to a complete stop for the second time in less than three hundred yards. This time he rolled down his window, speaking to an older man, thick glasses perched atop his nose, clad in a light blue collared shirt and navy tie.
"Hey Stan," Dean half-spat, though his tone was amiable.
"Hey there Dean," Stan Hansen returned. "Practice go okay?"
Ambrose managed a nod and a smile, though he was thoroughly exhausted. "Yeah. Williams is gonna be tough, but I think we got 'em."
Hansen snickered and shook his head. "That quarterback they got. Freeman?"
"Friedman," Dean corrected softly.
"Yeah, Friedman. I heard he's a real pain in the ass."
Dean grinned. "I'm looking forward to introducing myself."
"I bet you are, kid. If I can get someone from the company to come over here and cover me I'm gonna make the drive."
"Well, if no one's here, do we even need guarding?" Dean asked wryly, causing a chuckle from their longtime security official.
With that, Stan waved off his charge, hitting the button to open the gate to Dean's dad's home and bidding Dean goodnight.
…...
Walking into Casa de Ambrose was always something of an adventure. Since his eighth birthday, Dean had seen his family double in size, then exceed even that with the birth of his dad and Maricel's two children together.
"Deeeean," the young man heard a female voice call coyly from the next room over.
Rolling his eyes and sighing as deeply as he could without that voice's owner hearing, Dean meandered into the kitchen, where his admittedly attractive step-sister seemed to be up to no good.
"You don't wanna talk to me? I thought we were family," Shelly teased.
"We are family," Ambrose returned, not willing to flirt with his family member by marriage.
"Well, not FAMILY family," Shelly intimated, drawing closer to her stepbrother. This behavior was nothing new for her. She seemed to relish making Dean uncomfortable, and had been engaging in this behavior for as long as they'd been living in the same house. Dean was a good sport at first, but as he grew older he could no longer tell if her advances were her idea of a joke or if she now considered Dean a suitable match. Either way, Ambrose was too tired to play this game.
"Shelly, give it a rest. I'm tired and you're trying too hard." Dean heard Bayley suppress a loud laugh as she sat at the table doing her homework. She'd been at school late preparing with the marching band, and now she was perched on one of the wooden dining room chairs, half-eaten plate shoved to one side and a large textbook open in front of her.
"Bay said we get to meet your new lady friend tomorrow night. I need to check out my competition."
Dean rolled his eyes. Shelly's tone this last time made him a hundred percent sure she was joking, but it still wasn't funny when Dean was dog tired from a full day of school and practice.
"Sweet shades of sheep shit, please don't embarrass me tomorrow night, Shel. I really like this one and I don't need her getting run off by your weirdness."
Shelly scoffed, pretending to be deeply offended. "Me? Weird? Perish the thought, cutie. I just want to make sure she's good enough for my baby step-brother."
"She's way too good for him, Shel," Bayley interjected, needling her step-brother and friend with gentle teasing.
"Oh, so it's like that?" Shelly fired back, her mock indignation growing by the second.
"Y'all please be cool," Dean pleaded, the good nature disappearing from his voice. Bayley pondered this a moment, leaning over to take another bite of her dinner.
"Well, we don't want to make Lexi feel unwelcome or awkward. So we should probably be nice." She winked at Shelly. "She's my friend, and she's new at school, so we need to make her feel right at home."
Shelly considered this a moment, before shrugging and nodding congenially. "Why didn't you say she was your friend? You know I'd do anything for you, hermana. You say the word and I'll stay out of everyone's hair tomorrow night."
"Thank you!" Dean exclaimed, his exasperation now plain to hear in his gravelly voice. He turned on his heel, intending to trudge up the stairs to a shower and his welcoming bed, but Bayley's voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
"I hung out with Alexa tonight."
Dean tilted his head to one side. "I thought you had marching band practice."
Bayley shook her head in the negative. "No, I don't always go on Thursdays, because they're practicing formations and I don't march. I just stand on that platform and play my solo. I'm not even technically in marching band," she intimated.
"Well, what'd Alexa have to say?" Dean inquired, trying not to appear too anxious.
Bayley smiled, the obnoxious tight-lipped variety one only employs when they know something the other person doesn't. "Oh, nothing. Just how excited she was for 'boat day.' We helped her pick out a swimsuit, too."
Now Dean's interest really was piqued. He'd been assuming Bayley was just screwing with him, as her sister had been, but any genuine sign from Alexa that she was as into him as he was into her would be appreciated, even if it meant looking less than cool in front of his co-habitants.
Bayley gave a big, exaggerated shrug. "I think she really wants to look nice for you. I know I wouldn't spend that much on a bikini if I didn't care who saw me in it."
"Me either," Shelly chimed in.
Bayley rolled her eyes. "Shelly, you're my sister and I love you, but you want everyone to see you when you wear bikinis." She paused to consider this. "Or your t-shirts you cut all up so everyone can see your boobs. Or the goth stuff you wear when you go out. Pretty much everything you own you have because it shows the good parts of your body."
Shelly gasped, though she wasn't at all shocked at this allegation. It was true. Whether at home, the technical college she attended part time, or at Windham's, where she worked some nights and weekends, Shelly's look was carefully cultivated to tantalize men, which helped tips at the restaurant and her social life at school.
"It's true," Shelly finally acquiesced, a knowing smirk forming. "This town needs a little more excitement. And I guess if no one else is willing to give it to them, I will."
Dean tilted his head in bewilderment at his step-sister. "Shel, like four people have been murdered since Sunday. No one knows where the greatest football player to ever play at our school or his French-Canadian model girlfriend is. The last thing this town needs is more excitement."
Shelly scoffed. "Too damn bad. No one's gonna keep me from being me."
With that, she slinked out of the kitchen that seemed to serve as the family hub. Dean watched her go, an incredulous look still on his face, and turned his eyes back to Bayley, who shrugged and did her best to turn her concentration back to her homework.
….
The fire raged on. Kissing the very edge of the treetops with its massive flickering orange flame, Alexa felt its oppressive heat kiss her skin. The tiny blonde had no idea where she was. Only that this time she wasn't watching her house burning or hearing the disembodied voices of her family call to her from the great beyond. This time, she heard no less than three dozen voices undertaking an ominous chant, as though they were summoning a spirit. Everyone around Alexa seemed desperate for this apparition to reveal itself, though she had no idea as to the identity of said wraith. The rhythmic yelling grew louder and louder, the shrouded figures from which the chanting was emanating grew taller and taller to either side of her. The fire in front of her grew larger and larger, drawing closer to her and hotter on her face.
"No. No!" She cried out, though her voice was so quiet it could've been imperceptible. She felt the hands of those figures around her pushing her slowly but firmly toward the open flame.
"NOOOOOOOOO!" She screamed out into the black oblivion around her.
The malaised pixie shot up into a seated position in bed. Once again soaked with sweat, a feeling of dread cemented itself into the pit of her stomach. She'd had another nightmare, though not the one she usually had. There was no burning house. No recurring synopsis of how she'd lost her entire family in a single night. This was new, yet it felt just as real as the other dreams. She gave herself a once over before peering over at her digital clock radio. It was only about fifteen minutes before she needed to wake up to make it to school early enough to have a quick breakfast with her team, and so she decided to take that time to clean up and regain her composure.
Quick showers weren't the norm for the well-built Junior. Normally, she enjoyed the solitude and the effect the hot water seemed to have on her perpetually sore muscles. This morning, however, she just wanted to scrub the perspiration and stress from her perfect skin. With no time to dry her hair, Alexa took the ninety seconds required to toss a hair straightener into her bag. It was Coach Varon's stated intention to get the cheer squad to Williams High with at least two hours to spare, and that would give her plenty of time to make sure her blonde locks were in order before kickoff.
The rest of her morning hygienic and beauty needs met, Bliss bounded up the stairs, stopping briefly to make sure Macy "did her business" outside before she left the faithful puppy at the house for the long day. John and Mickie were both really good sports about making sure the canine was well taken care of when they were home, as Macy felt more and more like the family pet with each passing day, but Alexa didn't feel right just not doing anything for her most loving companion. The dog, hungry and curious, simply followed her up the wooden staircase to the kitchen.
The rest of the family was already encamped around the circular table that served as "home base" for the Cena clan. Brynlee was making quick work of her scrambled eggs, and the twins picked at banana slices with their fingers while plopped securely in their high chairs.
"Morning, gorgeous," Mickie chirped from in front of the stove. "You want just whites or the whole egg?"
"Whole egg please, Aunt Mickie. Over easy."
Mickie James turned to her niece with an upturned eyebrow at this unusual request. Alexa was still ingesting very plain food, as far as Mickie knew, and so the unfamiliar order drew the older woman's curiosity.
"Fried eggs? Who are you?"
Alexa giggled, flashing a bright grin at her mom's sister. "I'm hungry and I think they're feeding us fast food biscuits at team meeting. I trust you to keep me slightly healthier than Coach V."
Mickie nodded, before picking up a plastic sliver from beside the range top. "You want turkey bacon? I know you don't eat much pork…"
Alexa nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Aunt Mickie, I do."
Mickie sang softly to herself as she aptly maneuvered around the small cooking surface, causing Alexa to smile brightly as she watched her guardian. Before she could slip off into a stream of consciousness, however, a persistent thought made itself known.
"Aunt Mickie, did you think about what I asked you?"
Mickie turned, clearly failing to recall what Alexa was talking about.
"About whether or not it was okay if I went to Dean and Bayley's to sleep over after the game?"
Alexa could tell Mickie wasn't a hundred percent sold on the merits of Alexa sleeping anywhere but their home. She'd taken her written vow to become Alexa's guardian extremely seriously, and she didn't know how her late sister Monica would handle a situation like this. Still, John and she had decided when Alexa first arrived that they wanted her to have as normal an experience as possible.
"That's fine, Lexi. I know the Ambroses. They're really nice people and they have security guards at their house."
"Really?" Alexa asked incredulously.
Mickie nodded without missing a beat. "Yeah. JD, that's Dean's dad," she continued, all the while continuing to prepare Alexa's sustenance, "he's like some real big shot investment banker. They were pretty poor when Dean was a kid, but he figured out some stock was gonna hit big before anyone else and bought it cheap. He made several million dollars in one day, then turned that money into tens of millions more investing in… I dunno," Mickie mused, "like, computer stuff. Now they're the richest family in town. Huge house up on the lake, coolest boat I've ever seen." She turned back toward her niece as she pulled the large frying pan from a hot burner to one that was in the "off" setting, "they have box seats to the Braves and all kinds of other fancy stuff."
Alexa shook her head in disbelief. She didn't know whether or not to be hurt that Dean hadn't told her about any of this.
"Holy cow, Aunt Mickie, I had no idea."
Mickie shrugged. "Yeah, they don't talk about it a lot. And, for what it's worth, they donate a lot of money to the school, the local hospital, and JD personally oversaw six new parks getting opened around here not long before you got here."
For some reason Alexa couldn't explain, it made her swell with pride to hear what a good family Dean came from. It was a wonderful reflection on him that he came from such good stock, and Alexa knew Mickie wasn't easy to impress.
"Just be aware of his stepsisters. Bayley is sweet and wonderful, but Mercedes is terrifying and Shelly is… well, not clinically insane, because she's never been diagnosed, but she isn't right."
Alexa nodded. "Noted." Her grin grew more prevalent as Mickie set a well-used ceramic plate in front of her. As her aunt turned her attention to her twin toddlers, Alexa ate with a gusto befitting a growing adolescent. As Bliss finished her breakfast, Mickie gasped in recollection, causing the diminutive pixie to stop dead in her tracks.
"Sorry, Lex, I know you're in a hurry, but I have really good news."
"What's that?" Alexa asked, growing anxious over departing on time.
"So, every year my band plays the last Saturday of the Harvest Festival."
"The James Gang?" Alexa asked, smirking affably.
"Yep. And this year they're letting me pick our opening act. I want you and your friends to play. The ones I heard you played with last week."
"Mickie, we aren't a band. They're just my friends who let me play with them last week."
Mickie shrugged, not considering any outcome but her chosen one. "It'll be fine. Dean'll play because he's completely smitten with you. I've seen him look at you, and he is. Bayley will play because Dean is. The big Samoan and Zack. They'll all play if you ask them. Just do not, under any circumstances, let them keep their band name."
Alexa rolled her eyes. "Mickie, they aren't my band. Thank you for asking me to open for you, but I don't have a band."
"You do," Mickie insisted. "They just don't know they're your band yet. Dean can sing some songs. He's talented. That Bayley is really gifted, too."
Alexa tried not to let her annoyance get the better of her. "I have to go, Aunt Mickie. But I'll talk to them, I promise." She reached down to grab her school bag and the small duffel she'd packed for the after-party at Dean and Bayley's. "Have a good day. Love you."
"Love you too," Mickie called brightly.
As Alexa climbed into her car and backed out of the cracked driveway, she couldn't help but begin putting a set list together in her head. "It would be really fun," she admitted to herself. Seh loved performing. And, she reminded herself, any reason to spend time with Dean was a good one.
…
The bus ride to Amos E. Williams High School felt like the drive to Baltimore from North Atlanta Dean Ambrose had once made with his mother. It was less than twenty miles from one school to the other, but the caravan of buses meandered so slowly that the restless nature of the high schoolers occupying the linoleum seats prompted many of them to rock back and forth or otherwise fidget.
Dean was on the defensive starters bus. There were six school buses in total, three offense and three defense, but only the two buses for starting players were populated in such a way that every young man got his own bench seat, allowing them to stretch out and relax.
Ambrose had a ton on his mind. Not the least of which were the two offensive Tackles AEW High were planning on deploying that night. Luke Harper and Erick Rowan, two monstrous Seniors, were widely known as "road graders," which meant in layman's terms that they were the best run blockers around. The local paper had taken to calling them "the Bludgeon Brothers" due to their relentless nature.
Dean glanced over at Brock Lesnar, who had his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. Brock had passed his math test. Whether or not his passing grade was earned or fudged due to his prodigious knack for rendering opposing quarterbacks into paraplegics was anyone's guess. But all the gargantuan defensive Tackle seemed to want to do was bob his head lightly in time with whatever was blaring directly into his aural canals.
Titus O'Neil appeared to be reading. One seat up from him, Keith Lee was fast asleep, his massive back rested squarely against the outer wall. His seat's window was all the way down, and the resulting breeze seemed to cool the entire vehicle.
Right next to Dean was Roman Reigns. Roman seemed to spend most of his waking life in this kind of intense state of being, constantly on the defensive so as not to be surprised. Today was no different. He'd talked briefly to Dean about band rehearsal that Sunday afternoon, but other than that, and the brief smile he'd produced when Dean asked if he and Zelina were coming to the Ambrose house together after the game, he remained almost eerily silent.
Seth Rollins, however, was a veritable chatterbox. Not in any sort of entertaining way. Seth had to audibly review his defensive assignments as he'd learned them during the week if he were to have any chance of retaining them. Newcomer Enzo Amore, who'd quickly earned his stripes with his utterly fearless nature during practice, listened intently to Rollins, knowing many of their tasks coincided. The Raiders were deploying a "4-2-5" defense this week, which meant that they'd be taking a stronger player off the field and replacing him with a faster one. Enzo was that faster player. It was highly unusual for coaches to start a new team member so soon, but with Christian Cage now playing Quarterback, they needed Amore to play and play well right away.
That wasn't what Dean Ambrose was really thinking about. What currently weighed heaviest on his mind was his unacceptably high infatuation level with Alexa Bliss. All week, when he should've been doing schoolwork, working on his guitar skills or even getting in extra training for that week's football game, he could only see the golden-haired pixie in his mind's eye. There wasn't really any excuse for it.
"Yo Brock!" Jimmy Uso called from somewhere behind Dean. After a second, the huge boy slid his headphones down to his neck and raised his brow.
"What?" Lesnar returned, annoyed at the interruption.
"What you listenin' to?" Jimmy inquired brashly.
"Kid motherfuckin' Rock!" Brock spat out defiantly, as though he were the coolest man in the world. There was a still silence for just a moment as Jimmy and Jey Uso digested this information. After another beat, they both burst out in mocking laughter at their teammate's abhorrent taste in music.
"That's the cracker-est cracker shit of all time!" Jey retorted, taking up his brother's cause. "The fuck you average twelve tackles a game listening to that bullshit?"
Brock snickered at the assertion, before extending a middle finger toward the Uso brothers, who laughed in response. As the ambient noise on the bus reached more normal levels, Dean smiled. A relaxed, content smile, before closing his eyes and trying to get some rest before that night's game.
….
The Friday night atmosphere at Williams High was exactly what came to one's mind when the words "high school football" were used in that part of Georgia. Loud, persistent marching bands. Cheerleaders with bright smiles and crisp routines. Proud friends, family, and students occupying the stands. Dean Ambrose didn't often take the chance to soak all that in. Ordinarily, by opening kickoff, we'd worked himself into such a tumult of surging emotion and brimming aggression that there was no acknowledging anything but bestowing violence upon anyone who dared get close.
That wasn't the case tonight. For the first time that Dean could remember, Blue River elected to receive the opening kickoff. There was a simple reason for this; A. High's high-powered, fast paced offense was a daunting matchup for the well-coached but not especially fleet-footed defense. Blue River's coaches chose to remedy that issue by having their team's offense on the field first.
Brian Cage and Michael Wardlow, the prize pair of defensive tackles deployed by Williams High, had their own ideas as to the success of Blue River's offense. Akam and Rezar Ellering, the adopted sons of longtime Blue River resident Paul Ellering and starting guards, were big, fast, and strong, but they were young, and Defensive Coordinator Dustin Rhodes used multiple and confusing alignments to confound the Raider Offensive Line, leading to a disturbing lack of success early in the game.
By halftime, it was abundantly clear that the Blue River Raiders were in for a real fight. Trailing twenty four to nine, with only three field goals to attest to their efforts, Coach Arn Anderson was beside himself with anger. His team had played scared, sloppy, and all in all a very uninspired first half. After a halftime speech in which the volume and aggression in his voice was enough to metaphorically peel paint from the walls, the visiting Raiders hit the field re-energized and ready to make a statement.
It didn't take long. On the first possession of the second half for the A. E. Williams Jaguars, their Quarterback, a Senior by the name of Maxwell Jacob Friedman, threw a bullet pass in the direction of Isiah Cassidy. Before the young man could bring the ball in, Enzo Amore tipped the pigskin in the air, allowing Dean to run under the ball, catch it, and take off in the direction of the opposite end zone for what is commonly known as a "pick six."
The touchdown meant Blue River would be kicking off to AEW. Their offense, which literally could not be stopped just a few minutes previous, now sputtered like a car with a dying alternator. Friedman threw incompletions on second and third down, forcing the Jaguars to punt and giving the Raiders really good field position.
Whatever issues the team was suffering from in the first half, to Alexa Bliss' untrained eye, they appeared to be fixed in the third period. The Dean Ambrose touchdown had painted a permanent grin on the gorgeous blonde's face. She allowed herself her first moment of abject, unchecked elation in several months, even jumping up and down and clapping when Dean crossed the goal line and the marching band began playing the school fight song, as they did after all touchdowns by Blue River.
"Aww, my little Lexi has a crush!" AJ Lee exclaimed, watching with joy at her friend seeming so joyful.
"Please. I'm excited for the touchdown!" Alexa retorted gamely, though they both knew that wasn't entirely true. She was excited that her new allegiant team was inching closer to a victory, but there was no denying that she felt an extra spark of joy from the fact that it was Dean Ambrose that scored the last points for Blue River.
Zelina Vega, the third of four tiny "flyers" on Blue River's cheerleading squad, nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I told Roman I'd cheer extra loud for him. I hope he can hear me!"
AJ snickered, though she gave an understanding nod of the head. "Yeah, at least neither of you are dating offensive linemen like Baron. They never score points, so it's hard to get excited about much ever."
Alexa giggled. "Yeah, I could see that." Changing the subject as Blue River kicked off, she glanced over at Zelina.
"Are you going to Dean's after this?" She inquired of the miniscule Latina.
Vega shrugged. "I mean yeah, probably. Roman invited me and I don't have anything else to do."
AJ Lee smiled brightly. "Alexa, I know you can't wait to sleep under the same roof as-" She cut off as the visiting crowd let out another huge cheer. Part of Blue River's new defensive strategy was sending "blitzers" from all sides, and Enzo Amore found himself blistering the AEW quarterback on third down. As obnoxious as he could be, Dean had to admit that the undersized lunatic knew his way around a football field, and was not afraid to punish opposing players.
The Blue River defense did its job, forcing a punt from the suddenly inept A.E. Williams offense, while Dean found a seat on the bench as close to the cheer squad as he could manage. As the dozen or so uniformed girls began their chanting and choreographed movements, Dean glanced over his shoulder to watch his potential love interest perform.
"Bro," Roman grumbled, grabbing a seat on the aluminum bench, "don't lose focus. We're still fucking losing."
"I'm focused, dude, damn," Dean retorted, annoyed at the assertion that he wasn't completely dialed in.
"You're focused on that juicy little blonde shaking her ass." Roman raised his hands as Dean turned to admonish the big Samoan. "It's cool. I'm watching the latin version. It's like I hit the 'SAP' button on the best remote ever."
Dean allowed one huge laugh, before remembering where he was. As he was about to reply, a giant cheer went up from the visiting team's stands. Christian Cage had eluded the Williams pass rush and connected with Colin Cassady for a huge gaining play. With the Raiders now setting up inside the opposing team's "red zone," it wouldn't be long before Dean and Roman retook the field with their defensive compatriots.
"Y'all kiss yet?" Roman inquired, as quietly as could be expected. Dean shrugged, genuinely perplexed as to how to answer.
"I mean, she's kissed me a few times, but we haven't really kissed. Like, kissed kissed."
"You better hurry that shit along, bro," Roman teased. "I already made out with Zelina like five times."
Dean shook his head. "That's because Zelina has wanted to sit on your junk for like two years. I'm starting from scratch here."
Roman laughed. Just then, another cheer rose from the same side of the stadium, as Apollo Crews scored a touchdown, making the score 24-23 in favor of AE Williams. An extra point try tied the game at 24, causing Dean and Roman to rise to their feet.
"Well," Roman continued, beginning to conclude his thoughts, "you better figure some shit out. I think you got 'til the end of the weekend before you get 'friend-zoned.'"
Dean snickered defiantly. "I'm on top of it." Both boys paused to watch the Blood River kickoff sail through the end zone. "Plus," Dean added, sly half grin on his face, "it's a long weekend."
Roman let out one big "HA" as they ran out onto the field together, joining Brock Lesnar and the rest of their teammates.
…..
The change in momentum continued. The Blue River defense continued their angry play, and the offense continued to click, with Christian Cage throwing for and running for a total of three touchdowns, and Blue River began to cruise to a second win. AE Williams added one more score late; a throw from backup Quarterback Jack Perry to Marc Quenn, but by then the die had been cast. Blue River seemed content to let the clock out, and the Raider faithful cheered loudly for their boys.
From his position on the field, Dean could see his dad, step-mom, his two older step sisters and Mercedes' kids, and their longtime private security agent Stan Hansen.
"I guess he got someone to cover his shift," Ambrose mused to himself.
Alexa wasn't without her support system, either. Her aunt had been unable to make the sizable drive from the hair salon she worked most Fridsys all the way out to AE Williams, but her Uncle John had. He was leaning against the chain link fence that surrounded the field area, from the goal line around the end zone. He smiled and nodded at his niece, before giving her a thumbs up and signalling that he was leaving. Having been driven by the cheer bus, Alexa wasn't worried about a ride where she was going. She did think it was sweet that even though John wasn't biologically related to her at all, he was doing his best to be a father to the orphaned Bliss.
Coach Anderson gave a rousing postgame speech. Something about tenacity and coming back from way behind. Neither Dean nor Alexa heard a word. Instead, the tiny blonde spent the time subtly moving closer to the exhausted Ambrose. She'd only had just enough time to sidle up to the linebacker when Anderson dispersed the crowd.
Dean felt a tiny hand grip him around the wrist.
"Hey, great game," she mused quietly, trying her best not to sound as anxious as she felt.
"Thanks. You coming to the house?"
Alexa nodded, still unable to make eye contact with Dean. "Yeah. I'll be there. Can you give me a ride from school to your house?"
Dean grinned, playfully, before nodding in the affirmative. "Sure. I'm looking forward to it."
"Me too," Alexa lilted, finally glancing up at her crush.
"Cool. I guess wait for me by my truck when you get done. You'll probably get cleaned up before me, since there's like eighty of us that need to shower and like sixteen of you."
Alexa laughed. "Yeah. One of the advantages of being small on a small team."
The pair walked off the field together, slowly, making awkward small talk in an effort to avoid acknowledging the deepening affections growing between them.
…
The air was cooling earlier this week. That was Alexa's first thought as she headed out the gym doors and into the student parking lot.
She'd made a concerted effort to dress down. As far as Alexa knew, this event was simply lounging and relaxing for a bit before turning on a movie and falling asleep. She planned her outfit accordingly, and strode out down the long staircase and into the large pavement plain that accommodated the student's vehicles. At first, there were dozens and dozens of athletes, band members, and cheerleaders milling about, mingling amiably as they wrangled their rides, one, two, and up to six at a time. A Lexus very near to where Alexa currently stood was blasting DMX's "Rough Riders Anthem" across the lot and into the night. As she briskly gaited to Dean's car, however, Alexa couldn't help but feel like someone was watching her.
"Why did Dean have to park so far away?" She wondered frantically as she noticed motion from the corner of her eye. As Alexa had learned from unarmed self defense classes she'd taken while at the psych ward, there was noticeable motion in her peripheral vision.
She sped her pace, but it was too late. A hooded figure, clad entirely in black, was following her, increasing their pace as Alexa did hers.
"Fuck," Alexa thought to herself, hoping against hope to reach Dean's vehicle before her pursuer caught her. She got closer to the vehicle than she had any right to expect to, but she was still twenty feet away when her potential assailant caught up to her. With a gasp and a jump of at least a few inches, Alexa froze in place when she felt a hand on one shoulder.
"What?!" Alexa cried, loudly, causing her pursuer to jump in place nearly as high as she had.
"I'm sorry," the apparently female pedestrian responded with a heavy Scottish accent. "You dropped this."
She held out a small billfold to Alexa, who grabbed it from the other girl with a desperate pull. There wasn't any money in the tiny leather receptacle. In fact, it didn't really carry anything of value at all. Alexa had her own wallet for carrying money and other important items, but this thin layer of leather that once was a baseball glove belonged to her brother. It was the only item recoverable from his person after putting the fires out.
"Thank you…?" Alexa trailed off, searching to identify the other party, who hadn't removed her hood.
"I'm Nikki. Nikki Cross." The pale young woman finally removed her hood. "Sorry. I don't like when people know I'm around. I'd rather just try to stay invisible."
Alexa tried not to betray how sad hearing that made her. "I've felt that way before. I'm Alexa," she gave Nikki her brightest smile and extended her hand, trying to convey a sense that Nikki could let her guard down around her. "It's nice to finally meet you."
Nikki took Alexa's hand, though there was little energy in how she shook it. "It's nice to meet you too. You was staring at me at lunch the other day."
Alexa nodded. "I was. They were telling me that you used to be really friendly. What happened?"
Nikki Cross exhaled deeply. "Issa long story," she bemoaned, her tone belying a sad event or series of events. "But I'm not welcome in certain circles anymore."
Alexa frowned, before an idea overtook her. "Do you wanna come to Dean and Bayley's house for a while? Talk to some people?"
Nikki shook her head. "I appreciate it, but I hafta be home soon. I don't even know why I came here. I don't know anyone anymore. I guess I was hopin' to run into you."
Alexa's eyes widened with surprise. "Really?"
Nikki nodded. "Aye. You seem nice. You're new, so maybe you won't think I'm weird."
Alexa reached out to take her new friend's hand. "Why don't you come with us to Dean's?"
Nikki refused with an even more forceful head shake. "No. I can't."
"Will you at least sit with us at lunch Tuesday?"
Cross considered this for a few moments. "I guess. I honestly forgot we was off Monday."
"We are," Alexa smiled as she spoke. "I'd invite you on the boat but I'm not sure I have the authority. But come sit with us Tuesday. Okay?"
As she finished her sentence, Dean finally made his way toward the pair of conversing girls.
"Ready?" Ambrose called from several feet away.
"Yeah." To Nikki, Alexa asked a final time. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"
Nikki shook her head. It was odd to the blonde how uncomfortable Nikki seemed around Dean.
"Okay, suit yourself." Alexa playfully pecked Dean on the cheek, then strode over to her side of the vehicle and climbed in. Dean and Nikki exchanged a glare, the type of look that's only really shared between two people with a history, before Dean pulled himself into the driver's seat.
…..
I know, I know. No murder this chapter. Well, I got way the fuck behind with exposition and needed to catch up. I had to introduce Dean's family and do some other stuff. I got a little bogged down with the narrative. The next entry will be faster and more excited. Also, I have good news! I'll have more time for this story now. The guy I was partnering with elsewhere lost his goddamn mind and started yelling about me being "pro choice," so I now only write this story. Let me know what you think.
