

### Dawn of the Knight

Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 1

Master Edition

By

Robert L. Beck

Copyright © 2019 Robert L. Beck

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### Other and future books in the series.

A Knight's Honor: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 2

A Knight's Promise: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 3

Knightfall: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 4

A Knight in the Jungle: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 5

Day of the Knight: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 6

Dragon Slayers: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 7

Joust: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 8

Plague: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 9

Mindbender: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 10

Blackest Knight: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 11

Mindbender 2: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 12

Mindbender 3: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 13

Mindbender 4: Lance Rock's Spiritual Journey Book 14

~~~

For my wife Brenda, whose grace, beauty, and love have supported me for over 30 years.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

# Acknowledgements

In the truest sense this book never would have been started, completed, or published without help from the following individuals, and I would like to thank them here. First, I would like to thank Thomas B. Sawyer for his book, Fiction Writing Demystified; Tami D. Cowden, Caro LaFever, and Sue Viders for their book, The Complete Writer's Guide to Heroes and Heroines; Sixteen Master Archetypes; and Ann Rittenberg and Laura Whitcomb for their book, Your First Novel; a published author and a top agent share the keys to achieving your dream. All three of these books were invaluable in helping me grasp the principles of fiction writing and all three come highly recommended by me for both the budding writer as well as the seasoned pro.

I want to thank my wife Brenda and Janice Keen for their encouragement to follow my dream and write this story. I would also like to thank Jeannie Sundholm who encouraged me to press on when I was ready to "throw in the towel" after completing chapter 5! Thanks go out to Jess Beck, Katie Jones, and Courtney Stangl for their editorial advice and suggestions.

The following individuals read the pre-published edition of "Dawn of the Knight" and they provided positive and encouraging feedback. I want to thank them as well. Katherine Pearce, Katey and Lindsay Gay, Matt Beck, Chris Beck, Ben Millard, Steph Grick, Kelly Ashley, Terri Hamelin, Melissa Joyce, Gail Miller, James Hershey, Alexis Hagens, Janna Weiler, and Becky Sallee.

And last but certainly not least, I would like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; the honorable God-man whose sacrificial death on the cross _rescued me!_

One honorable young man can make all the difference.

# Chapter 1

I glanced down at my watch and noted the time. The thumb and forefinger of my right hand nervously rubbed the key that was hanging from the chain around my neck. I was sitting in the arrival area of Terminal 2 at Los Angeles International Airport while waiting for a ride that was over an hour late. It was supposed to come from the Colsons; the host family whom I would be staying with for my senior year at Santa Barbara Area Senior High School. Being a Canadian high school student, I was attending this California school through a Student Exchange Program.

Repeated calls to the Colson's house only yielded an answering machine. While sighing and resting my head on my hands, I scanned the luggage that was sitting on the floor around me. My eyes came to rest on the package protruding from my carry-on tote; the one that my mother had handed to me just before saying goodbye with the comment, "This is for you when you're feeling homesick." I carefully picked it up and removed the wrapping—revealing a scrapbook filled with pictures and mementos of my life. With little else to do at the moment, I decided to peruse it. The first page contained several photos of me as a newborn baby. I was being lovingly cradled in my mother's arms as she lay in the hospital bed shortly after having given birth. I reflected on what she had told me concerning the circumstances of that event.

My conception was the result of a handsome 18 year old Canadian boy seducing a beautiful 18 year old Canadian girl with no consideration or preparation for the possible consequences. After my father found out that my mother was pregnant, he demanded that she abort me. Having been raised a Catholic; her beliefs restrained her from following through with that course of action. When my father understood that he could not persuade her to do what he wanted, he abandoned her and she never saw him again.

Her parents advised her to put me up for adoption. They said that as a single, young mother, it would be too stressful and difficult for her to raise me alone. She insisted on keeping me though, while ignoring their advice. My mom _was_ embarrassed of her pregnancy, though, which resulted in her dropping out of high school two months short of graduation. I was born a beautiful, healthy baby and I was christened Lance Joseph. Due to my father's absence my mother gave me her surname; Rock.

My grandparents did their best to help their daughter try to raise her newborn son. I was a handful and I kept them continually occupied. They used to comment to my mother that I was an intelligent, inquisitive boy who seemed to excel at figuring out how to get into places that were designated off limits while engaging in behavior that was considered dangerous.

As I grew older, the strain and demands of being a young, single parent eventually caught up with my mom. Without a high school diploma, high paying jobs eluded her. As a means of trying to cope with her difficult life, she sought comfort in alcohol. There were occasions when she would drink herself drunk and the change in her temperament would frighten me. She would get agitated and then angrily yell at me for no reason. I used to get big hugs from her before going to bed at night. That loving attention slowly disappeared the more she would drink.

By the time I was six years old my mother was an alcoholic. I was now in kindergarten and fortunately this provided a means of escape from the tense situation at home. However, my dysfunctional living environment was causing me to become incorrigible. The schoolteachers expressed their concern to my mother. During parent-teacher conferences they would inquire about my home life. She was clever at hiding her addiction, though. Because of this, there was little the school could offer in the way of help.

***

I turned to a page in the scrapbook that showed a picture of my Uncle Dave and I standing in front of his country house up in North Bay, Ontario; a city located approximately 335 kilometers north of Toronto on the shore of Lake Nipissing. We had gone fishing that day and we were proudly holding up all the fish we had caught. This photograph triggered a powerful memory of an event that occurred at that same location one year earlier when I was six years old—an event that forever changed my life. It was early April and my mother had decided we would travel up to North Bay to visit her brother. My uncle was a divorcee and we would occasionally visit his country house for a change of environment. On this particular day my uncle was going fishing and I asked to go along. My mom agreed while trusting that her brother would be responsible enough to look after my welfare. We drove along the shore of the lake towards the French River.

Spring thaw had begun. Pieces of ice were breaking off and flowing down the river into the Georgian Bay. The outside temperature was around 4° C. Groups of people were mingling on top of the frozen lake. Some of them had dropped fishing lines through holes that they had drilled through the ice. I was mesmerized by the colored specks of fishermen and the ice chunks reminded me of miniature icebergs. I watched as sections would break off from the edge and float away in the swift current.

My uncle stopped and parked the car where people he knew had gathered on the ice. He told me it was a great spot for catching walleye pike. We exited the car and then we carefully hiked over to the assembled group. I had never fished before and I watched in fascination as my uncle drilled a hole in the ice. He dropped a baited hook through the hole and then handed me the fishing rod. I stood there jiggling the line while hoping for a bite. After a while I grew restless. I started wandering around on the ice now curious to see what others were doing. I eventually made my way over to the ice edge which was approximately 10 feet from the fast moving water.

Water fascinated me. I always loved playing and swimming in it. Watching the rapids flow under and around the ice aroused my curiosity. I decided to move closer to them for a better peek. I was oblivious to the fact that no one was keeping an eye on me. They were all preoccupied with doing their own things—all of them that is except for one man. It felt thrilling to walk within three feet of the edge. The ice was translucent and through it I could actually make out the movement of the water beneath my feet.

Then without warning I heard a cracking sound as the ice already weakened by the sun, began to fracture under my weight. It shifted and I lost my balance. I slipped and fell as the section I was standing on suddenly broke off. Panic instantly gripped my mind as the current immediately carried me away. I screamed and started crying. People turned in my direction, stared in shock, and then began running toward me in confusion and alarm. By this time however, I was at least 45 feet away from the main ice body and 60 feet away from the shoreline. My situation appeared grim.

I glanced around and saw that the miniature iceberg that held me prisoner was slowly but steadily disintegrating. I was also floating toward the center of the river. While sobbing and crying out for my mother, I felt helpless and alone. As the piece of ice spun around in the current, I came face to face with the shoreline. That's when I noticed him. There was a man running along the shore and he was following me. He was undressing as he ran and at the same time he was trying to encourage me. I could hear him yelling, "Don't worry! Stay calm! I'm coming for you! Look at me kid, _look_ at me!"

I kept my eyes glued on him. His voice was commanding and authoritative. He was darting, weaving, and dodging past brush, over rocks, and around trees and amazingly, he was keeping up with me.

He yelled, "Kid, do exactly as I say! Do you understand me?"

I kept staring at him. Water was splashing on my clothes and in my face as the river became choppy. It was cold and stung my skin.

Again he shouted. "Kid, listen to me! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?"

I vigorously shook my head yes.

"When I say jump into the water, you jump in and start swimming toward me! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"OKAY!" I shouted back. At this point he had only his long underwear and socks on.

"Get ready kid, get ready."

All at once the water became calm as I floated by a small outcropping of land.

"NOW, KID! JUMP AND START SWIMMING – AND SWIM HARD!"

I obeyed his command and jumped without hesitation. The water was less than six feet deep but it was still over my head. And it was cold—numbing cold. I gasped and started choking. I was kicking, yelling, and clawing at the water—desperately trying to stay afloat. He dove in and began swimming toward me; a distance of about 60 feet. I felt myself sinking with the weight of my winter clothes and boots. Finally he was by my side.

"Hang on kid," he encouraged. "Hang onto me." He put an arm around my chest and swam us both back to shore. Once on land he said, "Do what I do kid, move like I move."

He would alternate between jumping jacks, running in place, and arm circles. I tried to keep up with him as best as I could. Every so often he would come over and vigorously rub my body up and down while saying, "Kid, you have a good instinct for survival. Good job. Good job." And then he would briskly rub my head.

This went on for about 20 minutes until a boat eventually pulled up alongside us. He picked me up and carried me over to where it landed. I was hot by this time from all the exercise and I was happy when we boarded the boat. We were wrapped in blankets until we arrived back at the fishing area. There was an ambulance waiting for us there and he, my uncle, and I all rode in it to the local clinic. After having been admitted and found to have no serious medical issues, we were released. And that was how I was introduced to Scott James; the most remarkable person I have ever known and the man who had just saved my life.

***

Upon turning to a page in the scrapbook that had a snapshot of me sitting atop Scott's shoulders, vivid memories of my relationship with him instantly flooded my mind. At the clinic I could see him talking to my uncle in the waiting room as the nurse reunited us. He had asked my uncle for permission to take me back to my mother. My uncle, out of gratitude for what he had done, agreed to let him. As Scott drove we talked. I asked him many questions.

"How come you were the only one who came after me?"

"Because I was keeping an eye on you and I saw everything as it occurred."

"You were keeping an eye on _me_? I didn't know that."

"I was keeping an eye on _everyone_ out there," he replied while smiling and winking at me.

"How come you took off your clothes when you were running?"

"It allowed me the freedom to swim better."

"How did you know when to tell me to jump?"

"I had been in that area before. I knew the location of that calm spot and knew it was the best place for you to jump in; the best place to try to rescue you."

"Why did you make us do all those exercises when we got out of the water?"

"So we would stay warm and not freeze."

"How do you kno _w_ all these things?"

"Someday, Lance, if the opportunity ever presents itself, I'll tell you," he replied while smiling again.

I asked him all the questions that my inquisitive six-year-old mind could think of and he answered as many as he could. In due course we arrived at my uncle's cabin. We walked in to find my mother asleep on the couch with an empty liquor bottle on the floor beside her. Scott took a look at her and then went into the kitchen to make coffee.

"I'll wait here with you until your uncle comes," he said reassuringly.

Eventually, my uncle arrived and he woke my mother up. She was distressed when she heard what happened but she was also quite grateful to Scott for having saved me. She invited him to stay with us until it was time for me to go to bed. Before I was tucked in, I gave Scott a big hug and thanked him not only for having saved my life, but also for the kindness he had shown toward me. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I would ever see him again.

To my delight he showed up at our door one week later after having called my mother to get permission to take me to the movies. Apparently, his house was only a short distance from our own. Before being allowed to go with him however, my mother and he sat talking at our kitchen table for over a half-hour. Scott showed her some papers and they spent time getting acquainted. I later found out this was background information and identification my mother had requested he bring in order to prove who he said he was and to alleviate any concerns she had about letting me accompany him. Over the next several months he made numerous visits to our home to check on my welfare and to always take me out somewhere fun.

One Sunday afternoon we went to a football game. The half-time show featured a karate demonstration. I was fascinated by it and Scott took notice. When we returned home he mentioned to my mother that he thought it would be a good idea for me to get involved in martial arts training. He listed benefits such as discipline, self-respect, and knowing how to defend myself. He even offered to pay for them. My mother took him up on his offer which allowed me to attend my first classes in karate.

September came and I was in first grade. One day at recess I got into a fight and bruised the face of an older boy who was picking on one of my classmates. Bullying angered me and I was determined to stop it. Four weeks later I was involved in a second fight that resulted in my injuring another bully. This prompted a parent-school administrative meeting. My mother was told that I was now permanently suspended from school and I would have to enroll in a juvenile corrections program. Alarmed, she telephoned Scott for advice. He devised a plan of action that would completely change my life. Scott recommended that my mother homeschool me but that he would do the teaching. She wouldn't have to be concerned about doing any of it. He also suggested the idea of my living with him during the week to bring male leadership and authority into my life. My mother however, could stay with us whenever she wanted. Additionally, he tried to encourage her. He advised her to enroll in an alcohol rehabilitation program and he also recommended job training courses which would allow her to find better employment. She asked me what I thought about all this. When she saw my enthusiastic response, she accepted his offer. As a result, I moved in with him which began a program that would encompass the next twelve years of my life.

# Chapter 2

Scott immediately discontinued my karate lessons. I enjoyed the physical and mental challenge that martial arts offered and I thought I was being punished for what had happened at school. When Scott said he had something even more challenging in mind for me to take its place, I became curious.

He drove me into Toronto's Chinatown district. He parked the car and we entered what appeared to be a dojo. In the back of this room was an office. There we met with a man named Yin Lu Tang—the owner and sifu (or teacher/instructor) of this martial arts training facility. He and Scott were speaking to each other in what Scott later told me was Mandarin Chinese. Sifu Lu Tang agreed to enroll me as a student in kung fu. He and Scott had known each other for many years and this apparently was the only reason he had agreed to take me on. I had previously watched Chinese martial art films and I thought that being able to study kung fu was going to be awesome. Little did I know what awaited me.

Right away Sifu Lu Tang made me sit down to give me a lecture on honor, respect, and discipline. He prohibited me from using what I was going to learn for criminal or malicious purposes. He also said that violating this prohibition would result in corporal disciplinary action from him personally and would also result in my expulsion from the academy. After his lecture, he sent me out to the training hall to begin my instruction. Initially, this consisted of methodically repeating the same intensive muscle-building exercises.

Scott had obtained the necessary books and curriculum for my homeschooling and was planning out a course of study for the year. I asked him how he was going to be able to teach me when he had to go to work each day. He answered that he was retired and no longer employed.

"What did you used to do?" I asked.

"I used to work for the United States Government," he replied.

"What did you do there?"

He stared at me but did not answer my question. I understood that he didn't want to discuss that particular area of his life, so I did not question him about it any further.

For the next several months my daily routine consisted of Scott teaching me in the morning and driving me to the gym in the afternoon. While I continually engaged in repetitive, strenuous, muscle building exercises day after day, other older students were actually learning kung fu styles and their inherent forms. I was envious of them. I remembered thinking how different this was from karate instruction where I had learned forms and self-defense techniques from the very beginning.

One day on the way to the academy, I mentioned to Scott that I was no longer interested in studying there. I told him that it was too boring and that I wanted to go back to learning karate. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and lovingly put his hand on my shoulder while saying, "Lance, I want you to hang in there. I don't want you to give up or be a quitter. If you show a little patience, the training will become more interesting—I guarantee it. I sense something very special about you and I believe you can accomplish extraordinary things in your life if you stay focused on what I'm teaching you. Will you trust me and do what I ask?"

"Yes, I will trust you."

This little motivational speech was a turning point in our relationship and from then on I began to regard him as a father figure.

That same day Sifu Lu Tang gathered all the students in the center of the dojo for a lecture. Next to him was a wooden board that I estimated to be about one inch thick. It was mounted vertically on a stand and was immobile. He began the discussion by holding a six inch nail in his hand and asking if we knew what it was.

"Yes," we responded in unison.

He took off his shirt and I was astounded at his muscular development. He was the most physically defined man I had ever seen. I could not detect any fat on him. He held the nail against the wood plank and after controlling his breathing and concentrating, he pushed down hard with his hand. The nail penetrated the wood all the way through. I gasped and then stood up—completely astonished!

He concluded the lecture by stating these facts: Without power, kung fu technique is relatively worthless. You need both power _and_ technique for an effective kung fu. Without bodily strength giving power to your strikes, you might as well be hitting someone with a pillow—there would be little difference. The strenuous exercises we engaged in daily were building a foundation of muscular power for whatever style we chose to specialize in. He suggested weight training as a way to supplement the exercises in order to build further strength. I never forgot that lesson and in later years Scott bought the correct equipment that allowed me to travel down the path of the bodybuilder.

Twelve months later I graduated from the foundational classes. I was then able to choose what styles I wanted to learn. The first style I chose was Bagua Zhang. I was fascinated by Bagua Zhang's twisting and spinning movements and the self-defense applications intrinsic to it. Challenging a practitioner of this art in combat was equivalent to being sucked into a food blender and then spit out! My second choice was Tai Chi Chu'an; a form known for its graceful, flowing movements and its devastating hand and foot strikes. My third selection was Choy Li Fut. Recognized as one of the most effective styles for fighting more than one person, it is also one of the most difficult to attack and defend against. I studied and practiced all three styles diligently and persistently until I became one of Sifu Lu Tang's top students.

Early on in our relationship, Scott had recognized my desire and aptitude for academic study. He understood my inquisitive nature as well as my insatiable thirst for knowledge and he channeled them. At his request, Sifu Lu Tang taught me how to read and speak both Mandarin and Cantonese until I reached a level of fluency in each. Scott also began to teach me a program of study that was like no other in the world. Since I had little idea of what I was actually supposed to be learning, he used that ignorance to his advantage.

His curriculum included subjects that far surpassed the average grade school program. For example, he broke down world geography by countries. We would study not only the nation's culture, but the native language as well. This included idioms and the usage of slang. He also taught me detailed information about each country that the average textbook did not take into account including facts about what areas were more dangerous than others, why they were that way, and the current political climate. As a result, over the years I became fluent in numerous languages. I often wondered how he himself had come to learn so many.

Another program of study was electricity, electronics, and computers. He designed a course that was both exhaustive and comprehensive in its size. Not only did I understand how to use computers, I learned about their construction as well right down to the micro-component level. He also taught me how to hack through computer fire walls and security systems to obtain data. There were numerous courses and programs which he taught me that left me wondering why I even needed to know them. Whenever I would question him on why we were studying a given subject, his answers were always along the lines of how it benefited and prepared me better for life.

"I've been all around this planet and if there's one thing I've observed, Lance, is that the world can often be a harsh, unforgiving place in which to live," was his typical remark. "You might not understand this now but one day when you're older and living out on your own, the instruction and training you've received in these subjects will greatly increase your odds of survival."

I laughed to myself while wondering what kind of survival situation he thought I was going to be in that would require me to hack a computer security system or wear a disguise. At times we would go up to his country home in North Bay. He owned several hundred acres of land in addition to a large and beautiful log house. There, he taught me how to hunt and fish. He also showed me how to track game and survive off of the land.

One day he told me to run away as far as I could into the woods—allowing me 30 minutes to hide. I was nervous; thinking that if I got lost and he couldn't find me, I'd be in serious trouble. He gave me one of two walkie-talkies and told me that if he didn't find me in 15 minutes to call him. I took off running as fast and as far away as possible. After finding a large, decaying log, I hid behind it. I sat there staring at my watch completely oblivious to his approach as he quietly snuck up to me and then remarked, "Hello, Lance."

He had found me within 10 minutes.

"How were you able to do that? I even didn't even _hear_ you."

"I'm going to teach you how. It's the art and science of tracking and it could save someone's life someday."

"How?"

"Let's say someone is lost in the woods. If you know how to track them—what signs to look for in order to find them—you could end up rescuing them and saving their life."

For once he emphasized how this course could help me increase someone _else's_ odds of survival. Another thing he continually emphasized from the beginning of my education until the end was that I was never to tell my mother about this "extra" or "unique," (as he called it), knowledge and training. He said that she wouldn't understand and might forbid him from continuing to teach me. He said that since she was my mother he would have to honor and respect her wishes. So, through the years I kept it from my mother and everyone else—including my homeschool evaluator.

As I grew older, my education became even more concentrated. I had reached a point in my martial arts training where I now held the respect of Sifu Lu Tang and the other top students. This allowed me the privilege of studying the exotic kung fu disciplines such as Iron Vest and Iron Palm. Iron Vest was a system of exercises combined with herbal supplements that actually hardened areas of your body making them impervious to all but the hardest of blows. Iron Palm hardened your hands making your punches feel like hammer strikes. It was the Iron Palm technique that allowed Sifu Lu Tang to push a nail through the board. In addition, my studies now included instruction in various bladed weapons such as swords.

Now thinking about weapons, I recalled a day when I was 10 years old. Scott had me follow him into an area of his country house that had been formerly off limits. He said that we were going to do target practice. I loved to shoot and I assumed the practice would involve either the shotgun or hunting rifle since we had previously used both for hunting game both large and small. He took me into a secure room that had a large walk-in closet but in actuality was a vault. After pressing his hand against an image scanner, his palm print was read and the door unlocked. Neatly stacked and secured in cases and on racks against the walls were all kinds of firearms. There were pistols, semi-automatic rifles, and even several automatic ones. I had never seen an arsenal like this before and couldn't imagine how or why he even needed them.

"Where did you get all these guns and why do you even have them?" I asked.

"When you are a little older, I'll be able to discuss that with you," he replied.

He removed a variety of different models and motioned for me to follow him down to the target range. Over the next several years he instructed me in one of the most comprehensive and exhaustive programs on firearms any gun-loving, private citizen could hope to experience.

Around the same time that he was teaching me how to shoot, he told me he was going to start training me in the style of unarmed combat that he personally used.

"What I'm going to teach you is in addition to what Yin Lu Tang is teaching," he remarked. "Consider it a supplement. This system is called Krav Maga. It's the martial art of the Israeli Defense Force. There are no forms. It consists simply of combat self-defense techniques. One of its emphases is being able to counter armed attacks from both gun and knife wielding assailants. It has saved my life on more than one occasion."

This training would involve his attacking me with both guns and knives while instructing me how and when if possible to counter, evade, and escape from these assaults.

***

Suddenly, my musing was noisily interrupted by a loud argument from two people walking behind me. I turned around to see a woman who was angrily accusing a man of having broken his promise to her. They were so preoccupied with their arguing that they both nearly tripped over my luggage. I now solemnly recalled how Scott had used a broken promise to teach me a sobering lesson.

When I was eight years old I was an avid fan of Ice Hockey. My all-time favorite player was Wayne Gretzky. One Christmas when I was seven years old, Scott had given me a mint condition Wayne Gretzky rookie card sealed in an acrylic protective case. It was my most valued possession and I cherished it profoundly.

Scott's main house was in Willowdale. During the winter months he assigned me the responsibility of shoveling the snow out of his driveway. Depending upon the amount of snow that fell at any given time, it could be a physically demanding task. He did pay me for the work however, and my piggy bank was stuffed with ten-dollar bills as proof of my effort.

One day we had a heavy snowfall and he asked me to have his driveway cleared out by a certain time. There was a playoff hockey game on television that I didn't want to miss, so I called up the next door neighbor—a boy I knew about my own age—and requested a favor. I asked him to shovel out the driveway for me. Of course I told him I would pay him the ten dollars that Scott would normally pay me. To this kid however, ten dollars wasn't going to be enough. There was 25 centimeters of snow on the ground and even though Scott's driveway wasn't all that big, it was still going to require time and effort to remove it all. Plus, he was interested in watching the same hockey game—his team being on the opposing side. I doubled my offer to 20 dollars but he still refused. In an act of desperation, I promised that if he shoveled the driveway I would give him my Wayne Gretzky rookie card. This was an offer he couldn't resist. He knew I had it because I had let him touch it while his eyes lit up and he drooled in envy. As I watched my hockey team lose, he shoveled out the driveway. Then he came to collect the card. I handed him 20 dollars instead while thanking him.

"No way!" he protested. "Give me the Gretzky card that you promised."

"No way," _I_ said. "The payment is 20 dollars. Take it or leave it."

He knew I studied martial arts and so he was too intimidated to challenge me to a fight. But knowing Scott was home, he did the next best thing. He started to cry, or bawl would be a more appropriate description. Scott came downstairs to see what all this commotion was about. The kid poured out his complaint and I told my side of the story. Scott looked at me and only wanted to know one thing; had I or had I not _promised_ to give him the hockey card as payment. I had I conceded, but so what?

"Give him the card," Scott ordered.

I was stunned.

"Give him the card," he repeated.

Now _I_ was the one who was bawling.

"But, you gave me... this card for Christmas and... and it's my most... prized... possession," I sobbed. Nevertheless, Scott would not yield. Reluctantly, I handed it over. Afterward, Scott took me aside, sat me down, and gently lectured me.

"Lance, when you promise to do something—when you give your word—you must follow through on it," he said. "Your word is your bond. Do you know what that means?"

"No," I answered, while wiping away tears.

"It means that if you make a promise your word binds you to it. It means that if you make a promise, you intend to _keep_ it. It means that just by giving your word, the promise can be assured. Lance, I want you to grow up to be a man of honor and integrity. I want people to respect you as a trustworthy person. Never make a promise or give your word about something that you do not intend to keep. It's better _not_ to promise, than to give your word and break it. Do you understand what I'm trying to teach you?"

I understood, and the sorrowful lesson I learned that day instilled within me one of the core values that defined my life.

# Chapter 3

I glanced down at my watch and then once again attempted to call the Colson's. This time the voice on their answering machine said the mailbox was full. I sighed while looking around the terminal. I decided to continue perusing through the scrapbook. I turned to a page that highlighted a picture of me that was taken when I was 10 years old. In this photo I was pretending to be Eddie Van Halen playing an acoustic guitar. As part of my required music curriculum, I began taking guitar lessons from a man named Jeff Black. Scott would drive me to Mr. Black's studio in downtown Toronto. One day Mr. Black telephoned Scott and told him he had lost the lease on the room and that he would now be teaching out of his home. Mr. Black had a son named Peter who was my age and upon meeting him, we quickly became friends. Whenever I would go over to the Black's house for guitar lessons, I would often stick around afterward to have dinner and hang out with Pete.

On one occasion when I was 12 years old, Peter asked if I wanted to play some video games. I agreed and he got out a game titled Splinter Cell. This game is based on the book of the same name by Tom Clancy. It stars a fictitious character named Sam Fisher who is an operative or secret agent for a branch of the National Security Agency of the United States government. As I watched Peter play this game in the role of Sam Fisher with all Sam's skills, abilities, and equipment, a connection was made in my mind. That night back at Scott's house, I did an internet search on Sam Fisher. I called Scott over to show him the results.

"Were you a Sam Fisher?" I asked.

He smiled as he read what was displayed on the monitor and replied, "Lance, I am not Sam Fisher."

"I know that. But did you used to be and do what he is?"

He stared at me for a moment and then replied matter of factually, "Yes. That's what I used to be. I anticipated that someday you would eventually discover my former occupation."

Immediately, I started blitzing him with questions. But he just stood there quietly smiling at me while slowly shaking his head. After a moment he asked, "Are you done now?"

I stopped talking.

He continued, "Lance, I was once an operative for the United States government. Please don't ask me what agency I worked for and never ask me questions about any of my past missions. I took an oath of confidentiality in the interest of American National Security and I will never break it. The United States government invested millions of dollars in my training and I didn't see any point in letting it all go to waste after I retired. That's why I've chosen to pass it on to you. All that I've been teaching you over the years has the potential to one day possibly save your life, or at least give you an edge in a dangerous situation."

I went to bed that night but my mind, inundated with curiosity, would not let sleep come easily.

"How do you know Scott James?" I asked Sifu Lu Tang the next day at martial arts class. "I just found out that he was an operative for a secret agency of the United States government."

"Scott was not just an operative," he thoughtfully replied. "He was the best agent in his department. By himself he rescued me from Lingyuan Prison. He brought me to the United States and from there he helped me to relocate to Canada. I owe him my life—as do many others. He is a great man."

"Can't you even tell me a _little_ more about yourself?" I asked Scott when he picked me up to bring me home.

"I can tell you anything you want to know about me, but not about my missions or the agency I worked for. They're both classified."

"But all this stuff you're teaching me—isn't it classified, too? Won't you get in trouble for revealing it to me?"

"The information that I'm passing on to you isn't classified. Besides, my superiors are always monitoring me. They always know where I am, who I'm talking to, and..."

"And what?"

"I can't discuss it with you. You'll just have to take my word for it. But the US government can come and detain me anytime they feel like it if they thought I was engaging in prohibited behavior."

"Well, how and why did you come to retire in Canada?"

"One day I was at a stop-over at CFB North Bay Air Force Base. I had some time to kill and I decided to spend it in rest and relaxation. I fell in love with the area, with the scenery, and with the people. I decided that if I lived to retirement, I would come and reside here. I also bought a house in the Willowdale area for convenience's sake."

My curious nature refused to give up on the desire to know about his missions however, and I tried to devise innocuous questions to try to siphon that information out of him.

"Did you ever have to... kill anyone?" I asked Scott one day after target practice.

"On any given mission there was always the possibility that someone might die," he replied.

"I don't believe I could ever kill anybody."

"I hope you're never in a situation where you have to make that decision," he replied. "I honestly don't see it happening in your life," he continued with a reassuring smile. "But Lance, I never want you to follow in my footsteps. I never want you to pursue a career as an operative. Promise me."

"I promise. But, why would you ask that of me?"

He stared off in the distance for a while. Finally, he replied, "This world is ruled by evil people." There was heartache in his voice. "Greed, the lust for power and control, elitism, murder, and deceit are the dominant characteristics of the ones who are actually in control. I served those men and women for most of my life. I honestly thought I was serving my country, but in reality, I was only serving _them_. Now I'm nothing more than a prisoner." He slowly and sadly shook his head while walking back to the house.

***

I flipped to the back of the book to examine a photo of me taken just last year when I was 17 years old. Peter Black invited me to go on a field trip with his high school class to visit Upper Canada Village—a re-creation of an 1860's Canadian village located in eastern Ontario. It all started when after a guitar lesson with his father, Peter started questioning me about my life.

"Dude, what exactly do you do all day, anyway?"

"I'm homeschooled. You know that. What do you think I do all day long?"

"I think that you're chained to that guy you call your mentor. Aren't you just a little bit bored? I mean you live with him 24/7 in that cabin up in North Bay."

"We're not in North Bay all the time. I live down here half the time. I'm not really bored. I do martial arts and I take guitar lessons with your father. Plus, there are lots of other things I do as well."

"Oh, that's an unbelievable social life you have there, my boy," he replied sarcastically. "And apart from me, do you have any additional friends?"

I said nothing.

"What about girls? What's your love life like?"

Again, I did not reply.

"You need to get a social life and start going to school with me. You need to meet our primary reason for living—girls!"

"No," replied Scott when I mentioned the idea of enrolling in public school. "I wouldn't be able to educate you the same way. Aren't you happy with your life the way it is? Haven't I been good and treated you fair over the years we've been together?"

"You're the closest thing to a father I could have ever hoped for."

"Then why do you now want to go to public school?"

"I don't know. I guess I feel like I'm missing out on something. Plus, I want to be around people my own age. Peter Black invited me on a field trip that the eleventh and twelfth grade classes are going to on June 15th. That's in nine days. It's to Upper Canada Village. Would I be able to go along with him?"

"Sure. I'll have your mother contact his school and get permission for you to go."

"Also, tomorrow's my eighteenth birthday. I, ah... was wondering if for my birthday... I... you know... could get a tattoo?"

"You want a tattoo for your birthday?" he replied while chuckling.

"Yeah, lots of people have them. What's wrong with that?"

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. What kind of tattoo do you want?"

"Something cool and unique that no one else has. I want a tattoo that makes a statement as to who I am."

"I'll take you downtown tomorrow and we'll shop around for one. Okay?"

I excitedly nodded my head yes.

However, after visiting several parlors, I didn't find any designs I liked. I was bummed out.

"Let me check on something and I'll get back to you," said Scott.

"Okay."

The next day he drove me to Sifu Lu Tang's academy while saying, "You said you wanted a unique tattoo; a design that no one else has and that defines who you are. Yin will be able to give you that very thing."

We entered the building and one of the senior students greeted us and led us to the private area in back. This is where I had first been lectured by my teacher over 11 years ago. There was a table set up with needles and containers of ink. I recognized it as the equipment used for the _Tebori_ method of tattooing—a method where the ink is manually pushed under the skin by hand. I began to sweat.

"Relax," said Scott. "It isn't as painful as you're now imagining."

"I think I just changed my mind."

"Just focus your mind properly like I taught you and you'll be fine," he replied reassuringly.

Sifu Lu Tang came out to greet us accompanied by another unfamiliar Chinese man. As usual, I bowed to show honor and respect. He returned my bow.

"You are one of my top students and you have honored me with your dedication, self-discipline, selflessness, and commitment to wushu. Today we are going to honor you. Please come over to the table."

I did and he motioned me to sit down and then instructed me to lay my left arm on the table with the palm facing up.

"There are two words I want you to always remember when you think of the teaching you have received here. They are honor and courage. These words in Chinese letters will be tattooed on your left arm and will be bracketed by the symbols of our school—the tiger and the dragon."

He spoke to the man who had accompanied him and he in turn, began to make preparations. My stomach was in knots. I breathed deeply and followed Scott's advice—focusing my mind and banishing the thoughts of pain and discomfort. Hours later, I sported a beautiful tattoo on the inside of my left arm.

"Scott has requested that we also use the same method to inscribe something on your right arm as well. I will let him explain."

Scott looked at me and immediately became emotional. "Lance, amongst my original group—and there aren't that many of us left—we have a motto that was given to us by our group leader. He said, and I quote him, 'You operatives have received the finest training and instruction in the world. You're fully capable of being able to accomplish whatever goals and objectives we assign you. You have access to the best weapons and equipment available. But always remember this one thing. When you're out in the field on a mission alone; when you're trapped and facing overwhelming odds; when your assignment is to do the impossible; your mind is your greatest weapon. Your mind is your greatest weapon.' Lance, through the many years that we've been together, I have taught you countless things in order for you to survive in this world. But I too, want you to always remember what he reminded us about that day; that your _mind_ is your _greatest_ weapon. I have asked Yin if he would tattoo this motto on your right arm as a permanent memento. It will also be in traditional Chinese and will be accompanied by my agency's insignia—a blue stingray with a red barbed tail, circumscribed by gold stars."

"What's the significance of that symbol?" I asked.

"To put it simply and concisely, the stingray is adept at concealment in its environment. The red tail means it can draw blood if necessary. The stars are symbolic of the United States of America."

For several hours I watched him etch this tattoo on the inside of my right arm. As I stared at the finished product I was happy. Both tattoos uniquely and concisely summed up my life.

***

The day of the field trip arrived. For convenience sake, I had spent the night at Peter's house. We were now standing at the bus stop. This excursion was going to be a new experience for me and I was fairly nervous. On the ride to school I noticed a couple of girls who looked old enough to be seniors and who were sitting up front. They were occasionally glancing back in my direction and talking amongst themselves. Upon arriving at the school, I followed Peter to his homeroom. He introduced me to the teacher. After roll call the teacher introduced me to the class as a homeschooled boy that would be joining them on the trip. Then we all gathered in the gym to wait for the bus. While standing there alongside Peter, I again noticed several girls glancing in my direction and talking to each other. He also took note of it.

"Dude, those girls are checking you out. What's up with that?"

"I don't know," I nervously replied.

"Go over there and introduce yourself to them, especially to that blonde. Her name is Kim Dowling. She's incredibly hot and currently available."

"No way."

"Eh? Go on, dude. She's eyeballing you and not even being subtle about it. I can tell. Now's your chance."

I, however, was petrified and my stomach was in knots. At length we boarded the bus. Peter and I sat beside each other and Kim and her red-headed friend Leanna sat in the seats in front of us. On the drive up Kim turned around and smiled at me. Peter nudged me, but I ignored him. He nudged me harder. Then he stared at me like I was stupid. Turning to the girls he said, "Hi Kim. This is my friend Lance."

"Hi," she replied while smiling at me. "Are you a new student, because I've never seen you in the school before?"

"I... ah... I..."

Peter shook his head in disbelief and remarked, "He's homeschooled and a little shy. He's been living up in the North Bay woods all his life and he's never actually _seen_ a girl before. Please excuse him."

Kim and Leanna both laughed hard and I stared at Peter angrily as my face turned red. Drops of sweat seeped out of my armpits. An hour and a half later we were at our destination and I was overjoyed. For the past 90 minutes I had done everything I could to avoid talking to or looking at Kim, and she had graciously complied with my wishes by ignoring me.

"Man, you blew it," Peter remarked with frustration as we disembarked the bus. "With babes like that you don't get a second chance. Don't you know how to act cool? Don't you even know how to _talk_ to a girl?"

I said nothing as I stared at the ground.

"You have been up in the woods too long. You need to come to this school for your senior year and come into the real world. I noticed other girls checking you out too. I'm your best friend. I'll help you score."

"I'd like to come to this school but Scott is against it. He wants me to stay with him so he can complete my training."

"So he can complete your _what_ _?_ "

"My... homeschooling," I sheepishly replied.

"Man, you sound like you're in some kind of hellish boot camp. You have got to get away from him— _now_."

"Maybe you're right. I'll talk to him about it when I get home."

# Chapter 4

At the end of the day Scott came to pick me up from Peter's house. As we drove home I looked over at him and nervously asked, "Scott, I know we studied health and human reproduction but ah... what ah... advice can you give me... you know... about... girls?"

He glanced over at me with a smile. "You saw some cute ones today, did you?"

I slowly nodded my head yes.

He continued to drive while deep in thought and then finally said, "Lance, I'm not going to try to dictate to you how to act in that area of your life. As for me personally, when it came to sex, I knew I never wanted to leave a hundred fatherless clones of myself all over this planet. I wished I could have had a wife and children, but my line of work prevented me from being around in one place long enough to settle down. Marriage and having kids was one of the things I sacrificed in the service of my country. Yet another good reason to not follow on my occupational path. As for you, that's a decision you'll have to make on your own. However, since you asked, here's my two cents. First, think of your own father. He used your mother solely for sexual gratification, got her pregnant, and then abandoned her. Was there any honor in that? Do you want to follow in his footsteps when it comes to your own relationships with girls? You have your whole life ahead of you. Would you want to see it or some girl's life shipwrecked by a single act of passion?

Secondly, I believe you can have fun with and around a girl without having the constant thought in the back of your mind that you have to try and get her in bed. Girls _are_ a lot of fun to be around. I'm sure you'll find that out soon enough.

Finally, if you want to be treated with dignity and respect, treat others the same way. That includes members of the opposite sex. That's all the advice I can give you. Basically, all I would like to see in your life is that you behave honorably towards others—including girls."

"Okay," I quietly replied while pondering his advice.

"Oh yes, there's one more thing. If you ever meet a girl who you think would make a great friend, never have sex with her. If you do, things will never be the same between the two of you because you'll never be able to look at her the same way again."

He continued to drive and I said, "Scott, I really want to go to public school for my senior year."

"No, that's not a good idea. I haven't finished with your—"

"I know, my training," I replied with irritation. "But I'm tired of all this studying and training. It's all I've done my whole life. I'm eighteen now and old enough to make my own decisions. I'm tired of being in your operative boot-camp and I now want to go to school with Peter."

He did not say another word the rest of the trip home but I could tell he was not happy. The next time I met with Peter, we talked about my predicament. "You need to get away from him, at least for a while," Peter advised.

"But where can I go? Even if I go to your school he'll still be dogging me and always looking over my shoulder. And I'll always feel guilty knowing he never approved of it. Where's the enjoyment in that? I'd hardly be better off than I am now."

"Let me think," he replied. After a few minutes he said, "I've got an idea. There's an option our school offers called the Student Exchange Program. It lets you study at a school in a foreign country. I know it's a little radical, but it's the only way I can think of to go to a public school and get away from him."

"Study in a foreign country? I never thought of that before. Which one would you suggest?"

"That's a no-brainer; the States. It's close enough so that we could easily stay in touch. Plus, American girls are..."

"Are what?"

"Simply put, amazing," he replied with a dreamy look in his eyes. "Think of everything you could possibly want in a girl and I guarantee you'll find it south of the border. Trust me."

"But the States is huge. Where do you think I should go?"

"That's a no-brainer too; the West Coast. The Beach Boys got it right. California girls are the most beautiful in the world."

"California? I've always wanted to see the Pacific Ocean."

"And what borders the Pacific Ocean?"

"Shoreline?" I replied while shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head.

"Beaches, you bozo! Beaches filled with tanned babes showing off their tan-lines. You've got to change your way of thinking if you're hoping to score big down there. Also, I wouldn't tell Scott about it. Get your mom to fill out the paperwork. I'll get you the program's list of schools that are located on California's West Coast. I won't be able to help you down there," he remarked with a sigh of regret. "But you'll figure out what to do. I have confidence." He grinned and gave me a high-five.

When I mentioned it to my mother her first question was, "What does Scott think about it?"

"I don't really care what he thinks about it."

"Lance!"

"Mom, he doesn't want me to go."

"Why?"

"Because he wants me to stay with him so he can finish my training."

"Finish your what?"

"My homeschooling. Mom, he's... a control freak.

" _What_? Why are you talking about him like that?"

"He doesn't want me to go and I don't want him to know anything about me leaving. He's not really my legitimate father anyway. I just want you to fill out the forms and keep this between us."

"I want to know what's going on between you and Scott. Why are you acting this way toward him and talking about him like that? He's never done anything bad to you, has he?" she asked with a sudden concern in her voice. "Hasn't he treated you like you were his own son over the years? He just bought you a Jeep for your birthday. What is going on here? You're starting to worry me and I want to know."

"I really don't feel like discussing this with you right now. Could you _please_ just trust me and sign the forms?"

"Alright, I'll do as you ask. But I'm not at all comfortable with this."

"And promise you won't say anything to Scott, okay?"

She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"Give me your word, mom."

"Lance?"

"Please?"

"Fine, I promise."

"Thanks. I owe you big time!"

After my having aced an aptitude test that was a prerequisite of the school that I'd be enrolled in, Peter's school gave me the green light to go. One of the guidance counselors had directed me to Santa Barbara Area Senior High School. I would be staying with an older host couple, Mike and Charlene Colson. Their children were grown and no longer living at home. It suited me perfectly. I would be able to slowly acclimate myself to a completely different living and educational environment with no peer pressure from kids my own age. And in particular; girls—since their behavior and mannerisms were for the most part, foreign to me.

Everything was on track until the day, a few weeks later, when Scott asked, "Why do you feel the need to go to Santa Barbara Area Senior High School?"

I shook my head. "Let me guess—my mother told you."

"Your mother hasn't spoken a word to me about it. Do you really think she needed to?"

"No. I guess not. I should have known I would never be able to keep any secret from the agency's top operative—whatever agency you used to work for."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

"You don't feel sorry," I curtly replied. "You just don't understand. I need my space. I'm tired of the life I've lived up to now and I need a break from it. I want to start living normally and go to school with kids my own age. You said it yourself, never become an operative. Yet all these years you've treated me like I'm in some kind of secret operative boot camp. Peter has often questioned what kind of childhood I've had. I'm now finally realizing that I've never had a normal one—thanks to you."

A hurt expression came over his face and I instantly felt ashamed for having said that.

"Okay," he replied calmly. "I'll stay away. I'll give you your space. Just don't forget to say goodbye before you leave."

We got in his car and drove back to my mother's house in silence. I felt guilty for having talked to him in such a disrespectful manner. No matter how much I tried to rationalize that this man was never really my legitimate father and that I knew what was best for my life, my conscience bothered me for the way I had just treated him.

***

The day of my departure soon arrived. I would be leaving tomorrow. I had spent the entire summer living with my mother while life-guarding at a local pool; and with only the occasional visit from Scott. He had kept his word. He had given me my space. As I thought of leaving, my mind was suddenly inundated by memories of all the good times we had together through the years. My mother was right. This man had been as close to me as any real father. Now we would be away from each other for the longest period of time ever. I drove to his country house in North Bay feeling remorseful that I was only coming up just to say goodbye. As I neared the property, I sensed that something was wrong. There were vehicles everywhere. I parked my car some distance away and hurried up to the house. There were RCMP, military, and National Security Agency agents swarming over his property like ants in a sugar bowl. As I tried to approach the house, I was confronted by a local constable.

"I'm sorry, but you're not allowed here," he sternly warned. "This is private property."

"What's going on?" I nervously asked.

"This entire area is now under the jurisdiction of the RCMP. That's all I can say."

"But I need to go up there. I need to talk to the owner of the house."

"There's an investigation in progress. I'm going to ask you to leave."

"But, he's... a close friend. I was hoping to see him. I _need_ to talk to him"

"I'm sorry. This is now a restricted area. Again, I'm going to have to ask you to turn around and leave. If you don't, I will arrest you for trespassing."

I walked back to my car while calling Scott's smartphone number but it immediately went to voice mail. _His city house in Willowdale_ , I thought. _I'll try there_. I drove back to Toronto but there was a growing apprehension in my mind that he would not be there either. This proved true when I pulled up to the house and it was cordoned off by yellow police tape. There were government agents moving in and around it too—but no military personnel. I called his house number but no one answered. Now bewildered, I drove back to my mother's house while trying to maintain control of my emotions. I walked through the door and my mother could immediately see something was wrong.

"What's the matter, honey?"

I broke down crying. "Scott's... gone."

"What do you mean gone?" she asked while coming over and putting an arm around me in a comforting embrace.

"I... don't... know," I replied in between sobs. "He... wasn't at either of his houses and... there were... police and government officials... everywhere. They wouldn't let me through... to see him. Something... happened to him, but I don't know what. I'm... leaving tomorrow and... and I didn't even get... to say goodbye to him."

She rushed over to the telephone and started making calls.

"Please... call the Lu Tang academy."

She did, but there was no answer there either. My mother didn't know what else to say or do. She was as distraught as I was. I sat in the living room for a long time while blaming myself for the way I had treated him. At supper, I had no appetite. That night, sleep evaded me as well. The next day I made my final preparations to depart. I thought about staying home, but I had my heart set on going to Santa Barbara. It was a tough, bittersweet decision. Then my mother shocked me.

"I have something for you. I'm not even sure what brought it into my mind," she remarked while handing me a small package. "This is from Scott. He gave it to me a short while ago. He said that if anything ever happened to him, I should make sure you get it."

I took it from her and opened it. Inside there was a strange looking key and a note. The note said: _If you are reading this Lance, it is because something has happened to me and I'm no longer able to be with you. I want you to know that I've thoroughly enjoyed the time that I've been able to spend with you through the years. You are a great kid—special and unique. A boy who can do anything he sets his mind to. You remind me so much of myself. I've tried my best to make up for the father you never had. I know there were times I failed; many times. Hopefully, you'll only remember the good times we had together. If I had a son of my own, everything that I could possibly leave him can be found in what this key unlocks. Use it wisely. I know you will. This is a tough world to live in. You've heard me say that to you over and over through the years. But it's true, as you'll find out soon enough. Use the training and skills I taught you to do some good with your life and make a difference in your world. I love you Lance, as much as the son I wish I could have had._ He had signed it and underneath his name were longitude and latitude coordinates. I sat there staring at the note while holding the key, and I wept a long time. The next day I asked my mother to leave a little earlier for the airport.

"I need to stop at a store before we go to the airport," I said. We went to the mall and I bought the best chain that I could find that would fit through the key's eye. At the airport I said goodbye to her. I asked her to call me right away if and when she found out what happened to Scott. She hugged and kissed me goodbye while telling me to stay in touch. Then she handed me the package containing the scrapbook and I told her I would call her when I arrived at the Colson's house.

# Chapter 5

I was so absorbed in this last thought that I was completely oblivious to the sound of approaching footsteps. A woman's voice asked, "Excuse me young man. Are you Lance Rock?"

I raised my head expecting to see Mrs. Charlene Colson. But instead, standing there before me was a curvaceous, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, middle-aged woman—one of the most beautiful I had ever seen! She was accompanied by a girl with sandy-blonde hair and brown eyes who I guessed to be close to my age, but somewhat younger. She too, was also pretty. The woman was holding a photograph in her left hand. She was glancing back and forth between it and me. She was well-dressed—wearing a blouse and tight nylon skirt with matching stilettos. The girl was wearing a pink tube top and tight, faded blue jean shorts. She also wore flip-flops and the supple form of her body displayed the physique of an athlete. Both of them had been tanned golden brown by the California sun. As I hadn't answered her question, the woman asked it again.

"Excuse me. Are _you_ Lance Rock?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied while putting the scrapbook back in my tote and then standing up to face them.

"My name is Stacy Muller. This is my daughter Amber-Joy."

The girl raised her hand, smiled, and said, "Hi."

Stacy continued, "I've come here on behalf of the Colsons. There's been a medical emergency and they asked me if I could help." As she said this, an expression of sorrow came over her face while a feeling of disquiet began to form in my stomach.

"Maybe you'd better sit down," Stacy suggested.

I complied.

"About an hour and a half ago Mike Colson suffered a massive stroke. Right now, he's in critical condition in our local hospital. Charlene Colson telephoned me. She's... a good friend. She asked me if I could do her a favor by coming here and taking you to my house for the night. Given the nature of the circumstances, I agreed. I'm sure it will be only temporary until Mike gets back on his feet or until another permanent arrangement can be made. Would you feel comfortable in coming home with us?"

My first thought was, _No_ , _I would not feel comfortable_. This turn of events had caught me completely by surprise and I wasn't mentally prepared to deal with having to stay in a strange woman's house. I was now starting to feel extremely nervous and I tried to get these feelings of anxiety under control.

"I... I... maybe I'd better take the next flight back to Toronto," I stammered.

A look of disappointment came over Amber-Joy's face.

"That's up to you," replied Stacy. "But I'm sure there won't be any flights back to Toronto tonight and you are going to need a place to sleep until then."

"Yes, you're right," I reluctantly conceded. I realized that this situation didn't allow for many options. The only other choice would be staying in a hotel. "Okay, I'll come with you. Thank you for your offer."

"Don't mention it," she replied as Amber-Joy smiled broadly while mouthing yes and giving a little pump of her fist.

"Are these all your things?" Stacy asked while scanning my luggage on the floor.

"Yes," I replied while nodding my head. "It's all here except for one piece which seems to have gotten lost. The airport claims department is supposed to call me when they locate it."

"AJ and I will help you carry these out to our car."

"Thank you."

I followed Stacy and Amber-Joy, (who went by the nickname AJ), out of the terminal and over to the parking lot. Breathing control and relaxation techniques were one of the benefits of my martial arts training and I was now putting them to good use.

Stacy drove us to her house in a late model four-door sedan. She and AJ sat up front allowing me to have the whole back seat to myself. For the most part it was a quiet and uneventful trip. A couple of times AJ turned around and flashed me a big grin. She had perfect white teeth and pretty brown eyes.

"How old are you, AJ?" I asked while trying to alleviate my nervousness through conversation.

"I'm 16 and I'll be getting my driver's license soon."

"She just turned 16 and she'll be getting her learners permit soon," interjected her mother. I looked over at Stacy. She was a gorgeous woman; having shoulder length, golden blonde hair, lovely blue eyes, high cheek bones, and both perfect nose and mouth. She looked like she could be a model. As I looked at her, I suddenly noticed her staring back at _me_ in the rear-view mirror! I felt my face turning red and so I quickly averted my gaze.

Before long, we arrived at the driveway of a two-story house that had a three-car garage. As soon as we pulled up to the door of the first bay, AJ bolted out of the car exclaiming, "Come on, I'll show you our house. We have a pool if you want to swim."

"You can stay in Shannon's room for now," said Stacy. "She's AJ's older sister and she's away at a sleepover with some friends. She won't be back until supper time tomorrow. AJ, help us unload the car and help carry his things up to your sister's room."

After hauling in my luggage, AJ gave me a tour of the house. The bottom floor consisted of the three bay garage, den, living room, dining room, kitchen, family room, and bathroom. The kitchen had patio doors which opened to a deck that overlooked a rectangular-shaped swimming pool. Walking upstairs to the second floor revealed a large master bedroom with its own master bathroom. There was also Shannon's bedroom, AJ's room, and a fourth bedroom which was not being used. A second bathroom separated this room from AJ's.

Stacy prepared supper and we sat down to eat. During the meal she asked me general questions about Canada and about my family. I was having a hard time paying attention to her because AJ, who was sitting directly across from me, kept trying to play footsie with me the whole time her mother was talking. I found this distraction to be both amusing and at the same time, slightly unnerving.

When we had finished eating AJ asked, "How would you like to go for a swim in the pool? You know how to swim, don't you?"

"Sure. I'm a lifeguard."

"Wow, that's cool. I'm a gymnast." She got up and did a perfect cartwheel on the kitchen floor to prove it.

"I know, I could tell," I said.

"How?" asked Stacy with a quizzical expression.

"Simple. By a careful observation of her body," I replied matter of factually.

Mrs. Muller's left eyebrow raised and she gave me a solemn stare.

"I... ah... mean by her physique," I stammered. "She has the... a... physique of an athlete," I nervously continued. "I'd better go and change into my swimsuit."

I turned, quickly made my way out of the kitchen, and then went upstairs to Shannon's bedroom. As I left, I could hear AJ remarking to Stacy, "Oh, mom, he's an absolute _dream machine_ _!_ He is _so_ cute. Can he stay here with us? Please? _Please_?"

"He can stay for the night, honey, but I don't think it will be any longer than that."

Shannon's room was immaculate with a plush carpet and a queen-sized bed. There were pictures and mementos placed here and there as well as posters on the wall. I walked over to inspect some. There was an eight by ten portrait of Shannon on her dresser and when I picked it up to examine it, I gasped. "Wow!" I exclaimed aloud. "I think I just found the girl of my dreams."

I couldn't put the photo down and I simply kept staring at it. Shannon, like her mom, was absolutely gorgeous. Her perfect features were highlighted by light-blonde, collar-length hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen. I've heard about love at first sight and I don't completely know what that means, but this girl's face immediately gave me butterflies in my stomach. A warm, intense, pleasurable feeling of infatuation slowly filled me from head to toes. I was so captivated by the photo that I didn't realize AJ was standing behind me until she remarked, "That's my sister Shannon. She's 17, but she'll be 18 in two months."

I shook my head in wonder and remarked, "She's absolutely... incredible."

AJ laughed and asked, "Do you think she's hot?"

"Supernova hot."

"Every guy in the school thinks that too."

"Her eyes are so beautiful. Does she ah... have a boyfriend?"

"Not a steady one. My mom is really strict when it comes to guys and who we're allowed to date. Right now, Shannon and Mitty have been seeing each other."

"Mitty?"

"Keith Mitterhauser. He's a senior and the quarterback for the football team. He's really cute."

_Oh, that's just wonderful_ , I glumly thought while slowly shaking my head.

"I'll meet you downstairs," said AJ, and off she went while closing the door behind her. I retrieved my swimming trunks, laid them on the bed, and then walked over to the dresser and took off my shirt. To the left of the dresser was the door to a closet that had a poster from the movie "Gladiator" on it. Superimposed over a picture of General Maximus Decimus Meridius was a quote from the movie; 'What we do in life, echoes in eternity _._ ' _One of my favorite movies and heroes_ , I thought.

I glanced at myself in the dresser's mirror. Eleven years of intense, muscle building exercise had defined my physique. I was six feet tall with brown hair and blue eyes. I weighed one hundred and eighty-two pounds with a seven percent body-fat ratio. Lifeguarding outside all summer had tanned me to a golden bronze. As I gazed at my muscular, chiseled torso, all the hours spent body building came flooding back into my mind—instantly making me feel tired.

I looked down on the dresser and picked up a bottle of perfume. I sprayed a little on the back of my hand and smelled it. _What a great scent,_ I thought. All of a sudden, the bedroom door flew open and into the room came Stacy carrying some pillows! We were both startled. She looked at me in surprise and I saw her eyes quickly scan my chest.

"I'm terribly sorry," she remarked apologetically. "I'm so used to only the girls being here, I didn't even think to knock. I brought you some pillows. Shannon took hers for the sleepover. Are you a football player, because we have exercise equipment in the den if you're interested in using it? It used to belong to Teri."

"I saw it earlier. You have a son named Terry?'"

"No. No boys, only girls." Then a sad look immediately came into her eyes.

"Your daughter Teri is not around?"

"No. She's... studying... over in Europe."

"Oh, I see. I might use the equipment if I have time. Thanks."

Her eyes glanced at my tattoos. I quickly moved my arms to my side.

"When will Mr. Muller be home?" I asked.

"I'm... divorced," she softly replied while now looking down at the floor. Her response made me feel slightly embarrassed for having asked that question. After a moment, she noticed I was holding the bottle of perfume. I quickly put it back on the dresser.

"AJ is waiting for you at the pool," she said. "I have to call to see how Mike Colson is doing." She handed me the pillows, turned, and then exited the room. I took the pillows and threw them on the bed. I spread my arms out and fell back onto the bed while landing square in the middle and I promptly cried out in surprise! Something thick, hard, and flat jabbed into my back from underneath the covers. After peeling them back, I discovered a book. Closer examination revealed it to be a diary.

_Hmm, this must belong to Shannon_ , I thought. It had a lock but to my surprise, it was unlocked.

_Should I examine it?_ I thought. _No. A Diary is a person's personal journal and you have no business looking at it,_ reminded my conscience. But then my curiosity rose up in my defense. It compelled me to rationalize that it couldn't hurt to try to know just a little bit about the lovely creature who had smitten me. Plus, she would never even know what I had done. So, I opened it and I began to explore the secrets of her universe. Several entries had been headlined by a title with the first being dated from when she was 14 years old.

As I began to peruse through the book, I immediately felt guilty because there was indeed, very personal information written in it. Embarrassing to her, but fascinating to me. I decided for lack of time, to quickly scan through the pages while stopping only to read a title that caught my interest.

The first headline that did was titled, _Wanted: A Real Man_. In this entry she wrote about how in history class she had studied about the Crusades in the 11th century AD involving knights and about the Code of Chivalry. She also described a class of knight called a Paladin—a kind of elite knight who held to this code. _Paladins embodied respect, self-control, honor, justice, and held to all that is good. They would respect women, defend the weak and innocent, avenge the wronged, exhibit courage in word and deed, destroy evil in all its monstrous forms, and die with valor and honor_. She went on to write how she didn't believe there was a boy or man alive today who held to this code or who was characterized by these traits. But she wished for someone like that to come into her life to love and care for her while rescuing her and her family from the evil that terrorized them. She then quoted Edmund Burke when he wrote, ' _The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing_.' _But where are all the good men, the real men, the Paladins?_

_She's right in thinking that she'll never be able to find a guy who embodies all those characteristics_ , I thought while chuckling. _This girl's living in a fantasy world. But what did she mean by the statement; 'the evil that terrorized them?'_

I continued to flip through pages and the next title that caught my attention read, _Who Will Rescue Me?_ This entry had been dated from a little over a month ago and the page had tiny dried wet spots on it. I gazed at it while picturing her teardrops gently falling on the paper. She wrote about how this evening AJ and she had barely been able to get into the room in time before the stranger forced his way into their house. While AJ sat and stared at the floor, she sat and stared at her watch—counting the minutes. Instead of the usual 45 to 50, the man had stayed for over an hour. When their mother had finally come to let them out, she had welts on her face and was sobbing uncontrollably. Shannon wrote how deeply hurt and furious she was to see her mother being continuously physically abused. And if the police couldn't help them, who could? _There is no one else to turn to, no one who can save us. Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm in such despair. Isn't there anyone who can free us from those filthy, despicable pigs? I so hate my father, and wish he were dead. But what's the use. There is no hope. Please, God, please send someone who can rescue us_.

_Whoa!_ I thought with concern. _What could this be about?_ I felt deep compassion stirring within my heart as I pondered her predicament. I wanted to continue reading more entries but I heard AJ calling for me. I put the diary back in its place, changed into my bathing suit, and then went downstairs to join her.

# Chapter 6

Stacy had decided to join us. She was sitting at a poolside table watching AJ who was already in the pool and who was shouting for me to jump in and join her.

"I have to do something first," I answered back. "Mrs. Muller I have to call my mom and let her know what's going on. Is that okay?"

"Certainly, Lance. Would you like to use our phone?"

"No, I'll just use my smartphone."

I told my mother that I would be temporarily staying with the Muller's. I also asked if she had any updates on Scott. She didn't, but she said she would call me if she did. After hanging up, I walked to the edge of the pool and then dove in.

"AJ, I'm going to do some laps first. Is that okay?"

"Sure," she replied.

After swimming the length of the pool 10 times, I made my way over to where she was floating. While gazing at my muscular physique, she asked if I had come to the school to join the football team.

"No. Not really."

"Why did you come then?"

"To get away; I needed a break from... different things."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're here."

The phone rang and Mrs. Muller went into the house to answer it. As AJ watched her leave she asked, "Are you really a lifeguard?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever saved anyone from drowning?"

"One time I did."

"Could you show me how you did it?"

I stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Uh-huh."

"I guess I could. Ah... swim over to the far side of the pool. Do you want to pretend to be a person who's drowning or unconscious?"

"Unconscious."

"Then swim over there and float on your back and I'll come rescue you."

She moved to the other side of the pool and began floating on her back. I swam over to her and after putting my left arm discreetly around her chest, I began to swim us both to the edge of the pool. Suddenly, she turned and embraced me in a hug. Then while staring up into my face, she flashed her eyes seductively. Immediately, I felt a spike in my hormonal level! Startled by this behavior, I gently peeled her arms off from around my neck and said, "You're supposed to be unconscious, remember?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Do you know CPR?"

"Of course."

"Can you teach it to me?"

"I suppose I can."

"Let's do it over there," she said while pointing to the area where her mother had been sitting.

I followed her out of the water and watched her lay down on her back.

"Okay, the first thing you should do," I advised, "Is two inch chest compressions—30 in a row while trying to maintain a speed of 100 per minute. Actually, the first thing you need to do is call 911 and have them send an ambulance," I corrected. "Next, see if the person is conscious and breathing and _then_ start chest compressions."

"Okay, do it."

"Do what?"

"Compress my chest, silly," she remarked while arching her back and sticking her chest out.

"Uh... AJ... I really don't feel comfortable putting my hands... you know... _there_."

"Then show me the next thing," she continued with an annoyed tone.

"That would be mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Unfortunately, I don't have a CPR mask on me."

"Do you really need one just to show me?"

"Uh... I suppose not."

I went through the routine of unblocking her air passages and as I glanced down at her mouth, she slowly slid her tongue out and across her top lip while again flashing her eyes at me. This caused a surge in my hormonal level! My pulse quickened as I stared at her.

"Go ahead," she cooed seductively. "My mouth is all yours."

But I was now paralyzed with panic.

"Lance, what are doing with my daughter?" Mrs. Muller challenged in a puzzled tone of voice as she walked up behind us.

I jumped up startled and almost fell into the pool!

"I wasn't doing anything, Mrs. Muller. I mean... I was just trying to show AJ... how to do... you know... mouth-to-mouth—that is, CPR."

"Lance, I'm a nurse and my daughter already knows CPR." she remarked with a skeptical tone while scrutinizing me.

"Oh... that's great," I replied sheepishly while glancing down at AJ who was now sporting an impish grin.

"Let's, uh, all continue swimming," I suggested while quickly diving back into the pool.

For the next 15 minutes I helped AJ do backward and forward flips which she performed effortlessly with athletic grace—all under the watchful eye of her mother.

By now it was dark and so I glanced at my watch. It registered 9:45 PM. Stacy had turned on the poolside lights. I was feeling exhausted. The combination of the stress of the last 24 hours, the lack of sleep, jet lag, and the vigorous swim, had me completely spent. I was tired both mentally and physically. I swam over to the edge of the pool where Stacy was sitting and then exited it.

"I hope my daughter didn't wear you out," she remarked.

"AJ is a lot of fun. She's a nice girl. I'm really tired. If it's okay with you, Mrs. Muller, I'd like to go to bed." I yawned deeply as I said this.

"That's fine, Lance. You can leave your wet bathing suit in the upstairs bathtub. I'll take care of it later. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mrs. Muller and thanks," I replied as I turned and left.

***

I stood in front of the upstairs bathroom mirror now brushing my teeth. I was wearing my boxer shorts and a towel which was wrapped around my waist. My wet bathing suit was lying in a clump behind me in the tub. AJ, now wearing a pajama shorts outfit, was standing in the doorway staring at me with a strange look on her face like she wanted something. It was making me jittery and I was doing my best to ignore her as I rinsed my mouth out. Finally, I looked over at her and said, "Goodnight, AJ. I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded her head and followed me as I made my way into Shannon's bedroom. Then she closed the door behind her. Near the bed I turned around and asked, "Why are you in here? It's time to go to bed."

She held her arms open and replied, "But you haven't given me my goodnight hug."

"Eh? You want me to give you a goodnight hug?"

"Yes. Don't you hug your mom goodnight before you go to sleep?"

"I use to when I was little, but that was a long time ago."

"Well, goodnight hugs are a custom in our family and I'd like one before I go to bed."

I stood there at the foot of the bed teetering from fatigue while staring at her mystified.

"It's okay, silly," she remarked while grinning. "I just want a hug. I'm not going to bite you."

"Okay," I conceded, too bushed to argue with her about it. I held my arms open and she reached up and wrapped her arms around my neck. At the same time she jumped up and wrapped her legs around my waist. Her weight and momentum forced me to fall back onto the bed where she quickly straddled me while giggling.

"AJ!" I tried to cry out in protest, but no words were audible because before I had a chance to speak, her mouth was instantly on mine—kissing me passionately. Up to this point in my life I had never been kissed by a girl. There was a sudden, overwhelming feeling of euphoria as I held Amber-Joy in my arms—her lips fervent on mine. It had taken over my mind and body. My hormones were running wild and enjoying their new found freedom. I had a choice to try and corral them in or run with them. Running was easier, and I began returning her kisses as our passion increased in intensity. Just as it was progressing to the next level my conscience reprimanded me. _Stop!_ _What do you think you're doing?_ _Do you want to get this girl pregnant? Are you trying to follow in your father's footsteps?_

_No,_ I answered back in between kisses.

Then stop. NOW!

I knew I did not want to get AJ pregnant and as I gazed into her face, I saw someone whom I knew would make a great friend. Now forcing my body to submit, I stopped kissing her and I also restrained her from kissing me while telling her to stop. My angry hormones raged in protest and I was about to re-consider my decision when three loud raps on the bedroom door helped convince me of the gravity of my situation. In a panic, I threw AJ off of me toward the other side of the bed. The adrenaline enhanced force of my toss was too much however, and I saw with horror that she was going to land beyond the bed and onto the floor! I heard her exclaim, "Whoa..." and I watched in amazement as her gymnastics training kicked in. With cat-like reflexes and split-second timing, she rapidly spun her body in midair while reaching out to grab the edge of the bed sheets with her body slamming into the side of the mattress just as Mrs. Muller came striding into the room.

Glaring at me and then at AJ, Stacy exclaimed, "Amber-Joy Ingrid Muller, you get into your room and into your bed, right _now_!"

AJ scurried off to her room and as she was passing behind her mother she quickly turned and gave me one of those cute, feminine hand waves while flashing a big grin. Then she exited out the door. I could see from the expression on Mrs. Muller's face that she was furious!

"You listen to me, young man," she admonished. "If you want to stay in _my_ house then you'd better keep your hands, your mouth, and every _other_ part of your body to yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ah, yes, ma'am, perfectly clear," I nervously and respectfully answered. "And I am truly sorry for what just happened here. I—" but she ignored me and strode off in the direction of AJ's room. I could hear muffled voices coming from through the door. I was still feeling completely exhausted but I was curious, too, and I was reaching that point where you get so tired you can't fall asleep. I walked over to my door and cracked it open.

"What were you doing in there alone with him?" I heard Mrs. Muller interrogate AJ through her closed bedroom door.

"We weren't doing anything but talking. Honest!"

"AJ _..._ "

"Okay, mom, we were... kissing—but nothing else. I swear. I'm really telling you the truth now."

"That's it. He's leaving tomorrow, no matter what. I'm not going to let some strange boy come in here and try and take advantage of my daughters."

"No, mom, please don't. Don't make him leave. He's really a nice guy." After a slight pause she said, "It's my fault mom. I... I started it. Please don't blame him. It was entirely my fault and he even tried to stop me. He really did. I'm sorry, mom. I'm really, really sorry."

After another pause Mrs. Muller asked, "How _could_ you, AJ? After all the instruction I've given you and your sister about how to act around boys, this is how you behave when we have a guest staying with us? I don't want to see or hear that the two of you were alone behind closed doors ever again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mom, I understand," replied AJ, dejectedly. "But I _am_ sorry, mom."

I quickly shut my door. I slowly shook my head in bewilderment as I walked back to the bed while fingering the key on the chain around my neck. Next, I went over to the window shades and closed them tight. Then back to the bed where I crawled under the covers. Sleep was slow to come. I kept thinking about the day's events while repeatedly replaying them in my mind. I turned over on my side and finally dozed off—exhaustion finally running its course...

# Chapter 7

I slept soundly for a long time. In my final dream I sensed a presence in the room standing near the bed. Then I felt a hand gently touch my right side as it moved around under the covers as if searching for something. I gradually opened my eyes. In the semi-darkness I could perceive the outline of a form above and stretched over me. I panicked, and I immediately reached up and grabbed it—my hands coming around a waist. There was a loud gasp of surprise! I twisted and threw the body down underneath me while maneuvering to a position where I sat straddling it on top. I then reached over and turned on the nightstand light. My heart immediately began to have palpitations as I stared down into the face of Shannon! We gazed into each other's eyes with my hands spanning her shoulders and resting on the bed while her hands gently pushed up against my chest.

After a moment she calmly remarked, "You can get a better look if you get off of me and let me up."

I smiled as I moved aside and said, "I'm sorry. You startled me." She sat upright and I noticed her left hand was still probing under the covers. Then it dawned on me what she was searching for.

"Are you looking for this?" I asked as I dropped to the floor onto my knees. I reached under the bed and pulled out her diary. Before handing it to her, I fingered the lock closed. She took it and seeing that it was locked, stared first at it and then at me. I could tell by her facial expression that she was trying to remember if she had left it unlocked. I nervously wondered if she would ask me if I had read it. It would take boldness to confront a total stranger and guest about something like that and I was counting on her having the grace and tact not to. I didn't want to admit that I had read it, but I didn't want to lie to her either.

She got up off the bed and walked over to the desk near the window. After opening the top drawer, she put the diary inside of it. Then she removed a small key from inside a cup that was sitting on top of the desk. Next, she locked the drawer with the key and then put it in her pocket. I wanted to read more entries from her diary, but I had fallen asleep before I had the chance. Now I was going to have to pick a desk lock in order to be able to do that. For me however, that would pose no problem at all. Shannon opened the shades letting light flood into the room. All the while she was doing this, I was scrutinizing her. She was dressed in a white cotton halter top and a pair of white shorts and her figure, simply stated, was _voluptuous_.

Finally turning to me she said, "My name is Shannon in case you haven't figured that out yet."

"Hi. I'm Lance Rock. It's nice to meet you." I stood up and held out my hand for her to shake. She glanced at it and replied, "I know. AJ has told me all about you. Why don't you put on some clothes and come down and join us for lunch?"

_Put on some clothes and lunch?_ I thought. Then I realized I was dressed in only my boxers! I could feel my face turning red. "Okay," I replied while quickly ducking under the covers and glancing at my watch as she exited the room. It was 11:45 AM.

I got dressed and then made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Stacy was working at the hospital. She was doing a 12 hour shift and she wouldn't be home until 11:00 PM this evening. AJ was sitting at the kitchen table and as soon as I saw her, my hormones stirred as memories of our passionate encounter from last night came flooding back into my mind. Fortunately, Shannon was present and I was able to focus my attention on her instead.

I sat down and Shannon asked me what I would like for lunch—offering several choices. While waiting for it to be prepared, AJ decided to show me how mischievous she could be.

"Shannon, Lance said he thinks you're incredibly gorgeous and supernova hot. When he looked at your picture on the dresser, I heard him gasp and say that he had just found the girl of his dreams. He also thinks that you have beautiful blue eyes."

I clasped my hands over my face in total disbelief—trying to hide! Then I looked down under the table to see if there was enough space there for me to crawl into and disappear.

"He even asked if you had a boyfriend," she continued.

My face was feeling hot and I imagined it was also glowing bright red. I could feel tiny drops of sweat seeping out from my armpits. Shannon turned and brought a sandwich and then set it down before me. I tried not to make eye contact with her and I glanced over at AJ instead. She had an impish grin on her face. I gave her a nasty look. She smiled back playfully and then while looking at Shannon she asked, "Do you think he's as cute as Mitty?"

"That's enough, AJ!" Shannon snapped while giving her a harsh look. "It's time to eat."

As we ate, I eventually worked up enough courage to cautiously raise my head. I glanced over at Shannon and she glanced back at me with a warm and reassuring smile. I returned her smile as the butterflies in my stomach wildly flitted around.

After lunch Shannon remarked, "My mother told me to tell you that the prognosis for Mr. Colson is not good. His left side is paralyzed. He's going to need constant care and physical therapy. I'm sorry to be the one to have to break the news but this means that the plans they had for you staying there for the school year are now over." My heart sank upon hearing this. "My mother also said that you could stay here for a couple of days until the school finds someone else who is willing or able to put you up. That is, if you want to."

I breathed a big sigh and replied, "I'm sorry to hear that about him as well although I do appreciate you taking me in."

"That's no problem, but I do need my room back. You're going to have to sleep on the hide-a-bed couch in the family room."

"That's fine."

"Since you _are_ going to be staying here then, I'm going to give you a set of keys to the outside doors. Also, there are house rules you'll need to know about."

"Okay."

"First, our curfew to be back in the house is 10:00 PM. Second, we have household chores that we are all assigned and you'll have to do your share of them."

"No problem."

"Finally, you are not allowed to answer the door... or the phone."

I raised my eyebrows at this statement. I could see she was uncomfortable and embarrassed about telling me this rule. Since she had been watching me nervously play with my key the whole time we were talking, she quickly switched the conversation to it.

"Is that a key hanging from that chain?"

"Yes."

"I've never seen one like that before. It's very cool looking. Is it to something special?"

"I think it's the key to his heart," interjected AJ with that same mischievous smile on her face. I smiled back at her while slowly shaking my head.

"It was given to me by someone very close," I replied. "It's the most precious thing I own."

"Seriously _?_ " asked AJ.

I nodded my head affirmatively. I noticed during this conversation that Shannon's gaze was now riveted on me. I stared back at her intensely. I was totally captivated by her and the feeling of infatuation was becoming even stronger. Her eyes briefly met mine and then she quickly averted them.

"So Shannon, what's most precious to you?" I asked.

While ignoring my question she got up from the table and said, "We'd better get the chores done if we want to go to Keith's house for the party tonight."

"What party are you talking about?" I asked.

"Keith Mitterhauser is having a before-we-go-back-to-school party for all the seniors," replied AJ. "Shannon and I are going and you'll be coming, too. Right, Shannon?"

She nodded her head yes.

"But you're not a senior, AJ," I remarked.

"She still's coming," said Shannon. "Here's your list of house chores," she continued while handing me a piece of paper.

Cleaning the bathrooms was on the top of my list followed by cleaning the pool and then mowing the lawn. _All the dirtiest and hardest tasks_ , I thought while chuckling.

I went into the downstairs bathroom looking for cleaning supplies. There was nothing under the vanity or in the cabinets. I started searching around. I remembered seeing a door to the left of the inside garage entranceway and I thought that maybe it led to a utility room. Upon opening this door, I was surprised to find another metal reinforced door like a security or fire door that one might find in an office building. Set in the middle of this door and at eye level was a peep hole. Above it, and flush with the concrete wall was a CCTV camera. I reached over and attempted to turn the heavy latch on this door to open it.

"STOP!" shouted Shannon while running up to me. "What are you doing?"

"I was searching for stuff to clean the bathrooms with and I thought they might be here in this closet."

"That's not a closet. You're not allowed in this area. Please don't come near here again."

"I guess you forgot to mention that house rule to me," I replied matter of factually. "Is there anything else you forgot to tell me about; any other little family secrets?"

She stared at me with wide eyes but did not reply.

"Maybe you can _show_ me where the cleaning supplies are so I can get on those toilets right away," I now sarcastically remarked.

Two hours later all the jobs were done. The girls had gone shopping and Shannon told me to move my belongings out of her room and downstairs into the den area while they were away. Instead, I went upstairs and lay down on her bed. My thoughts were on the hidden door, on Shannon's diary entries, and on Shannon herself. I pondered the connection between the three. Then it came to me. The secret door was the entrance to a 'panic' or 'safe' room. It was a place of refuge and protection that was normally impenetrable where people could wait until help arrived or the danger subsided. Scott had gone over these with me in one of his lessons on security systems. The layout of this room fit the description perfectly. A secure room with a reinforced door, a camera, and peep hole to see who was standing outside. Probably an intercom built in as well. This was the room she had talked about in her diary. _But why did Stacy feel the need to have a panic room in their house?_ I thought. _What exactly did Shannon mean by the statements in her diary that someone was abusing her mother and that the police were unable to help? Why did she wish for the death of her father?_ Curiosity was eating away me. _Was there anything I could do to possibly help them?_

If I _was_ going to attempt assistance, I was going to need more information. The first step would be to finish reading her diary to glean any additional information I could find in any other entries. In order to do that, I was going to have to pick the lock to her desk drawer. A quick search around her room yielded the proper implement and I had the drawer opened in a few seconds. But after a thorough search, the diary was nowhere to be found. _Where could she have put it?_ I thought. _Not back under the sheets because I would have felt it when I lay down._ I looked around the room. There was a bookshelf on the other side of her bed. I went over to it and began to peruse through the books. The diary was not one of them. Maybe it's in the other bedroom—Teri's room.

I went out into the hallway and turned the knob on that door. It was locked. I need a different kind of pick. I walked over to Stacy's room. This door was open. I made my way over to her bathroom and started checking around her cabinets and the vanity while stopping briefly to admire the Jacuzzi. After a one minute search, I found what I was looking for and so I went back to Teri's door. I was just starting to pick the lock when I heard Shannon's voice behind me exclaim, " _Now_ what do you think you're doing?"

Startled, I dropped the pick—not expecting them to be back this soon or having heard her come upstairs.

"I... uh... was wondering why I have to sleep in the family room when you have this bedroom available. I was going to check it out, that's all. Since the door was locked, I was trying to open it to see if it was being used. I know I probably just broke another rule and I'm, ah... sorry."

I retrieved the lock pick and quickly went downstairs. Fortunately, Shannon did not press me any further about it. I decided the only way to solve the mystery of what was going on would be through a direct confrontation. If that didn't work, I was going to have to put it out of my mind. I had reservations about using the direct approach however, because it would mean revealing what I knew through having read her diary.

# Chapter 8

_I'll try the indirect approach first_ , I thought. It presented itself when AJ asked me to play video games. While participating with her, I asked her some subtle questions while trying to fish out information. This turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. She refused to reveal anything while acting as if she had no idea what I was talking about. I did not feel comfortable about directly confronting her and I was now becoming annoyed and frustrated. After dinner, AJ and I were in the family room watching television when Shannon came in, sat down, and then told AJ to get dressed because we'd be leaving shortly for the party. AJ ran upstairs, leaving the two of us alone.

"You can change too, if you want," she suggested. "It's an informal get-together."

"No. I think I'll skip this event," I replied while thinking the last thing I want to do is go to Mitty's house.

"Well, you have to come with us."

"Why?"

"Because it's an invitation for all the seniors and that includes you, too."

"So what," I remarked. "I'm still going to pass on going."

This response took her back.

"My mother—"

"Your mother has put you in charge of AJ, Shannon. I'm old enough to take care of myself."

Her expression immediately changed. I could tell she was not used to being challenged like this.

"You have to come because it's too—"

"Too what? Too dangerous to stay here all by myself? Is that what you're trying to say to me?"

Now she appeared flustered and against my better judgment, I decided to unload the big question.

"What or whom do you need rescuing from?"

Her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open in surprise. But she quickly recovered and replied, "Excuse me?"

I repeated the question.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she answered. She quickly got up out of the chair to leave the room and I got up, too. In an instant, I was in front of her and blocking her path.

"You _do_ know what I'm talking about," I challenged. "Why are you pretending like you don't? Who is harassing your family and why do you wish... your father was dead?"

Her expression now turned to one of shock followed by hurt. Then she slapped me across the face so hard it felt like she had thrown acid on it! Now I was the one who was stunned! With her eyes becoming red and moist she sidestepped around me and in a distraught tone of voice challenged, "Who do you think you are coming into our home and prying into affairs that are none of your business? How _dare you_ violate my privacy by sticking your nose into something so personal."

AJ had come back downstairs and Shannon hurried on past her. She looked at Shannon and then at me and asked, "What's wrong?"

With her voice trembling, Shannon commanded, "Let's go, AJ!"

"But what about Lance?" AJ asked while now looking both puzzled and concerned.

"He's _not_ coming," Shannon angrily replied as she exited out the door into the garage.

"Oh, yes I am," I defiantly remarked while following out after them.

***

We drove to Keith's house with me sitting in the backseat, Shannon at the wheel, and AJ in the front passenger's seat. Shannon was still visibly upset—wiping the occasional tear away from her eyes. AJ, now also looking troubled, kept glancing at her and then back at me. I just shrugged my shoulders and shook my head like I didn't understand. I was annoyed that the plan I had conceived to try to solve this family's dilemma had failed. Direct confrontation was either a win or lose scenario. I had lost and I didn't like it. Why did this girl have to be stubborn and emotional? Why couldn't she have just answered my questions? I _was_ just trying to help them. Couldn't she see that?

We arrived at Keith's house, or I should say mansion. The Mitterhauser's lived at the end of a cul-de-sac. As we drove up to his residence which was surrounded by a large iron fence, I noticed numerous cars parked on each side of the road. A security gate guarded access to his driveway, but it was currently open. Shannon pulled up to it while quickly wiping her eyes as a guard stepped out and greeted us. He was holding a clipboard and while gazing into the car he politely said, "Good evening, Shannon."

"Hi, Steve."

"You brought two guests with you tonight?"

"Yes. This is my sister Amber-Joy and this... this is a boy who's staying with us temporarily."

"And what is your name?"

"Lance Rock."

After writing it down he remarked, "You all have a good time tonight. Keith is expecting you Shannon. There's a spot saved for you behind his car next to the water fountain."

She nodded her head and then drove forward—pulling up to what I estimated to be a 10,000 square feet house. After parking, Shannon immediately sprang out of the car and ran along a walkway that led to the back of the house. AJ chased after her and I decided to lag behind and lock the car doors. Keith lived in an estate that was located on beach front property. I could only imagine the worth of this place. _It figures my competition would have to be the son of a millionaire,_ I despondently thought.

Instead of following the girls however, I paused to weigh my options. I was still infatuated with Shannon and the house before me was home to my rival for her heart. I needed to check it out, (or him for that matter), to see what I was up against. A little reconnaissance mission was in order. I decided to try a direct approach again while counting on no stubborn, emotional girls as obstacles to overcome. I walked up to the front door, opened it, and then entered his house. Stretching before me was a large, furniture-filled vestibule with a cathedral ceiling. No one was in the immediate vicinity. I deliberated on which room would be my primary objective and I found the stairs leading up to the second floor. I rapidly went from room to room while unlocking each door until I finally found it—Keith's bedroom.

It was a huge room that contained what looked to be a king-size bed against the far wall. On one side of the bed was an awards display case. A closer inspection revealed it to be filled with trophies in football, swimming, surfing, and interestingly enough, martial arts—Judo to be exact. Keith held the rank of Orange Belt. I walked over to his dresser and noticed several pictures of him. He was a big guy judging by who he was standing beside in the photos. One of them was Shannon. There were others of Shannon as well. A jealous feeling came over me as I picked up a portrait shot of the two of them. Then I heard a voice from behind me unexpectedly challenge in an aggravated tone, "You've got about five seconds to tell me who you are and what you're doing in my bedroom."

I turned around to face the doorway and there was Keith. He stood about six feet four inches tall and I estimated his weight at around 190 pounds.

"My name is Rock, Lance Rock, and I'm looking for her," I replied while pointing to Shannon in the picture that I was holding.

"What do you want with her?" he asked while still sounding agitated.

"I'm an exchange student from Canada attending Santa Barbara Area Senior High School and I'm temporarily staying at her house. I came with her to the party tonight and I... ah... kind of got... lost."

"And did you think you would find her in my _bedroom_?" he disbelievingly asked while crossing his arms.

I could feel my face turning red. "Well... like I said, I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. I mean this place is... enormous."

"Okay, lost boy from Canada. I don't know who you are, but if you _are_ here for the party, it's outside in the back yard, not in this room. Put the picture down where you found it and follow me."

I returned the photo to his dresser and walked toward the bedroom door. Keith turned and I followed him out. We went down the stairs and there, standing at the bottom, was a man who I surmised was house security. He was closely watching us. _That answers the question as to how Keith knew I was here_ , I thought. _This residence must have concealed cameras and alarms_. _I should have taken more precaution._ At length, we made our way out a back entrance and into a large courtyard that contained among other things, an Olympic size swimming pool.

In the courtyard Keith stopped, turned to me, and said, "Next time you're pretending to be lost, it better not be in my house. Is that understood?"

I said nothing. We continued to walk together and he eventually calmed down.

"Are you into sports?" he asked.

"Sort of."

"What kind?"

"Football and swimming."

"If you're thinking of playing for the football team, you're too late. The squad has already been picked and our first game is in a week."

"We'll see about that," I replied while glancing around for Shannon.

"What position were you going to try out for?" he asked.

"Quarterback," I replied.

He stopped and again stared at me while trying to decide if I was being serious or not. We continued walking and eventually we found ourselves in the middle of a large crowd of people. There was music blaring with kids milling in and around the pool while eating, drinking, dancing, swimming, and talking. This group contained both guys and girls including Shannon. Most of the guys had the physiques of athletes. Keith walked over to Shannon and beckoned me to follow him. I suddenly started to feel uncomfortable.

"Is this the guy that upset you earlier?" he asked her.

She slowly nodded her head yes while avoiding eye contact with me.

"Would you believe my security found him snooping around in my bedroom?"

A look of disbelief came over her face. Everyone within earshot also took notice. The uncomfortable feeling was growing stronger.

"I... can explain," I said.

"I don't care to hear your explanation again which was total BS anyways," he replied. "You've done or said something to upset my girlfriend. She won't tell me what it is, but you listen very carefully. Stay away from her. Do I make myself clear?"

In light of what AJ had told me about their relationship, I wanted to vocally object to his belief that Shannon was his _girlfriend_. I also wanted to sarcastically ask him how he expected me to _stay_ _away_ from her when we were living in the same house. However, not wanting to create a scene at the moment, I simply replied, "No problem."

I turned and exited the pool area. I started to walk down toward the beach and hadn't gone far when AJ came running up to me and grabbed me by the arm.

"What did you say to my sister back at our house?" she asked in a distressed tone of voice. "She's upset and she won't even tell me why. She's furious with you!"

"I was simply trying to ask her questions about things she had written in her diary." I replied matter of factually.

"Her diary? You were reading her diary? How could you, Lance? That's the most personal thing she has. Don't you know that a diary is private?"

"Yeah, I know it's private. But I was just trying to help you guys—"

"And then you had the nerve to ask her about things she's _written_ in it? What's wrong with you? Why would you do such an ignorant thing?"

She was beside herself and I was now feeling both alarmed and ashamed.

"AJ—"

"Did you go through the underwear in her dresser, too?" she asked sarcastically. "Why did you have to go and be such a jerk?" And off she stomped.

I stood there speechless. At length, I decided to try and forget the whole uncomfortable incident by exploring the beach. While wandering around, I encountered mixed groups of students. Many would greet me and many of the girls would glance my way and smile. The predominant activities going on were either drinking, (mostly alcoholic beverages), smoking, (marijuana at times), making out, playing games such as Frisbee, or just sitting around chatting. I stopped to watch a mixed group of kids playing beach volleyball. After observing them for awhile, one of the guys asked if I was interested in joining in.

"Sure," I said.

Even though I had never participated in any kind of team sports, I was familiar with the rules of this game. The fact that I was in tremendous physical shape didn't hurt either. Our team's opponents were good and I carefully analyzed the technique their best server used. He put spin on the ball as he struck it. When my turn came to serve, I sent the ball curving inches over the net at blazing speed. It landed in the sand before anyone on their team could even move a muscle. Everyone stood gawking at me. I served a second time in the same way and again, the serve was nonreturnable. After three more similar serves the leader of the opposing team grabbed the ball and annoyingly remarked, "Game over. We came here for a fun pick-up game—not to be toasted by a pro. How long have you been playing volleyball?"

"This is the first time I've actually ever played volleyball," I replied matter of factually.

He let out a string of profanity mixed with accusations of lying and cheating. Everyone else sided with him. I said nothing and simply walked away. Upon reaching the ocean's edge, I plopped down in the sand to watch the sun set. It was a beautiful, semi-ball of golden-reddish light slowly disappearing into the horizon. I sat there for a good while; musing about the trip.

"It is pretty, is it not?" suddenly asked a female voice on my left.

I turned my head in complete surprise to see a strikingly beautiful girl whom I had neither seen nor heard approach, now sitting next to me! Collar-length, dark brown hair, sumptuous lips, and lovely brown eyes were the highlight of a gorgeous face that I surmised was of Japanese ancestry.

"Yes it is," I replied while smiling at her. She smiled back and I got chills! _Man_ , _Peter certainly wasn't exaggerating when he said California girls are amazing,_ I thought. _Wow!_

"Watching the sun set is one of my favorite things to do," she remarked. "It brings a colorful closure to the day."

"I never thought of it that way before."

"My name is Reina Kobayashi."

"I'm Lance Rock; nice to meet you."

She nodded and then returned her gaze to the horizon. I did the same. We sat there quietly while listening to the sounds of the tide coming in, the seagulls crying, and while watching the occasional swimmer and surfer.

"I've always wanted to see the Pacific Ocean," I remarked—finally breaking the silence. "I think it's a lot nicer than the Atlantic."

"You are not from around here?" she asked.

"No. I'm from Canada. I'm here on the Student Exchange Program. I'm attending Santa Barbara Area Senior High School."

"I am going to the same school. Who are you staying with?"

"With a family named the Muller's."

"You are living with a mother and her two teenage daughters? That must be an interesting arrangement," she remarked while smiling.

I shrugged and nodded yes.

"You say you are from Canada but to me, you sound like an American."

"That's because I'm consciously suppressing my accent in order to fit in; in order not to draw attention to myself."

"Oh, that is interesting" she replied while now staring at me quizzically.

After a moment or two, she gently asked, "Is there something troubling you?"

This question took me back and I wasn't sure if I wanted to truthfully answer it. Finally, I replied, "I guess. How did you know?"

"I am a good reader of faces, and your expression is telling me that something is wrong."

"I'm impressed," I conceded and she responded with a broad grin.

_What a beautiful smile she has,_ I thought.

"I'm having... personal problems," I answered. "What grade are you in?" I asked in order to quickly change the subject.

"I am a senior," she replied. "Sometimes girls can be hard to understand."

My mouth dropped open and I stared at her. Then I nodded my head and said, "Yeah. Unfortunately, I'm finding that out the hard way. I mean..."

She playfully laughed and shook her head.

"I'm also a senior." I said while chuckling along with her.

Suddenly, I felt the pinky finger of her right hand slip over the pinky finger of my left hand. Then she smiled at me while flashing her eyes—instantly sending my hormonal level straight through the roof!

"Maybe... we'll... have some... of the same classes," I stammered with my heart pounding inside of my chest.

"Maybe we will."

"You have... a Japanese name and... appearance."

"Do I? I have to go. I am sorry. I will see you around school." She quickly got up and ran back toward the house.

"That would be nice!" I shouted after her. I regained my composure and looked at my watch. It was getting close to nine thirty and curfew was ten o'clock. I had to find the girls because according to Stacy's rules, it was now time to head home.

# Chapter 9

I walked back toward the vicinity of Keith's house where I had last seen Shannon. There were now a larger group of boys and girls mingling around. I spotted AJ. She looked like she had calmed down. I approached her and while pointing to my watch, I asked, "Isn't it time to go home?" She glanced at her watch and reluctantly agreed.

"Where's Shannon?" I asked.

She pointed in the direction of the pool. I made my way back over there.

Shannon was standing beside Keith. He was surrounded by a large group of athletic looking boys. There were also many girls hanging out with them. Shannon glanced over at me as I approached. I pointed at my watch and silently mouthed, "Time to leave." She turned her head—ignoring me. _Great,_ I thought. _If we're late for curfew I'll bet she tries to put the blame on me_. I came closer and asked, "It's time to go home, right?" Keith stopped talking to the guy next to him. Everyone else stopped what they were doing as well. Again, Shannon didn't respond but instead drew closer to Keith.

"Come on Shannon. It's almost curfew and we've got to go home. Remember your house rules about being home by ten o'clock?" I asked with annoyance.

At this statement everyone started to laugh. Shannon cringed, then nervously glanced around at everyone while looking embarrassed.

"Hey, I didn't make them," I remarked while also glancing around. "And I'm not going to shoulder the blame if they're broken."An angry expression came over Keith's face and I could see his muscles contracting. Some guy approached me. He was about six feet two inches tall, well built, and I estimated his weight at about 185 pounds.

"Why don't you chill out, Canuck?" he asked with irritation.

"Please leave him alone, Greg," said Shannon.

Greg ignored her and drew closer to me. I started to back up to try and keep some distance between us. I sensed the edge of the pool behind me. Suddenly, I felt something on the ground touch the back of my legs. As I glanced down to see what it was, Greg shoved me hard. I tripped backwards over the guy who was crouching down behind me and I went falling straight back into the pool!

I surfaced, and then swam over to the ladder with the noise of mocking laughter ringing in my ears. Now both humiliated and angry, I climbed out of the water and strode over to Greg. I wanted to challenge him to try it again, but I saw AJ out of the corner of my eye vigorously shaking her head no with a panicked look on her face. So I just stood there contemplating what to do next. After calming down, I walked past Greg and over to where Keith and Shannon were standing. Derisive comments and a trail of dripping water followed after me. I was through with talking. I only wanted to go home, _now_.

I attempted to reach out to take Shannon by the arm, but Keith pushed my hand away. I heard AJ shout, "LOOK OUT!" I turned my head in time to see Greg's fist coming straight at my nose! Her warning gave me just enough time to move my head aside and his knuckles drove into my left eye socket instead. There was an explosion of pain and lights followed by blackness.

I awoke sputtering and shaking off the water someone must have poured on my face. My head was spinning and throbbing. I tried to sit up, but I threw up instead. I was in the aftermath of a mild concussion. I could hear muffled voices and then I felt my body being lifted up. I was carried over to a car and then gently laid in the back seat. I now clearly heard Keith, Shannon, and AJ all conversing with each other. Keith was talking about taking me to the hospital. The girls got into the car which I now surmised was Shannon's, and we started driving. There was a lively discussion about what to do.

"Just take me home" I chimed in rather weakly.

"We're going to take you to the hospital," replied Shannon.

I sat up and groaned, "No. Take me... back... to your house." I fell back down in the seat. Shannon drove fast and we were soon pulling up into the driveway. I tried to crawl out of the car and the girls rushed over to help me. With an arm around each of their shoulders, they helped carry me into the house and then onto the couch in the family room. I was starting to feel light headed and detached. The telephone rang. I glanced down at my watch. It was ten o'clock. I could hear Shannon's voice saying, "Mom, there's been an accident. You'd better come home right away."

I asked AJ for some ice. I was annoyed at Shannon and I blamed her for the trauma I was now experiencing. AJ brought an ice-pack. Then she asked me how I felt and whether or not their mother was going to hear what happened. I said that she was indeed going to hear _all_ that happened and that I was thinking of suing them, Keith Mitterhauser, the guy who punched me, the school, and the whole state of California. I felt woozy. These remarks upset AJ, and so she went looking for her sister to spread the alarm.

Eventually, Shannon came over to the couch and calmly asked, "What do you want? My mother is going to be home any minute now."

Still feeling giddy I was tempted to say, "A goodnight hug and kiss." But since we weren't on the best of terms, I replied, "Nothing."

Stacy came home and the first thing she did when she saw me was to rush over while verbalizing her concern. Being a nurse, she immediately went to work gently feeling my face for fractures or anything broken while also trying to make me feel as comfortable as possible. The girls nervously stood around watching, or, I should say only AJ stood there since Shannon did not appear worried or concerned that her fate lay in my hands. I found her nonchalant attitude intriguing. Despite the fact that I thought she was directly to blame for my pain and suffering, I decided to cover for them both—concocting a story that was false but believable. AJ verified it, but Shannon said nothing. The painkiller that Stacy had administered to me was starting to kick in and I was feeling drowsy but better. Stacy asked if there was anything further she could do for me.

"No, I just want to go to bed and this couch will be fine." And that was that.

***

During the night, I had a restless sleep that was highlighted by a semi-conscious hallucination involving the presence of what I could only describe as a "shadow being." I sensed that a black, shadow-like figure was quietly and stealthily moving in and around the house. Its presence frightened me. At one point it came and stood before me while reaching down with one of its hands to gently caress my face.

"Please... don't hurt me, Mr. Shadow Man," I mumbled half conscious. Finally, it moved on and disappeared.

The next morning I woke up late. According to AJ, Stacy had already left for work and Shannon had left with Keith. The two of them had gone to join others at the private beach house of a friend. This meeting involved only the cheerleading squad which was co-captained by Shannon. AJ and I had the house to ourselves. I eventually got up and then I walked over to the downstairs bathroom mirror to have a look at my face. My left eye was encircled by a wicked looking bruise that was dark blue, green, yellow, and purple. AJ came into the room and after not finding me on the couch, called out my name. I answered her and she joined me in the bathroom.

"I want to thank you for warning me last night. If it weren't for you, my brains would have been splattered all over the pool."

"I feel bad that you got punched like that," she remarked sympathetically while grimacing at my eye.

"Knocked out cold," I reminded her while still staring at my face in the mirror.

"How are you feeling? Can I kiss it and make you feel better or do anything else for you? We _are_ all alone here you know," she suggestively remarked.

I looked over at her while slowly shaking my head in disbelief. "Let's you and I have a little talk, alright?"

"Okay."

"I am never going to get physical with you again. You are a very pretty girl, you have a great personality, and I would like to get to know you better. But only as a friend; nothing more intimate than that. Is that okay with you? Can we just be friends?"

"It's cool. We can be friends," she replied while coming over and embracing me.

"By the way, how and why are we all alone given your mother's instructions the other night?" I asked.

"Shannon told me to come with her, but I said I wasn't going to leave you here all by yourself with you being hurt and all."

"That was kind of you, AJ. Thank you for your concern. Now, I'll feel a lot better when this thing goes away," I continued while pointing to the bruise around my eye.

"It does blemish your super cute face. But I know it'll take at least a week to go away. That's how long my bruises take to heal."

"I haven't got a week. I'm not going to go to my first day of school tomorrow with this shiner and then have the people who saw me get punched mock me like they did last night. I'm going to make it disappear right now."

"How? You're joshing me, right?"

"No. Sitting with my luggage is a blue duffel bag. Open it and you'll find a modified BC vest. Bring it to me, please."

"What's a BC vest?"

"BC stands for buoyancy compensator. The kind of vest you see scuba divers wear."

"This is strange looking," she remarked upon returning with it and then laying it at my feet.

I unlocked several latches on the back of the vest and then slid a briefcase out of an oversized compartment.

"Could you open this case for me?" I asked while handing it to her.

"Sure," she replied while turning it over and over in her hands. After studying it for a moment she remarked, "I can't. There's a handle, but I don't see any way to open it."

"It can be opened in only two ways. One is by the concealed manual latch located on the bottom and the other is by lining up my thumbs like this." I pressed my thumbs on each side of the handle and there was a soft electronic hum as the fingerprint reader identified me. This was followed by a clicking sound as the case opened.

"That's neat. How does it work?"

The outer skin is made of metal rubber which is virtually indestructible and waterproof, yet allows electronics to be integrated into it. That's where the fingerprint scanner is located. Next, is a layer of material called 3DO. This is a soft, pliable, rubber-like substance that automatically hardens upon impact. The case's inner frame and panels are constructed from a titanium-molybdenum alloy making this entire briefcase lightweight, strong, and nearly indestructible. You could throw it off the Empire State Building and not damage it or its contents. If Superman were to carry a briefcase, this would be it."

"Wow! Why is it made that way? Is what's inside important and valuable?"

"Inside is specialized survival gear. That's all. I carry it in this particular briefcase because..."

"Because...why?"

"Because it's chill," I replied while grinning. "Don't you think this is the coolest looking briefcase you ever saw?"

She playfully laughed while I removed a bottle of liquid.

"Why do you carry survival gear around? Where did you get all this stuff?" she asked while examining several pieces in the case.

"I carry it around with me because you never know when you're going to encounter a situation when you're going to need it. It was given to me as a reward for hiking alone through 600 miles of Canadian wilderness in two months. I would have completed the trek sooner but for my encounter with that wolverine and those..." I did not finish the sentence as I quickly suppressed that awful memory.

"Smell this," I then said while unscrewing the lid and holding it under her nose.

She took a whiff and replied, "I don't smell anything."

"That's good."

"What is it?"

"It's called Dit Da Jow."

"Tic Tac Toe?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face.

"No, Dit... Da... Jow. It's a Chinese bruise liniment. I made it myself from herbs and other ingredients. It works strongest and best when it sits and ages just like wine and cheese." I walked back over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. "You have to be careful when applying it, though. It's for external use only. It speeds up blood circulation." I poured out a little onto my finger and carefully started to dab it around my eye while working it into the skin. To her astonishment, the colors of the bruise began to disappear as the congealed blood loosened and dissolved.

"That's amazing!" she exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like it! How did you know how to make it?"

"I've been studying martial arts intensely for 12 years now. I'm a martial arts master and that was part of my instruction."

She looked skeptical.

"It's true," I continued. "I've been trained in several styles of martial arts. I was one of my instructor's top students. I'm a lethal weapon."

"If you're such a lethal weapon, how come you got your butt kicked last night at Keith's house?" she asked while smiling playfully.

"Because I wasn't expecting to get _into_ a fight," I replied. "I'm ashamed to admit it, AJ, but I let my guard down. I also wasn't in combat mode. In my defense however, I came down here to go to school, not brawl with fellow students. I suppose I was being too naïve, though. Besides that, I didn't do anything to deserve being punched by Greg. I had no reason to believe he would attack me like that. What's up with that guy, anyway?"

"He's a bully. Just because he's a boxer, middle linebacker, and co-captain of the football team, he thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it because of his status. And like the other players, he always does. I'm sorry you got hurt. What's... combat mode?"

"Combat mode is... let's see... do you remember in the movie "Spiderman" when Peter Parker first acquires his powers after being bitten by the spider? His senses become acute to the point where he is completely aware of everything that's going on around him. That's what combat mode is like. It's a total awareness of everything going on around you in your environment; a heightened preparedness for anything and everything. The man who taught me it, my mentor, lived in it continuously. I haven't been able to train myself to the point where I'm in it to that extent. But I won't be caught off guard again. The next time any of those guys tries to attack me, they're the ones who are going to need this," I cautioned while holding up the bottle in front of her.

I could tell she wasn't completely convinced, however. "Let's go to the den. I think I saw some mats near the exercise equipment we can use. I'll give you a demonstration." I spread some of them out on the floor. "First, I'm going to warm up a little." She watched as I moved through a Yang-style form of T'ai Chi Chu'an.

"That looks like a slow kind of ballet," she remarked.

"If you were to break this form down, each one of these movements has a potential application for attack or defense." Next, I went through a fast Choy Li Fut form.

"Now _that_ looks pretty awesome. What else do you know?"

"Go ahead and try to attack me."

She came at me, but it quickly became obvious that she had no fighting skill or ability.

"Go find a broom or mop," I suggested.

Off she went. In a few moments she had come back with the kitchen broom. I unscrewed the whisk end and handed her the handle.

"I want you to swing this like a club and attack me." As she tried, I intercepted her before she could strike. Then, while using her own momentum, I threw her down and away from me onto the mats.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed. "That was awesome."

"Now, try it again. But this time, swing with all your might." As she stepped back, I focused my breathing and concentration. Again, she came at me swinging the handle with full force. This time however, I simply stood there, absorbing the impact of the blow. She screamed in shock as the wooden rod struck me across my chest.

"I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed apologetically while gently feeling my chest. "Why didn't you stop me like before? I didn't mean to hurt you! Are you alright?"

"It's okay. I'm not hurt."

"What? How _aren't_ you?"

"I went through training that has toughened parts of my body. Only an exceptionally hard punch can hurt me in that particular area."

"Wow! That's incredible!"

"Here, let me show you a simple, basic, self-defense technique that you can use if you're ever attacked. Say I was to grab you by the shoulders like this. How would you get away from me?"

"I guess I would try and push you back like this."

She tried to push me away, but I was immobile. No matter how hard she tried to twist, turn, or writhe out of my grip, I held her fast.

"Okay, you win. I guess I can't escape."

I released her and then I reached my hand down to the bottom part of the shin on her right leg. "You can kick me between my legs using this part of your body. Make sure that when you kick, it's with the bottom part of your shin and not your ankle and foot, or you'll hurt yourself. Now when I grab you, slowly try and kick me between my legs—and I mean _slowly_." I grabbed her, and she carefully raised her right leg until her shin touched the bottom of my crotch.

"If you kick hard enough—and with your muscular legs it _will_ be hard—you'll drop me in an instant. Don't worry about aiming. As long as your shin is in between my legs, you can slide it up against the inside of my thigh until it reaches the top. Then, _bang,_ I'm history, if you know what I mean," I remarked with a nervous grin.

She smiled playfully and asked, "Will it hurt _that_ much?"

"Yes, believe me, AJ, it will hurt that much. Just remember—kick as hard as you can."

"Okay," she replied while nodding her head.

We walked back to the family room and I sat down.

"I take it your sister is still ticked off at me?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Would talking to her do any good? Did I even have a chance with her? Was she even a little interested in me?"

"I think she was because I know that she definitely thinks you're a really good looking guy. But I know she also likes Keith. You should try to talk to her. Tell her how you feel."

"Let's go see her."

"We can't. She's at Jill Cruses' beach house up the coast near Goleta and we have no way of getting there. All the cars are gone."

"I saw another car in the third bay with a cover on it. Can't we take that one?"

A look of apprehension suddenly came over her face. "We're not allowed to go near that car. It belongs to my father."

"Your father? What's it doing here? Why does he keep it here?"

She wouldn't say anything more about it and then my smartphone rang. After a brief conversation I hung up. "Guess what? The airport found my guitar."

# Chapter 10

"We can get my guitar and then go up to Jill's house and I can talk to Shannon," I said.

AJ just stood there slowly shaking her head no while saying nothing.

"I'm sure your father won't mind if I borrow his car for a short time. Come on," I continued as I made my way over to the garage door. She half-heartedly followed me.

After entering the garage, I walked over to the car that was parked in the third bay. Starting at its front end, I grabbed the protective cloth covering and pulled it off. An overwhelming feeling of joy surged through me as I realized what I was staring at. It was a _rosso corsa_ or "racing red" colored Ferrari 308 GTS Quattrovalvole. I couldn't believe it. This was my second all-time favorite car. I had fallen in love with this car when I had first seen it on the show "Magnum P. I." I glanced over at AJ but she would not come any closer. It was as if there was an invisible line about six feet from the Ferrari that she refused to cross.

"My mother told us we were never, _ever_ to go near this car," she remarked with apprehension in her voice.

"It's okay, AJ. You don't have anything to worry about concerning your father or your mother. They won't even know that we've taken it." But she still refused to move. "Look, I need to get my guitar and I want to talk to Shannon. I'm sure your mother would understand that. So, I'm going to borrow it with or without you. It will only be for a couple of hours. I would prefer that you come along with me. I'll even put gas in it if that makes you feel better."

I walked back to where she was standing, gently took her by the arm, and then walked her over to the Ferrari. "See, nothing bad is going to happen." I opened the passenger door and helped her get in. Then I unlatched the targa top plate and placed it back behind the seats. I searched around for the ignition key but to my dismay, it was nowhere to be found. "Do you know where the keys are?"

She shook her head no.

"I'm not going to let that stop me."

"What do you mean?"

"It means I'm going to hot wire it."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Only if I was stealing it." I reached under the steering column and pulled out some wires. Then it occurred to me that I was going to need something to cut them with. "You wait here AJ; I'll be back in a minute."

After returning with my multi-tool, I cut the necessary wires and then re-spliced them. The car roared to life as I stepped on the accelerator. Fortunately, it was equipped with a GPS unit. I programmed the address for LAX into the GPS and then I backed out onto the street. While flooring the gas pedal, I released the clutch. The back tires screeched and spun wildly as I laid a 30 feet long patch of rubber on the road. We shot forward while a plume of thick, white smoke trailed us. Both AJ and I were thrown back against our seats!

"I can't believe I'm driving this car! It's incredible!" I excitedly exclaimed while glancing over at her. However, she looked terrified. She was clutching the edge of her seat with both hands and her face was pale with fright. "Come on AJ, relax," I encouraged. "Find us a radio station with some good cruising songs."

She began to fool around with the radio and she eventually found a station that played some classic 80's rock and roll. This helped her to relax.

At a red light a late model Corvette convertible pulled up alongside us in the left turning lane. The young, attractive, female driver looked over at me, smiled, and then remarked, "Sweet ride." I nodded in agreement. Her passenger, another cute girl, eyed me over the top of her sunglasses, smiled, and then said, "Hot driver." I felt myself blushing and she laughed. I watched them drive away and as the car behind me blew its horn in impatience, AJ kicked me and sarcastically remarked, "The lights green, _hot_ driver."

After arriving at the airport and retrieving my guitar, I then programmed the Galeto address into the GPS unit and we made our way out onto Highway 101. As we drove, I admired the beautiful interior and fine Italian craftsmanship of this stunning automobile. I noticed a carefully concealed radar detector and came up with the idea of adding a little excitement to the trip. I scanned the road ahead of us—waiting for the right opportunity. One finally presented itself, so I switched on the detector while warning AJ, "Hang on! I'm going to open her up."

I floored the accelerator and the engine roared in delight. The speedometer needle began to rapidly rise and we were soon doing 100 miles an hour. I could feel the outside air pressure compressing the car onto the road. I kept on accelerating, and the speedometer hit 130 miles per hour. "WE'RE DOING A HUNDRED AND THIRTY!" I shouted with my voice barely audible above the noise of the rushing wind and the whining motor. AJ raised her arms and screamed like she was going downhill on a roller coaster with a huge smile on her face. I saw a curve in the road as well as on-coming traffic rapidly approaching and so I safely decelerated. "Wow, that was incredible, eh?" I said while looking over at her.

"Let's do it again."

"Well, technically it _is_ breaking the law. But I'll think about it. Shannon doesn't know the fun she's missing," I said while smiling.

We continued driving, and the highway began to hug the coastline. As I gazed over on my left, I could see dark storm clouds in the distance forming on the horizon. The wind blowing in from the ocean had picked up with considerable force. Huge breakers were rolling and crashing on the shore.

"See those waves," I said to AJ while motioning to my left. "They're caused by the wind pushing the water against the land. That makes it extremely dangerous for swimming. I wouldn't want to have to lifeguard on a day like today."

"What beach did you lifeguard on?" she asked.

"I was a lifeguard at a pool. I'm not qualified to be a beach lifeguard."

She looked at me with a surprised expression on her face.

We were soon approaching the address of Jill's house. The wind was blowing hard but the sun was still shining brightly. I followed a tree-lined side road down to Jill's driveway. We pulled in and I parked the car alongside several others. I followed AJ around to the back of the house. As I turned the corner, I was startled to see a half-dozen girls swimming in the water. We walked over to where Keith, Shannon, and other girls had congregated down on the beach. I scanned the ocean searching for any indications of danger.

As we approached the group, Shannon looked my way in surprise and then slowly moved closer to Keith. All of them were staring at my face.

"Shannon, I really need to have a talk with you," I said.

Keith shook his head incredulously and said, "Listen up, doofus. I told you to stay away from my girlfriend. What part of the term _stay away_ don't you understand?"

"From what I _understand_ , the two of you are not going steady. Am I right?" He did not reply but I could see his muscles starting to tense. "If you're not going steady, then she's technically not your girlfriend and I'm free to do with her what I want _._ "

Upon hearing this remark, a look of disbelief came over Shannon's face. All the girls standing near her also glanced at each other in surprise. I immediately realized that this statement had not come out the way I had intended. Keith adjusted his stance, so I adjusted mine as well. All at once, someone came running up from the water's edge while screaming and motioning toward the ocean. I looked in the direction that they were pointing and to my shock, I saw a girl being swept out to sea. She was struggling to fight against the current, but it was too strong and she was not making any progress. Instead, she was being dragged further and further away. I glanced at Keith and Shannon and exclaimed, "That girl's in serious trouble! She's caught in a rip current. Somebody better call 911!"

Keith immediately took off running toward the water. "He'll help her," said Shannon calmly. "He's a champion swimmer." We stood watching as he dashed into the water and began swimming toward the girl who was rapidly losing her battle to return to shore.

"Who is that girl?" I asked.

"Her name is Lori Cheponis," Shannon replied.

"She should have known better than to be swimming in conditions like this. You all should have," I scolded. Shannon stared at me but said nothing. We turned our attention back to Keith. It was evident that he was being overly cautious as he tried to make his way out to Lori. All at once and to my complete disbelief, he turned around and began to swim back to shore.

"Call 911 _now_!" I ordered. Shannon quickly nodded her head in acknowledgment. I pulled my shirt up over my head and discarded it. Next, I removed my sneakers and socks. I rushed down to the ocean wearing only my shorts. Keith was just coming out of the water and as I attempted to pass him, he firmly grabbed my arm. While shaking his head no he gasped, "Don't even think... of trying it. The current's... too strong. You'll never make it. Believe me." I stared at him for a brief second, and then I pulled my arm free of his grasp.

I charged toward the rip current and when the depth of the water was deep enough, I dove headfirst into it and began to swim—all the while knowing that I was unprepared to handle this crisis properly. I did not have a rescue board or any other kind of floatation device. But a girl's life was at stake, and I had to give it my best shot—I just had to. The current quickly enveloped me. Keith was right; it was a fast rip—flowing at what I estimated to be between six to eight feet per second.

I swam as hard as I could and with the current carrying me along, I knew I was setting an unbreakable world speed record. I glanced up and I estimated that Lori was now about 200 feet away. She was also floundering—having exhausted all her strength. However, I was closing the distance fast and I would soon be in reach of her.

Thirty feet from her, the current finally dissipated. I yelled to her and encouraged her to hang on. She looked at me with terror in her eyes and then sank beneath the waves! My heart sank with her.

I quickly swam to where I had last seen her. I began to dive under the water while desperately searching for her. The water was cloudy and visibility was limited to about two feet. I frantically began to swing my arms around while reaching out in all directions. Again and again I dove under water, but it was deep and I began to despair. _No. Don't give up. Keep looking. Keep trying._ I thought. I made one last mental calculation as to where I thought her body should be and then I dove down deep with my hands flailing out in all directions. Finally, my fingers came into contact with some hair. I pulled her toward me while trying to feel for the rest of her body. I held her close as I surfaced while gasping for air. She was unconscious, I was nearly exhausted, and I was over 400 feet away from shore!

I held her body against mine while turning onto my side and then began to side-swim like a man possessed! My legs were like pistons churning the water and I motored myself in the direction of the beach. My adrenaline was also flowing freely and this gave me the energy to do what was seemingly an impossible task—get this girl on land and perform CPR on her before she died of oxygen deprivation.

I must have looked like a little motorboat leaving a trail in the water to anyone looking down from above. I had an estimated two to three minute window to save her. What could only have been seconds felt like hours as my legs and free arm propelled us along. My legs were burning from the kicking effort but the cold water was cooling the discomfort.

Then unexpectedly, I hit a wall of fatigue. My legs though trained and shaped by years of exercise, had been pushed to their physical limit and they were now quitting on me. "Keep going," I ordered them. But it was no use. My energy was spent. I had failed.

Anguish was filling my heart when I heard splashing in front of me. My feet touched bottom as I stood up and then realized that I was standing in water that was only four feet deep. Keith approached us and I handed Lori off to him. He took her in his arms and then hurriedly carried her to shore as I heard the wailing of an ambulance's siren approaching the house. I tried walking but it was more like a stumbling shuffle. When I was close enough to land, I collapsed on all fours and then I crawled out of the water and onto the sand. I toppled over onto my back with my lungs gasping for air. I stared up at the cloud filled sky and closed my eyes while still breathing heavily.

I was wet, cold, and now covered in sand as well. After a few minutes, I became aware of a presence standing above me. I slowly opened my eyes. Bending over and staring down at me was a paramedic.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

I slowly nodded my head yes.

"You know," he remarked in a rebuking tone of voice, "If you kids insist in swimming on unguarded beaches, you should at least be aware of the danger of rip currents. More people playing in the ocean drown from rip currents than from any other reason. Think about that the next time you decide to go swimming in conditions like this." And after having lectured me, he turned and ran back up to the house.

I lay there a good while. AJ finally came over and asked me if I was alright.

I nodded yes. "How's... Lori?"

"They took her to the hospital. She was awake in the ambulance. Keith rode with her."

"That's... great... news."

"I want you to know, Lance Rock, that I think you're an awesome lifeguard—pool _or_ ocean."

"Thanks, AJ. I appreciate that," I replied while sighing.

"They're having lunch in the house if you want to come up and join us."

"Sounds... good."

I made my way back up the beach to collect my shoes and shirt while brushing off sand as I walked along. My legs still ached. I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. I bent over to retrieve my shirt and then shook the sand off of it. As I slipped it over my head, I realized that I could no longer feel the weight of the chain and key around my neck. I reached up to touch it, but it was no longer there. It was gone! My heart felt like ice as a feeling of panic quickly engulfed me. I frantically began to scan the ground. I got down on my all fours and slowly and carefully sifted through the sand. I searched meticulously, but to no avail. AJ had come back out and asked what I was doing. I informed her about my dilemma and she began to help me look. She went inside the house to see if there was anyone else who'd be willing to join in. I got to my feet and began to slowly and carefully retrace the steps I had taken in my run down to the water. Minutes passed. At the ocean's edge, I stared out at the waves.

"If you lost it out there you'll never find it," she remarked dejectedly.

I stared at her, now emotionally overcome. I plopped down on the sand with tears filling my eyes. AJ sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Lance. There's nothing you can do. Come on back up to the house."

"You go. I've got to search a little while longer."

I got up and again, slowly retraced my steps back up to the house while kicking the sand and hoping the key would somehow appear. Finally, I went inside the house with my head hung down—both depressed and heartbroken. I was physically exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and now emotionally drained as well. Inside the house, music was playing and the girls from the cheerleading squad were mingling around while talking to each other. AJ led me into the kitchen and I plopped myself down at the counter.

"Would you like something to drink and eat?" she asked. I nodded yes. She walked over to the fridge. Shannon was standing in front of it while holding a drink and talking to another girl. And hanging around her neck was my chain and key...

# Chapter 11

Upon seeing her wearing it, I was immediately overwhelmed by feelings of relief and joy! Those feelings however, were quickly replaced by anger and resentment. She _knew_ I had been out there looking for it and here she had it the whole time. I forced myself up and hobbled over to her.

"Do you think you're funny, playing me like that?" I snapped. Everyone in the room stopped talking, including Shannon. She turned and faced me with a look of resignation in her eyes. "Do you know what you just _did_ to me?" I continued now getting angrier. "I _told_ you that key is my most personal and precious possession. And here you had it all this time knowing I was out there searching for it for over half an hour. You just put me through hell for no reason. _Give_ it to me! GIVE IT TO ME, _NOW_!" I shouted.

I held out my left hand. Her expression now became one of fear and I followed her gaze down to my right hand which was clenched in a fist. She put down her drink and hurriedly tried to slip the chain up over her head. Her hands were shaking nervously and she fumbled twice. Then she hastily walked on by—dropping the chain in my open hand while avoiding any eye contact with me.

I heard a girl's voice behind me quietly remark, "He's a complete _jerk_." There were many other more graphic and profane remarks being murmured about me as well. I glanced down at my fist and I relaxed it. I sat back down at the counter and stared at my food. A few minutes later the cheerleaders began leaving until Jill and I were the only ones who remained.

"You have to go now," she said. "I'm going home and locking up the house."

"I... I don't know what came over me," I quietly remarked while looking at her, slowly shaking my head in remorse, and now feeling ashamed. "I shouldn't have lost my temper and yelled at her like that. I'm... sorry." She stared at me but said nothing.

I exited out the back door and slowly walked toward the front of the house where the Ferrari was parked. AJ had already left with Shannon. I got in the car and headed back to the Muller's house while stopping to get some gas along the way. My legs were slowly recuperating and I knew that they would feel even better after a good rub down with liniment. I tried to cheer myself up with the knowledge that I had saved Lori Cheponis' life, but it was hard.

After parking the car, I grabbed my guitar case from the front trunk. As I made my way out of the garage and into the foyer, I saw Stacy, Shannon, and AJ all sitting around the kitchen table. As soon as Shannon and AJ saw me, they got up from the table and bolted upstairs. I walked into the kitchen and before I even had a chance to put my guitar case down, Mrs. Muller approached me. She looked furious and upset!

"Who gave you permission to take that car?" she asked in a loud, accusatory tone.

I didn't reply.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you!"

"No one," I calmly answered.

"Who do you think you are coming into my house and doing and taking whatever you want? Do you know the trouble you might just have brought on us? Is it true that with my daughter in that car, you were driving over 100 miles an hour?"

Again, I did not respond.

"Answer my questions, young man!"

I nodded my head yes _._

"Is it also true that you lied to me about how you got injured last night, that you tried to break into Teri's room, and that just a short time ago you threatened Shannon?"

I put the guitar case down and turned to walk away.

"You _stand_ here and _face_ me when I'm talking to you!"

I turned around and faced her.

"When Charlene Colson asked me if I could help her by taking you into my home, she assured me that you were an honor student and a respectable, well-behaved, young man. That was the only reason I agreed to do it. But you have shown yourself to be anything _but_ that. You are a reckless, brash, nosy, hothead and you are no longer welcome in this house. After dinner, I'm driving you to a hotel. Until that time, I want you to stay away from my daughters—don't go _near_ them. Understand? Now go pack your bags!"

I picked up the guitar and walked into the family room just as the phone rang. After retrieving some bruise liniment and a fresh set of clothes, I went upstairs to take a long, hot shower. AJ's bedroom door was open, and so I walked over to it and stood in the doorway. She was sitting on the edge of her bed and looked up at me with a worried expression. Then she whispered, "It wasn't me. It was Shannon."

"I know," I whispered back.

"I'm _really_ sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

I could hear Mrs. Muller coming up the stairs, so I rushed into the bathroom. She knocked on the bathroom door and I cracked it open. While staring at me with a confused expression on her face, she said, "Cheryl Cheponis is on the phone. She's inviting you over to her house for dinner tonight. She says she wants to meet the boy who saved their daughter's life at the beach today."

"Sure. Tell her I'll join them for dinner."

She continued to stare at me with that same bewildered expression. Then she turned and went back downstairs. I jumped in the shower and let the hot water pour over me for a long time. After showering, I gave my legs a vigorous rub down with the liniment. I then dressed and went down to the kitchen. Stacy and Shannon were sitting at the table talking. Shannon glanced up as I entered the room, but then quickly averted her eyes. Stacy said, "They'll be here in 15 minutes and they said to bring your bathing suit if you want."

"Okay, I'll bring it. But I've honestly had my fill of swimming for today."

A car soon pulled up in front and I went out to meet it. After sliding into the passenger's seat, I was greeted with, "Hi, I'm Cheryl Cheponis, Lori's mom. You're Lance, right?"

"Yes ma'am."

"It's nice to meet you. When we met Lori at the hospital, Keith Mitterhauser was there with her. Since he's on the swim team and is dating Shannon Muller, we assumed he was there with the girls at the beach when this accident happened and that he was the one who had rescued her. But Lori said that she thought it was another boy who had swum out to rescue her. She kept insisting it wasn't Keith. We thought she might be... you know... a little delirious. Then Keith confessed that it was a boy that was staying with the Muller's who had saved her. That's why I called Stacy to invite you over. She sounded surprised to hear this story. Didn't you or Shannon mention anything to her about it?"

"I guess I never really got the chance to do that before you called their house."

"Well, I haven't personally told you this yet, but thank you for saving my daughter's life."

"You're welcome."

Two minutes later we were at her house.

"We don't live that far away, but driving is quicker than walking," she remarked while smiling.

I stepped out of the car and then followed her into a large two-story home. Lori walked out of the living room and greeted us. She appeared shy. Her father came over and upon seeing my physique, greeted me with, "Another football player, I take it?"

"No. I'm not into football."

"Good for you. The school already caters enough to those meat heads."

I heard people coming down from the second floor and I glanced up to see a boy who I guessed to be Lori's younger brother. And following him to my astonishment was Reina Kobayashi!

"You live _here_?" I asked with surprise as she sauntered down the stairs.

"Do you two know each other?" asked Cheryl.

"We met on the beach last night at Keith's party."

"Then I guess you already know that Reina is a foreign exchange student from Japan who is going to be staying with us this school year."

"No. Actually, I didn't know that. We only met for a brief moment."

"Hello, Lance-san, or should I say, hero-san," remarked Reina while smiling and flashing her eyes. I started to feel butterflies in my stomach.

"Did you bring your bathing suit?" asked Cheryl. "Would you like to go for a dip in the pool before we eat supper?"

"Yes, I did bring it. But to be honest with you, I've kind of had my fill of swimming today."

"We have a hot tub, if you would like to go soak in that."

"A hot tub? That would be fantastic."

"Lori, take Lance up to your room and show him where he can change."

"I will take him up to my room and he can change there," interjected Reina quickly, "If that is alright with him."

"Sure. I guess... I mean... it doesn't matter to me."

I followed her up the stairs and into her room. She closed the door behind us, smiled at me, and then began to unbutton her shirt.

"Whoa! Whoa! _Whoa_ "! I exclaimed in surprise. "Wait a minute. We're not getting changed in the same room at the same time."

Reina playfully laughed and said, "I know. I was only teasing you." She slowly moseyed on by me while brushing her body up against mine before exiting out the door. _Teasing my eye,_ I thought as I locked it and took a deep, relaxing breath.

The hot tub felt fabulous. Lori and I sat opposite each other. She kept staring at me but would quickly avert her gaze whenever I stared back. It was making me feel a little uncomfortable.

"Is Reina or your brother going to join us?" I asked.

"I think she'll be down soon."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving my life," she softly said.

"You're welcome. I'm a lifeguard. It was my duty. You're a junior, right?"

"Uh-huh. Those tattoos on your arms; are they for good luck?"

"They're not really meant for good luck. Do you read Chinese?"

"No. It's just that Reina has almost the same kind of tattoo and when I asked her what it meant, she said it was for good luck."

"I never noticed any tattoo on her arms."

"It's on her lower back."

"Huh. If I get a chance, I'll see if I can read it and let you know what it says."

"Okay," she replied while smiling.

Reina soon joined us wearing a skimpy, blue bikini. Her body was a perfect blend of muscularity and femininity in one complete cornucopia of curvaceousness. My hormones awoke with a jump-start! She slid into the hot tub and submerged herself in the water up to her neck—much to my relief. But in an instant she was by my side. Under the cover of the bubbles and foam, she rested her left hand on top of my right thigh. She gently caressed it while smiling innocently and then began making conversation like nothing sneaky was going on.

If it's possible for a person to sweat under water, I was now doing it! Then her hand began to slowly creep up my thigh toward my groin, so I quickly moved my right hand down to intercept it. As I seized her wrist, she responded by grabbing my inner thigh so hard I yelped in pain and shock! Lori stared at me suspiciously while Reina turned and naively asked, "Are you alright, Lance-san? Is there something wrong?"

At last and to my relief, Mrs. Cheponis called out that dinner was ready and to come in to the house to eat. As Reina exited the tub, I followed her while trying to focus my eyes on the tiny tattoo inked onto the small of her back just above her behind. This was a difficult challenge because as she walked, her hips swayed in a sensuous, circular, motion that could only be described as "synchronized sin."

I laughed and Lori asked, "Is the writing Chinese?"

"No," I replied. "It's Kanji."

She looked at me puzzled.

"It's Japanese," I remarked.

"Does it mean good luck?"

"Nope. It reads kunoichi _._ "

"What does that mean?"

"In ancient Japan, a kunoichi was a female shinobi."

"A female what _?_ "

"A female ninja or assassin. They specialized in the art of seduction."

"Female ninja? Why would she have a tattoo of that?"

"I don't know. Probably the same reason someone would have a tattoo of Superman's S symbol, or Batman's bat symbol. I guess for her and other Japanese girls, a kunoichi is a folk hero."

At length, we all sat down at the dinner table and Reina sat across from me. To my relief, she did not try to engage in any foot play. As we ate, Mr. Cheponis asked, "It's my understanding that you're also an exchange student from Canada?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you're staying with Stacy Muller and her girls?"

"I was supposed to be staying with Mike and Charlene Colson. But since Mr. Colson is in the hospital, Mrs. Colson asked Mrs. Muller if she could put me up until another host family can be found. I'm really only staying there temporarily."

"Yes, I heard about Mike Colson. That's too bad. I'd offer to have you stay here, but we already have an exchange student and there's no additional room."

"He can stay with me in my room any time," remarked Reina quietly in Japanese under her breath.

"I wouldn't mind doing that, kunoichi," I replied in the same language. "However, since there's only room in your bed for one person, you'd have to sleep on the couch." Her eyes grew large, her mouth dropped open, and her face began to turn red as she stared at me in complete shock.

"Did I just miss something or were you now speaking Japanese?" asked Mr. Cheponis while staring at me inquisitively.

"Apparently, there is more to him than meets the eye," remarked Reina admiringly after having recovered from her shock. Then in Japanese she said, "But what meets my eyes is sexy hot."

Now it was my turn to blush. I reached with my left hand to get the salt shaker. Before I could take it however, Reina grabbed my forearm and turned it inside up. She studied the tattoo and said aloud, "Honor and courage."

"I'm impressed," I remarked while nodding my head in acknowledgement.

"Let me see your other arm," she said.

"No," I replied.

"Please, I'd like to know what it says," said Lori.

"You have to honor your hostess, Lance-san," remarked Reina in Japanese while smiling.

I rolled my eyes while turning my right forearm up so she could read the tattoo. She silently mouthed the words and then stared at me inquisitively.

"Well?" asked Lori. But Reina said nothing.

"Are you trying to tell me, kunoichi, that you've never noticed these tattoos until now?" I asked in Japanese.

"My eyes were always focused on _other_ parts of your body," she replied while flashing her eyes.

Once again, I could feel my face becoming hot and flushed.

"How about we all speak English now," said Mr. Cheponis. "This _is_ America you know."

It _was_ getting awkward and Cheryl said, "Is anyone ready for dessert?"

"I am," quickly replied Mr. Cheponis.

After supper Reina approached Mrs. Cheponis and asked, "Lance has asked me to go for a walk with him. Is that okay with you?"

"I guess," replied Cheryl in surprise. "But don't be gone too long. I do have to get him back to the Muller's sometime tonight."

"Reina, you're too bold," I remarked in Japanese while laughing.

"Let us get away from here," she replied while taking me by the hand.

I had no objections, and so we exited the house and began to walk down the street toward a park that was a short distance away while conversing in Japanese as we went.

"Where did you learn to speak my language?" she asked.

"My mentor taught me it."

"Where did you learn to read Traditional Chinese?" I asked.

"My Godfather taught me _._ Do you think I am pretty?"

I stood there staring at her while shaking my head in amazement at her continual audacity. Finally, I replied, "Yes, I actually think that you're remarkably beautiful—one of the prettiest girls I have ever seen."

She smiled happily. "Why did you come to this American school?"

"I needed to get away from home. This school wasn't too far away and as good a place as any to come to. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I came here to learn how to speak English," she replied while smiling and flashing her eyes mischievously.

"But you speak it... perfectly."

She continued to smile, but said nothing more.

We walked down to the park, sat on some swings, and then headed back while talking about all manner of subjects. In commenting on her incredible physique, I asked if she was into martial arts, athletics, or some kind of organized sports.

"I am pleased to know that you cannot keep your eyes off of my body," she answered while smiling seductively and again, flashing her eyes.

Once again my face turned red as I slowly shook my head in disbelief. "You are _way_ too much," I laughed while now switching back to English.

"Too much for you to handle?" she asked while again laughing playfully.

I smiled and sighed. We continued to walk and talk, and we soon found ourselves back at the Cheponis'.

"I guess I'll see you sometime in school tomorrow."

"See you, Lance-san. I had fun this evening." She waved goodbye and then ran upstairs to her room. Lori looked disappointed when we came back and I felt bad for having deserted her.

"I guess I'd better get home now," I said to Mrs. Cheponis.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, and thanks for having me over."

Mr. Cheponis shook my hand and said, "Thanks for what you did today. If you ever need any kind of favor, you just let me know."

"You're welcome, and thanks for the offer."

I was driven back to the Muller's. As I entered the house, Stacy greeted me with, "It's late now. I'll take you to a hotel tomorrow."

This sobering statement immediately ruined what had otherwise been a fairly enjoyable evening.

# Chapter 12

"Lance!"

"Eh?"

"Lance, get up," said Stacy while shaking me.

"What?"

"You have got to get up for school."

"School?"

"Yes, school. Now get up or you're going to be late."

"Alright, alright," I groaned. I forced myself to sit up and rubbed my eyes while looking around. While yawning, I asked, "Where's everyone else?"

"Shannon and AJ left already. I'll drop you off on my way to work. You need to be ready to go in 10 minutes."

I dug around in my luggage for some clean clothes and then dragged myself to the bathroom to change. Next, I went into the kitchen.

"What about some breakfast?" I asked.

"Here's a pop-tart. You don't have time to eat a big breakfast. Do you have money to buy yourself some lunch?"

"Yeah, somewhere around here," I replied in a grumbling tone. "I don't even like pop-tarts."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"You don't have time to look for it. Here's 10 dollars. Let's get going."

"Okay, thanks."

I tried to catch some more sleep during the trip to school. At length, we pulled up to the main entrance. As I exited the car, I thanked her for the ride. _My first day of public school since First Grade_ , I thought. _I'm not even sure where I'm supposed to go._ I looked around to see if I could find a familiar face. I saw Keith with a couple of his pals. They spotted me and then started heading in my direction. I was in no mood for any kind of confrontation with him.

"Did I hear that you threatened my girlfriend yesterday?" he challenged while approaching me. "I'm done telling you to stay away from her," he continued when he was about four feet away.

"And I'm tired of you _telling_ me to stay away from her," I replied with my voice level rising. "You are not her boyfriend no matter how much your deluded, egotistical mind wants to believe it. You're just a rich, spoiled, brat who's used to getting everything he wants, but not this time. I'm going to make Shannon _my_ girlfriend and there's nothing you can say or do to stop me. Now back off and stay out of my face," I warned while pointing a finger at him. I noticed he was now looking past me, so I carefully turned my head and followed his gaze. It was directed at Shannon who along with some other girls was standing a couple of feet away. She stared at me with an incredulous look on her face while slowly shaking her head. A discomforting feeling began to form in the pit of my stomach.

"I've had enough of your big, arrogant mouth, too," Keith continued. "You and I, right here, right now." He handed his book bag to one of his friends. A crowd was rapidly gathering.

"Didn't your instructor teach you to only use your martial arts training for self-defense?" I asked.

"I'm not going to need martial arts to kick your—"

"Won't I get in trouble if I trash you on school property?" I defiantly interjected.

"You most certainly will," remarked a gentleman standing behind Keith.

"Good morning, Mr. Taylor," said Keith while now turning to face him.

"Mr. Mitterhauser," said Mr. Taylor. "I expected better behavior out of you."

"I did, too," I remarked sarcastically.

"And you are?" asked Mr. Taylor, while now focusing his attention on me.

"I'm Mr. Rock. Mr. Lance Rock," I said while extending my hand.

He ignored my handshake offer and said, "I've never seen you before. Are you a new student?"

"I'm an exchange student from Canada."

"Ah, yes, now I remember your name; one of the two exchange students who will be joining us this year."

"Well I'm not sure how long I'm going to be joining you if I keep getting bullied around like this. I mean, it's only the first day of school and this student has just threatened to beat me up for no reason," I said while pointing a finger at Keith.

Mr. Taylor glared at him disapprovingly.

"Ah, we were only horsing around," said Keith. "No big deal." He leered at me and then turned and left while mumbling something under his breath to his friends.

"Can I assist you?" asked Mr. Taylor, now directing his attention back on me.

"You most certainly can," I replied matter of factually while both giving him a list of what areas I needed help in and glancing around to see if I could spot Shannon.

"Follow me, then."

"Are you a teacher?" I asked.

He stopped, stared at me with raised eyebrows, and then replied, "Young man, I am the principal."

***

After an informative session with Mr. Taylor, I was now sitting in our class homeroom. The teacher was taking roll call. My gaze was fixed on Keith and Shannon who were sitting next to each other. I looked around the room at the mostly unfamiliar faces.

Sometimes I would make eye contact with a girl and she would smile at me and as a courtesy, I would smile back. The guys ignored me. Jill Cruse was also in my homeroom. She did not smile when I made eye contact with her. Being back in a public school was going to take a lot of getting use to.

Biology was my first class of the morning and Keith, Shannon, and Reina were in it.

"Konichiwa, kunoichi," I said to Reina.

She smiled and said, "I had a good time last night."

"I did, too."

"There is a back-to-school dance on Thursday night. Do you want to go together?" she asked.

"Let me think about it and I'll get back to you."

"For this class you will need to team up with a lab partner," said Mr. Baker, the teacher. I looked over at Shannon and she looked back at me for a brief second. Keith got up and sat beside her and she turned to talk to him. I looked around and some guy was asking Reina if he could be her partner. She looked over at me and raised her eyebrows in a questioning glance. I beckoned her to come over. She politely declined the other student's offer and made her way over to me. She sat down, turned to me, and smiled. I smiled back. I noticed Shannon staring at us and then quickly avert her gaze when I made eye contact with her.

After several more classes it was lunch period. I made my way over to the cafeteria. It was currently being expanded under a school renovation project. At one end was the ongoing construction and at the other end were the tables, chairs, condiments table, and the kitchen. As I walked through the lunch line ordering my food, I noticed that the students were crammed around all but four of the tables. I also observed Shannon and Keith sitting next to each other. I made my way over to one of the empty tables and set my food tray down.

"Hey, Canada," remarked Jill Cruse while walking over to me. "Unless you're on the football team, and I know you're not, you can't sit there. Those four tables are reserved for players only."

"What? You're kidding me, right?"

"No, I'm not. Why don't you come and sit over here," she suggested while gesturing me to follow her.

"That doesn't seem fair that they should get four tables to themselves," I remarked while squeezing into a space that some other students kindly provided for me.

"Football is king in this school. You'd better get used to it," remarked a boy who introduced himself as Bob Wilson.

"That's still not fair," I replied. "Even if the whole team should come in and eat at one time, four tables would still provide more room than they could possibly use. And here we are jammed together like sticky buns."

"If you think that's not fair, watch what happens next," said Bob. Several students, whom I surmised were players, came strutting into the room. One of them was Greg Schulman. Instead of standing in line to purchase food, they began to walk around from table to table helping themselves to whatever they wanted from other student's lunches.

"There's _no way_ they are allowed to get away with that," I remarked while shaking my head in disbelief. But apparently no one objected except for one kid. He made it clear that they were not going to touch his stuff.

"Why isn't anyone else standing up for themselves like that guy?" I asked.

Ignoring my question, Bob, who was looking over at the kid, remarked, "He's new in school, isn't he?"

"Yup, he is," said Jill. "I think his name is Brian."

"I feel sorry for him," said Bob.

One of the players had made his way over to our table. Everyone but Jill had a look of apprehension.

"I wish I was on the cheerleading squad," remarked a girl whose name was Darlene.

"They leave us alone," said Jill. "I guess they consider us to be like a sorority."

The player was now standing behind Darlene and eying her French fries. He reached his right hand down to take a handful. I intercepted it and grabbed his wrist with my left hand while bending it down hard and sharp. Now wincing in pain, he stared at me in fear with his eyes bulging.

"Why don't you come back after she's done eating? I suggested. "If there are any leftovers, _then_ you can stuff your face until your heart's content. Is that okay with you?" I continued while bending his wrist down even harder. He rapidly shook his head yes and I released my grip. He walked away from the table while both continuing to stare at me in fear and tenderly rubbing his wrist.

"Thank you," said Darlene. Everyone at our table glanced at each other in surprise.

"You're welcome," I replied. "Who was that guy? He seems to be a little scrawny and sickly looking to be playing football."

"His name is Ron Boyle," replied Bob. "He's a wide receiver and a snot-nosed wuss. The only reason he's even _on_ the team is because his father is head of the school board. From what I've heard, the other players don't even care for him. They simply tolerate him. You know, I didn't even see your hand _move_."

Jill looked at me, smiled, and then shook her head in admiration.

"I've heard of bullying going on in schools, but never on such an organized level," I remarked while glancing around.

"Like Bob said," replied Jill. "The football kings rule in this school."

"You mean football thugs," I answered. "I find it hard to believe the school administration tolerates this and doesn't do anything about it."

"Football means everything to this school," she continued. "This school has a state championship level team and they win it almost every year. The players are practically worshiped. Winning football championships equals huge financial donations and probably kickbacks, too. Nobody, including the administration, is going to rock the boat. That's the way it has always been and probably will be. Better get used to it, Canada."

The injustice of it galled me. But it was beyond my control. I focused my attention back on Shannon. Bob, while noticing who I was staring at, unexpectedly remarked, "If you're thinking of asking Shannon out to try and get some, forget it."

"Eh?" I replied while raising my eyebrows.

"If you're looking to try and get into her pants, you're wasting your time. For as long as I've known her no guy has ever been able to."

"A few girls admire her, others think she's a prude, but most could care less either way," added Jill. "But I know that even though none would openly admit it, I'll bet they all respect her for sticking to her conviction. I certainly do."

"And what would that be?" I asked.

"What would _what_ be?" asked Jill.

"Her conviction."

"That she's saving herself for her future husband."

"I'm one of those who could care less," remarked Bob, derisively. "All I know is that the only true goddess in the state of California goes to this high school but she carries a sign around her neck that reads: 'You can look, but you can't touch.'"

"Like you would even have a chance to touch anyways," sarcastically remarked Jill to Bob.

"Hey, I can fantasize like every other guy in this cafeteria," he replied.

"I think I know one guy who has a chance," said Darlene.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"The hottie who's sitting next to her; Keith Mitterhauser. He's rich, popular, athletic, and cute!"

"I might have to agree," said Bob in a conceding tone. "No girl can resist all that. I so totally envy him. I'd bet my money that he gets to score with her first."

Lunch break was now over and we got up to leave. On our way out of the cafeteria, Jill stopped me. "I also noticed the way you were looking at her. This is really none of my business...but umm...in spite of your little tirade yesterday, do you really _want_ to ask her out?"

"Yeah, I want to. But what chance do I have against a guy like Keith?"

"Listen to me, Canada, if you want to win her heart, do something that will genuinely impress her."

"Genuinely _impress_ her?"

She nodded her head. "Remember yesterday at my house when you—"

"Do cheerleaders practice at the same time as the football team?" I suddenly asked. I had just come up with an idea.

"Normally they do but—"

"Is there football practice today?"

"Yes. There's one right after school."

"And the cheerleaders will be there, right?"

"Yes they will. But why—"

"I have to go and talk to the coach. Thanks for your help." I ran down the hall to find the athletic department.

***

"Did you see all the championship pennants lining the back wall when you came through the front doors this morning?" asked Coach Pernell while sitting behind his desk and sizing me up.

"Yes sir, I did."

"That should be enough to tell you that this high school's team is the premier team in the state. We don't sign up players just because they come barging into my office and demand to play."

"I apologize, sir, but I'm in a hurry to get this done so I won't be late for my next class."

"I'm sorry too, son," said the Coach. "But the team has already been picked. Tryouts ended two months ago. Our first game is this Friday night."

"I know that," I replied. "However, I'm here on the Student Exchange Program. I only arrived this past Friday. That's why I was only able to come to you about it now."

"Where are you from?"

"Canada."

"Canadian ball, huh? What position do you play?"

"Quarterback."

"I already have an outstanding quarterback and a back-up player at that position; that's too bad."

"According to the Student Exchange Program rules you have to give me a chance to make the team. It's all right here," I said while laying down some papers on his desk.

"I don't _have_ to do anything. I'm busy. So, if you'll kindly leave—"

"You don't understand what this means to me. I _have_ to play—"

"I don't care _what_ this means to you. Now get out of my office."

"If you want to try and be ignorant to me, I'll go down to Mr. Taylor's office right now and explain to him what's going on here, and how I'm being treated. Is that what you want me to do?"

"Are you threatening me?" he asked while glaring at me.

"I'm not trying to. I only want to be treated fairly. That's all."

"You want to be treated _fairly_ , huh? Be on the practice field at 3:15 PM sharp. Understand?"

"Yes sir, and thanks."

He did not reply. I turned and sped out of his office. I was already 15 minutes late for Spanish class.

# Chapter 13

I hurriedly made my way over to the class. While peeping through the door window, I scanned the room's interior; looking for an available seat. I spied Keith and Shannon sitting next to each other toward the front. The only free desk was on the far side of the room adjacent to the outside windows. I waited until I saw the teacher turn to write on the chalkboard and then I quietly opened the door and crept inside.

Everyone's head turned and watched me as I silently made my way across the room. I was halfway to the desk when Keith loudly growled, "AHEM." At this sound the teacher, Mr. Ramirez, turned around. He stared at me and asked, "Excuse me young man, but who are you?"

I stood still and replied, "I'm Lance Rock. I'm a student in this class."

"Mr. Rock, this class began 15 minutes ago. Do you have a written excuse as to why you are late?"

"No. I forgot to get one. I was down at the athletic department joining the football team." I quickly glanced over at Shannon after saying this, but her expression did not change.

"You'll have to forgive him," said Keith sarcastically, "He's the exchange student from Canada."

Mr. Ramirez looked at Keith and then back at me. "Mister Rock, the school policy is that if you are late for class without a valid written excuse, it is an automatic write-up."

"I know," I replied. "I'm sorry," I continued while walking toward the desk.

"However," he continued, "My personal policy concerning unexcused lateness is that it is an automatic after-school detention. Therefore, Mister Rock, you will not be attending football practice this afternoon."

"But that's not fair," I protested. "I have to be there because Coach Pernell is giving me a shot at the quarterback position."

At this statement Shannon's eyes grew large and she glanced over at Keith. He mouthed, "He's full of it." Other students were now quietly murmuring and glancing at Keith too.

Mr. Ramirez replied, "Alright, Mister Lance Rock from Canada; I'll make a... deal with you. If you can recite the Declaration of Independence word for word until I tell you to stop, I'll forgo the detention and give you a write-up instead."

"The Declaration of Independence? Okay, I'll give it a try."

"Mister Rock, because this is Spanish class you will recite it in Spanish." At this statement everyone chuckled.

"Fair enough," I replied.

"I'm not finished yet, Mister Rock. I am from Spain; therefore, you will recite it in Castilian.

"Castilian?"

"Yes, Castilian and in an Andalusia dialect."

Now the class was laughing and Keith grinned while remarking mockingly, "Good luck, Canuck."

I stood there glancing around at everyone and then I began to recite. All attention was focused on me. After a minute or two Mr. Ramirez said, "Stop. That is enough. Please take your seat." He stared at me with a bewildered expression. Then he asked, "Why are you even _taking_ this class?"

I heard Keith mutter under his breath, "I knew he was a freak."

I sat down. My only thought was on the football practice after school. I began to replay in my mind all the televised football games I had ever watched while trying to remember what the quarterback had been doing; his footwork, his cadence calling, his movements—anything that would help me. I had never played a game of football in my life and trying out for this position was going to be the hardest thing I had ever attempted.

The period ended and as I walked out the door a number of students congratulated me and said that was probably the first time in the history of the school that Mr. Ramirez had been beaten at his own evil game. An attractive brunette asked me if I'd be willing to tutor her and some guy gave me a high-five hand slap. Shannon stood there and smiled at me while slowly shaking her head in admiration. I tried to walk over to her but Keith intercepted me.

"I don't know what little stunt you pulled with Coach, but you are truly psychotic if you think you have any chance of playing quarterback—let alone making the team. What are you trying to pull, Rock?"

"Why don't you give your questions and threats a rest, _Mitty_. I'm tired of them _and_ you," I replied as I watched Shannon walk away.

He followed my gaze. "Yeah, now I see. You won't give up, will you? Your brain really is fried. She's already mine. I guess you'll have to find that out the hard way, though."

"We'll see."

I continued to focus my thoughts on playing football through the rest of my afternoon classes. After school ended, I made my way out to the athletic field locker room. Once inside, I saw several players changing into their practice uniforms. I walked over to them and asked where I could find the coach. None of them knew. I wandered around for a bit until I spotted a man who looked like he was in a position of authority.

"Are you a coach?"

"No. I'm Mr. Humphries, the trainer."

"My name is Lance Rock. I was told by Coach Pernell to meet him here. Do you know where he is?"

"I believe he's already out on the field. Is there something I can help you with?"

"I'm a new player. I guess I need equipment."

"New player? I wasn't told anything about that. What position do you play?"

"Quarterback."

" _Quarterback_? Where are you from? Did you just transfer in?"

"Yes. I'm from Canada and I'm here on the Student Exchange Program."

"You came all the way down from Canada to play ball _here_? You must be an outstanding player. I'll set you up with some gear. Tell Tom, Coach Pernell I mean, that you talked to me."

"Thanks." I took the equipment over to a bench to sit down and get dressed with the other guys. Then I realized I had no football cleats. I turned to the player sitting next to me and said, "I forgot my cleats."

"Sorry dude, I can't help you," he replied.

I hurried back to the equipment counter. "Mr. Humphries, I forgot to bring my cleats."

"Hmm, that could be a problem. The coach has strict rules when it comes to the players being dressed properly. Give me a minute here to think." He walked over to the lockers and began going down the rows while opening doors on the empty ones. The rest of the team had left to go out on the field.

"Here we go," he remarked after digging an old, smelly pair out of one of the empty lockers. "A few of these kids leave their old shoes lying around in here from year to year. What size do you wear?"

"Size eleven."

"These are size nine and a half," he continued while examining them and crinkling his nose. "Do you want this pair?"

"I'll take them. Thanks." I forced my feet into them. Besides smelling like rotting cheese, they were too tight and extremely uncomfortable. As I finally ran out onto the field to join the rest of the team, I could already feel the onset of blisters.

"Remember to only take your helmet off when Coach says you can!" Mr. Humphries yelled after me.

The team had lined up in an organized formation and was currently engaged in warm-up exercises. I hurriedly joined the last row. I saw Keith, Greg Schulman, and another unidentified player standing in front and facing us. _They must be the team captains_ , I thought. There were 35 of us including myself. I looked around the field and spotted the cheerleaders a short distance away. Shannon and Jill were leading them in routines. Then I noticed the trainer, Mr. Humphries, now approaching Coach Pernell who was standing with some other men. I guessed they were the other coaches. He started talking to him while looking and pointing in my direction. Coach Pernell shook his head in affirmation. Suddenly, Keith yelled for us to follow him in running laps around the field. As we jogged around the perimeter, I looked over at the cheerleaders. Other players did as well with some making suggestive, sexually explicit remarks about them.

Twenty minutes later we were finished preliminary exercises. My feet felt like they were on fire! Coach Pernell barked out orders and the starting squads on both offense and defense lined up to run plays. "Rock!" I heard my name being yelled out. I ran up to one of the coaches. Keith, after having recognized my name, glanced in my direction.

"You see that bench over there, Rock? I want you to sit on it and observe everything that's going on here. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

I ran over to the bench he had pointed to, grateful to be able to sit down and take the pressure off my swelling, smoldering feet. Forty minutes later, several of the cheerleaders having finished their routines, came over to stand nearby and watch the practice. Shannon was among them. I waved to her, but she ignored me. I was ready to get into the practice to try and impress her. I got up and walked over to Coach Pernell.

"Hey coach, I'm ready to play."

He looked at me and then screamed, "WEREN'T YOU TOLD TO SIT ON THAT BENCH?"

I stood there speechless. Everyone on the field turned to stare at us.

"NOW YOU GO BACK TO THAT BENCH, ROCK, AND YOU SIT THERE UNTIL I TELL YOU TO GET UP! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes sir," I sheepishly replied as I scurried back to the bench, now utterly humiliated. While glancing around, I could see most of the other players laughing heartily.

Fifteen minutes later Keith and some of the other starting members were dismissed. He and Shannon walked back to the locker room. His right arm was around her shoulder. He glanced in my direction and gave me the thumbs up sign. An overwhelming feeling of depression began to engulf my mind.

After 20 more minutes, practice ended and the team slowly made their way off the field. Coach Pernell strode over to me and told me to stand up. He put his hand on the bench where I had been sitting and sarcastically remarked, "You did a good job warming this today. At tomorrow's practice, I want you to sit on that bench over there and keep _it_ warm. Because if you want to be on this team, all you're ever going to be is a bench warmer. Is that understood?"

I said nothing.

"No student threatens me, _ever_. Let that be a lesson to you."

I slowly hobbled my blister-encrusted feet across the field back to the locker room. As soon as I walked through the doorway, I was greeted by taunts and jeers.

"Hey benchwarmer from Canada," remarked an unidentified player. "My seat here is a little cold, eh. You'll come over and warm it up for me now, won't you, eh?"

Everyone was laughing. I didn't think it was funny. My hands formed into fists and I went into combat mode. I scanned the room while noting positions and details. Fifteen seconds later I had plotted a solution for the quickest and most efficient way to kill them all. But my conscience reprimanded me. _Are you seriously thinking of murdering them?_ _Where has your honor and discipline gone?_ _What's wrong with you?_ _Why are you acting this way?_ "I don't know," I quietly replied.

While ignoring their provocations, I relaxed my fists and made my way over to the locker where I had stashed my clothes. The players stopped teasing me when they saw that it had no effect. I took off my helmet along with the rest of the equipment, dressed into my street clothes, and then carried the gear over to the storage area. As I turned around to leave, I came face-to-face with Ron Boyle! His eyes grew large in surprise, and then they squinted into a sinister stare.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the wrist grabber."

"It's a small world."

"And soon to be a painful one for you. Listen up team!" he hollered. "This is the guy I was telling you about; the loser who disagrees with our free lunch buffet privileges."

There was loud murmuring and I was soon surrounded by what was left of the team—seven players. Ron stood directly in front of me. I looked down into his face and runny nose. I then surveyed my immediate area while noting positions and stances including the guy who was standing directly behind me. Ron held up his arm in front of my face and challenged, "Now Mister Wrist Grabber, why don't you go ahead and try to bend it again?"

"If you try to steal someone's lunch, I will," I replied matter of factually. "But if I'm forced to intervene again _,_ next time, I'll break it."

His upper lip curled in a sneer and he leered at me with his beady little eyes. Then with an incredibly hideous sound, he began to clear his throat. I could tell he was working up a chunk of snot. He stood there for about 15 seconds with an agonized, tortured expression of concentration on his face. Finally, he stopped, smiled, and then opened his mouth.

Covering the whole of his tongue was the largest, thickest, foulest-smelling clump of yellow-green phlegm I had ever seen! He drew back his head to spit it at me, and I lightly jabbed the middle finger of my right hand into his solar plexus at the same time. As he began to choke and cough, I grabbed him by the back of his head. Mucus was being spewed out of his mouth and I was directing his head like a missile launcher at the guys who were standing nearby. There were shouts and curses as players were being splattered by the slimy, sticky, globs of mucus. As they dodged and ducked out of the way, I looked for an opportunity to make my escape. I released my hold on Ron, and then I spun around while snatching the guy on my left and throwing him into three other players. The two remaining players tried to catch me as I ran towards the outside door. I sidestepped them just as they attempted to grab me and they ended up in each other's arms! Once outside, I bolted for the street and slowed down only when I knew I was well beyond their reach. My feet were throbbing terribly, so I took my shoes and socks off. Then a thought occurred to me. _How in the world was I going to get home?_

Even if I had my own transportation or was able to take a bus, I had slept in Stacy's car on the morning ride in. I had no idea which direction to go. I walked along the street until I found a bench. I sat down to muse. The trip down here had been up to this point a complete failure. I had come down here to get away from the regimented life that I had grown tired of along with Scott's prying eyes. I had also come here in the hope of finding a girlfriend. But ever since I had stepped off that airplane, nothing had worked out the way I wanted it to. And I couldn't understand why.

Stacy's allegations were also haunting my conscience. _Was I really the reckless, brash, nosy, hothead she accused me of being? What would my mother think if she heard those accusations? What would Scott or Sifu Lu Tang think?_ While staring at the ground and sighing heavily, I rubbed Scott's key between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand. I heard a car pulled up alongside the curb in front of me and honk its horn. I raised my head to look at it. Then I saw Jill Cruse stick her head out of the driver's side window and shout, "Hey, Canada, you look a little lost. Do you need a ride?"

# Chapter 14

I slowly got up off the bench, hobbled over to her car, and then thanked her as I slid into the passenger's side seat. As she pulled away she asked, "I'm assuming you want to go to the Muller's?"

I nodded my head yes. "So much for trying to impress her," I remarked dejectedly. "I've never failed so miserably at something in my entire life."

She looked over at me for a moment and then gently asked, "Do you think you might possibly have gone about it the wrong way? Why did you believe that joining the football team would be the way to win her heart?"

"Why wouldn't it? Keith's a quarterback, isn't he?"

"You're not Keith. A girl is seldom impressed by a guy who's trying to be something she knows he's not. Especially if she suspects he's just doing it to try and impress her. At least I know I'm not. Why don't you simply be yourself?"

I said nothing.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," she continued, "But I've noticed you seem to be impulsive at times. Am I right?"

"I'm not usually like that. Ever since I came down here to the States I've been acting..." I turned my head and stared out the window.

"Acting...?"

"Out of character, I guess you could say." After a moment I asked, "Are you planning on going to college after high school?"

"I hope to."

"Are you going to major in psychology?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Because psychology is the only one of our classes that you sit up front in."

"You're pretty observant."

"Do you have any advice for me, doc?" I jokingly asked while grinning at her.

"I _was_ trying to give you some after lunch today, but you got this crazy idea about joining the football team and..." She started laughing.

"Go on."

"Okay, remember yesterday at my house when you went ballistic after you saw her wearing your chain?"

I started to feel guilty again, and I felt for the key hanging around my neck. "Why did she take it?" I asked.

"Maybe she found it after you dropped it and she was holding on to it for you."

"Then why didn't she give it back to me after she knew I was searching for it?"

"Because that's not what she was doing."

I looked at her confused. "Then why _did_ she take it?"

"I don't know."

"You're not at all being helpful, Jill."

"I'm not a mind reader, Lance. But if _I_ were to do something like that it would be because..."

"Because... why?"

"By holding on to your key, she could have in a subtle, non-verbal way been saying; 'I'm giving you a reason to approach me, a reason to come talk to me.' Or, if she knew you liked her; 'I'm giving you an opportunity to ask me out.' Or, if she liked _you_ , she could have even been telling you; 'I want to belong to _you_ , I want to be _your_ girl.'"

"You're kidding?" I asked in total disbelief.

She firmly shook her head no.

"If that's true, I completely blew it. I blew it... big time."

"Yup, you blew your chance with her. After your little tirade, I had you pegged as a conceited prima donna. That is, until what you said to me afterward."

"Which was?"

"You don't remember?"

"I said... I said I was sorry that I yelled at her like that."

"When you said _that_ , I thought to myself; here's a guy who's willing to admit when he's done wrong and I was genuinely impressed."

"If _you_ were impressed then—"

"Exactly! That's what I was trying to tell you today after lunch."

"Why is admitting you've done something wrong, impressive?"

"Because it's so rare. If a guy mistreated or bad mouthed me and then later came up to me to apologize, I think I'd pee my pants. Seriously."

"You're saying she would be impressed if I told her I was sorry for the way I treated her yesterday?"

"I know I'd be."

We were now in front of the Muller's house. I opened the car door to leave and then closed it again and sat back down. "Hey Jill, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"I'm curious. Why are you so bent on seeing Shannon and I get together? I mean, you hardly even know me."

"Because, Canada, when the best-looking guy and girl in the school are dating each other, order and balance are restored to the universe."

"Eh?"

She smiled.

"No, seriously, why?"

She turned her head, stared out the windshield for a moment, and then finally said, "I've known Shannon since grade school. When we were younger we used to be best friends. I remember hearing rumors about how her father used to beat her, her sister, and her mom. After the divorce, he was given a restraining order so she never sees him. Not that she'd probably want to. Anyway, her mom is pretty cool; strict, but cool. I don't share Shannon's conviction, but I do respect it. And I guess... I guess I care about her. I was told by a reliable source, and this is just between you and me, that the only reason Keith wants to go out with her is for bragging rights."

"Bragging rights?"

"Yup."

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

"You know, so he can brag that he was the first guy to score a touchdown in her end zone."

"Really?"

"Keith can have any girl in the school he wants. To set his sights on Shannon just so he can put another notch in his bedpost or take what's most precious to her and stick it in his trophy case—that doesn't sit right with me. Especially when I know he'll move on to his next conquest after he's done with her. Plus, I was also told that he promised certain players on the team a celebratory victory party after she was conquered. It kind of ticks me off."

I stared out the window digesting all of this. Then I asked, "How do you know I'm not after the same thing?"

"Are you?"

"Nope... not at all."

"Then I guess you answered your own question now, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but how did you know?"

"Maybe it's my female intuition, but I sense something different about you. You impress me as being a genuinely decent guy. Shannon needs a boyfriend like that in her life... to love... and care for her."

"Shannon's an intelligent girl," I replied. "She'll see right through Keith and his selfish intentions."

"You would think _,_ " replied Jill. "But Keith is athletic, popular, rich, and was up until this past weekend, the hottest looking guy in the school. A person sees and believes only what they want to. Did I mention he can be charming too? Think of all the pressure on her."

I got out of the car and closed the door. "Hey Jill, thanks for the advice. And thanks for the ride. Just one more thing—her father, what's his name?"

"Let me think. Gunther. His name is Gunther."

"Thanks again for all your help."

"Good luck, Canada," she hollered as she drove away.

I walked up the steps and then through the front door and almost tripped over my luggage! It had been neatly stacked in the foyer, ready to leave with me. After seeing it placed there, I suddenly felt depressed and discouraged. I hobbled toward the kitchen where Stacy, Shannon, and AJ were sitting around the table eating dinner. As soon as Stacy saw me, a look of disapproval came over her face.

"The next time you decide to stay after school, I would appreciate the courtesy of being informed," she snapped. Her eyes then dropped to my bare feet and she exclaimed, "Lance, what happened to your feet?"

"They're a little blistered."

Shannon and AJ glanced down at them. Stacy got up and bent down for a closer inspection. "They look awful. Sit down while I get something for you to soak them in." She brought a bucket with Epson salts and placed it at the foot of my chair. I put my feet into the cool water. Then she set a plate of food in front of me. It was flat-iron steak and seasoned French fries.

"This is one of my favorite meals," I remarked in surprise.

"I know," she replied. "That's why I cooked it for you. Since it's your last meal with us, Shannon suggested I make it special."

"But how did you know?"

"Charlene Colson gave me your portfolio. This meal was listed in it. I cooked your steak medium-rare. Is that the way you like it?"

"Yes," I quietly replied.

I've never had this before," remarked AJ. "It's really good."

"Yes it is," added Stacy.

I sat there staring at it.

"Is there something wrong?" Stacy asked.

I nodded my head yes while trying to control my emotions. "Mrs. Muller, can I... talk to you?"

"Of course."

"Mrs. Muller, I... I just want to say that I'm sorry for the way I've been acting toward you. Last night you said that you were expecting a respectable, well-behaved young man when you brought me into your home on Friday evening. I want you to know that I was brought up to _be_ that way. I don't know why I've acted the way I have up until this point, but I'm not going to make any excuses or act that way any longer. I'm sorry for taking the Ferrari yesterday, for lying to you, and for all the other things I've done to upset you. Would you be willing... to forgive me?"

An expression of surprise came over her face and she glanced over at Shannon who also had the same look. After a moment she said, "Yes, Lance, I forgive you."

Strangely, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"Mrs. Muller, if I give you my word of honor that I will not cause you any more trouble, would you also be willing to let me continue to stay here until the school finds a permanent family for me to live with?"

"If you give me your word you can stay. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"You have my word; thank you so much."

I now turned my attention to Shannon. It was uncomfortably hard to look her in the eyes, but I forced myself to.

"Shannon, I want you to know... that I would never hit you or hurt you, _ever._ I am truly sorry for yelling at you the way I did yesterday. I'm also sorry for upsetting you and for the way I've been treating you. Would you be willing to forgive me as well?"

"Yes," she quietly answered, now with a look of astonishment in her eyes.

"Can we... can the two of us start over?"

She slowly nodded her head yes.

I began to sweat. "Would you like to... go to the dance with me on Thursday night?"

"No, I'm sorry, I... can't," she replied while glancing down at the table.

I sat there speechless, not knowing what else to say.

"At football practice today," said AJ, "Keith asked Shannon to go steady with him. She accepted."

I stared down at my plate with a wave of depression and self-pity now washing over me.

"Aren't you going to eat?" asked Stacy.

"I'm not hungry anymore. May I be excused?"

Stacy nodded her head yes _._ I pulled my feet out of the bucket, dried them off with a towel, and then walked over to the family room. I sat down on a chair with my head resting on my hands. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I glanced up and looked at AJ. She had a sad look on her face.

"I feel bad," she said. "I know you really liked my sister."

"I had my chance and I blew it, AJ," I remarked while once again staring down at the floor. "I just lost the girl of my dreams because of my stupidity. You know... all this mess started because I was simply trying to find out what was going on around here; what was upsetting your family. Can't you even tell me?"

"Maybe you should talk to my mom."

"Okay. Would you... come with me?"

"Uh-huh."

We walked back to the kitchen. "Mom, Lance wants to ask you something personal. Is that okay?"

"Yes, it's okay."

"I know you are experiencing family problems or some other kind of serious trouble," I said. "I think you are being harassed. Is this... true?"

Stacy stared at me, but said nothing.

"Can't you go to the police? Can't they help you?"

She glanced over at Shannon. "No, the police can't help us. No one can help us. We are... alone."

I stood there for a moment deep in thought. Then I said, "I have certain... skills. If you want, if you let me, I can protect you."

She stared at me while deliberating on how to answer. Finally, in a discreet tone of voice she replied, "That's kind of you to offer, Lance, but don't you think it might be a good idea to learn how to protect yourself first before you go around offering to protect someone else?"

"Keith has an orange belt in judo," added Shannon. "I could ask him to give you lessons in self-defense. I'm sure he'd do it as a favor for me."

"Lance doesn't need any lessons from Keith!" exclaimed AJ angrily. "He's a martial arts master!"

"AJ," said Stacy.

"It's true, mom."

"It's alright," I interjected while raising my hand in a gesture of peace.

AJ pushed herself away from the table and stormed upstairs. I slowly walked to the foyer to retrieve my luggage. As I was returning I heard Shannon whisper to Stacy, "Mom, why did he offer to do that?"

"Isn't it obvious, Shannon?" Stacy quietly replied. "He likes you. But what could _he_ possibly have to offer us in the way of help? I think he's simply trying to act macho to impress you because now that you're Keith's girlfriend, his pride has been wounded."

I went to bed that night feeling both demoralized and depressed.

# Chapter 15

I was awakened by Stacy shaking my arm. "Lance, if you want to eat breakfast you have to get up now."

"I don't want to go to school today," I replied.

I had been thinking about Keith and the taunting I might have to face from him and the other football players. I wasn't sure I would be able to control myself if they pushed me too far. I didn't care about school anymore. I was contemplating returning home to Canada.

"Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm..." and then I stopped. I was not going to lie anymore. "I just don't want to go, Mrs. Muller."

"If you're not sick there's no reason to stay home. How are your feet?"

"They're fine," I replied, after having soaked them in an herbal solution last night.

"You can't stay here by yourself. If you want breakfast you have to get up now."

"I'm not hungry."

"Lance you didn't eat any supper last night. You need to eat."

"I don't want anything."

I got up and took some clothes out of my luggage. I carried them over to the bathroom and I locked the door. I could hear Stacy mention my name to Shannon in the other room, but I couldn't make out what else she was saying. I washed my face, dressed, and then came back out. The girls were eating breakfast as I walked past the kitchen and out the front door. I sat down on the front steps to watch the sunrise.

Shortly afterward, Shannon's car backed out of the garage and came up alongside the curb. I could see AJ and Shannon looking at me through the windows. I walked over to the car and slid in the back seat. AJ flashed me a smile, but I ignored her. I rested my head against the car door and closed my eyes for the duration of the ride. Nobody said a word.

We arrived at school and I followed Shannon to homeroom. Keith was already there and he greeted her. He took no notice of me. Reina came over. "Hi," she said. "I am still free for the dance."

"Sure, I'll take you," I softly replied.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed while putting her hands on my face and kissing me on the cheek.

"You're welcome."

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Shannon glancing in our direction. This little exchange perked me up. I sat down beside Reina and began to admire her. She looked over at me and I smiled. She smiled back. "Do you want to know something?" I asked.

"What, Lance-san?"

"You're a very beautiful young woman and you have beautiful brown eyes. You also look really nice today." These statements caught her off guard because she actually began to blush.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed.

After homeroom we made our way over to Biology class. As I walked down the hallway, I saw the new kid whose first name was Brian; the kid who had resisted the football players helping themselves to his lunch. He now sported two black eyes. A feeling of anger stirred within me, but I suppressed it. I then turned a corner and came face-to-face with Ron Boyle, and laughed! He too, was the proud recipient of a black eye. He looked the other way when he saw me and hurried on by. While continuing down the corridor, I saw Keith and Shannon up ahead, walking and holding hands. Feelings of self-pity and jealousy filled my mind.

The morning classes came and went, but I was oblivious to what was being taught. I didn't care or pay attention. At long last it was time for lunch and I made my way over to the cafeteria. But I still did not have an appetite. I sat down at the same table as I had yesterday. I was joined by Bob, Darlene, and Jill. Reina spotted me and she too, joined us. She shared this same lunch period on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Jill glanced over at Shannon and Keith standing in the lunch line and then at me and silently mouthed, "I'm sorry." Reina stared at me and asked, "Are you not eating?"

"No."

"What is bothering you?"

I said nothing as my eyes followed Keith and Shannon walking together over to a table. Reina followed my gaze and then she frowned. I heard a commotion going on at the other end of the room. I stood up to get a better view. Several players were gathered around the kid named Brian. They taunted him, grabbed his food tray, and then began helping themselves to whatever food was on it. He looked like he was going to cry. My hands formed into fists and Reina took notice of it. I pushed my chair back, stood up, walked out of the room, and then headed for the outside courtyard. After making my way over to a bench, I sat down and took out my smartphone.

"Hi, mom," I said after she answered the phone.

"Lance, how are you doing, honey? Is everything okay?"

I updated her on my situation and then asked if she had any news about Scott.

"On Saturday two men from the RCMP came here. They were looking for you. They wanted to talk to you."

"What did you say to them?"

"I told them you weren't here and that you were in the United States for the rest of the school year. They asked for the address. I had to tell them."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'll call you again when I know precisely where I'll be staying. I love you, mom. Take care."

Next, I called Peter. The call went into his voice mail and so I left a detailed message about how I ended up at the home of this gorgeous, blue-eyed blonde who lived with her sister and mother. I described Shannon in vivid detail and I also told him I was working on making her my girlfriend. I said that I'd e-mail him some pictures soon. I felt I had nothing to lose in making such assertive statements which were partially true.

I glanced down at my watch and got up to head for Spanish class. I decided to sit at the same desk as I had yesterday. It gave me a great view of Shannon's profile since she and Keith were also both sitting at the same desks. I rested my head on my hands and stared at her beautiful face and light-blonde hair. My mind drifted back to Saturday morning and my first meeting with her. I began to relive my past and imagined how things could have been if I'd only done them differently. I pictured us walking along the beach together with my arm around her shoulder and talking to her as the sun set. While smiling, I held her in my arms and stared down into her incredible blue eyes as she stared back up into mine. As I bent my head down to press my lips against hers, I suddenly heard Mr. Ramirez exclaim, "MISTER ROCK!" Now startled, I shook my head to clear it and then quickly looked over at him.

"Mr. Rock," he sternly began, "Three times I have called out your name for attendance and you have sat there with a glazed look in your eyes and a silly grin on your face ignoring me. Miss Muller is not your teacher, I am. Would you be so kind as to focus your eyes and attention off of her and onto me?"

The class exploded in laughter and I could feel my face turning red. Sweat began to drip from my armpits. Shannon was being verbally teased by the students sitting around her and her face too, was turning pink. Only Keith wasn't laughing. I slouched down in my chair to try and hide, but it was futile. After class, I stayed in my seat staring down at the desktop until everyone had vacated the room. Then I cautiously walked out and made my way over to the gym. When gym period was over, I decided to skip my last course—Physics. Keith and Shannon were also in that class and frankly, I was just too embarrassed to go to it. I went to the library instead. I showed my student identification to one of the librarians so that I could use a computer terminal. It was time to do a little research on several people with the last name of Muller and one with the last name of Mitterhauser.

Determined to obtain the information that I was seeking and with an attitude of disdain for amateur security measures, I viciously assaulted website firewalls and chuckled heartily as they collapsed before my onslaught. Fifty-five minutes later I had retrieved and collected a significant dossier of data. As I got up to leave, another thought suddenly occurred to me. I accessed the internet once again and I brought up a map search engine. I punched in latitude and longitude coordinates; the ones that Scott had written on his farewell note giving the location to whatever the key opened. As I zoomed in on the results of my search, my eyes grew large in surprise. _He's got to be joking,_ I thought. _How and why did he put it there and how in the world does he expect me to...?_ I slowly shook my head and smiled. Travelling to this location was not going to be easy; feasible, but certainly not simple. It was going to take preparation and planning which meant I was going to have to wait until the end of the school year before I could attempt it. I stayed in the library until the ringing of the bell that signaled the end of class.

After a trip to my locker, I made my way outside and then over to Shannon's car. While leaning against it with my arms crossed, I patiently waited until I finally saw Keith and Shannon approaching me. When they got to within10 feet of the car, Shannon stopped, turned, and then said goodbye to him. He bent his face down to kiss her on the lips, but at the last second she turned her head aside. His kiss landed on her right cheek instead. He threw up his arms in surprise and I could hear him remark in annoyance, "What's up with you?"

"I'll see you tonight," she calmly replied.

We both got in her car and as she drove I asked, "Aren't we going to pick up AJ?"

"She's going to a friend's house after school. She'll be home later tonight."

"About Spanish class today, I'm... sorry... I didn't... I wasn't trying to embarrass you."

She glanced over at me and said, "Lance, you have to understand that Keith is my boyfriend. Just because you apologized to me last night for the way you've treated me, doesn't mean I'm going to automatically drop him and go out with you."

"I'm not feeling well at all," I remarked. "I'm... starving."

"You didn't eat supper last night, breakfast this morning, or lunch today," she replied while slowly shaking her head. "No wonder you're not feeling well. Even though you're in fantastic shape, you need to learn to take better care of yourself."

"How do you know that I didn't eat lunch today?"

"I... you didn't take any with you this morning."

"How do you know I didn't buy anything?

She sighed and said, "Okay, I saw you get up and leave the cafeteria without having bought or eaten anything."

"How do you know I'm in fantastic shape?"

She sighed again, rolled her eyes, and then shook her head slightly. "Because you're very muscular and you'd have to be in fantastic shape in order to swim the way you did on Sunday and rescue Lori. Are you happy now?"

"Yes," I replied while grinning slightly in triumph. "Are you going to become a nurse like your mother?"

"I was considering it," she answered while glancing over at me quizzically.

"I think you'd make a great nurse, or doctor, or anything you'd want to be. Being an honor student for the past three years certainly proves that you're smart enough."

"How do you know I've been an honor student for the past three years?"

"You have a 4.0 grade point average. Doesn't that put you on the honor roll?"

"How did you find out about my grades?"

"I... have skills," I replied, while again smiling triumphantly and leaning my head against the window. She said nothing more, but out of the corner of my eye I could see she was deep in thought.

Once home, Shannon offered to reheat last night's supper for me. I accepted while she checked the mail.

"Lance, there's a note for you from my mother. It's important," she said while laying it in front of me. She turned and went up to her room. _Probably a new list of chores_ , I thought. _I'll read it later_. I needed to get some school supplies and after having eaten, I went upstairs and knocked on Shannon's bedroom door. She opened it and I gasped. I had up to this point, never seen her in full make-up.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"You look... _wow_ ," I remarked while admiring her.

"Thank you," she softly replied. "Keith is taking me out for dinner tonight."

I just stood there and continued to admire her—completely infatuated. While cocking her right eyebrow she asked, "You knocked on my door, Lance. What do you want?"

"I, ah, I need to get school supplies. I was wondering if you could help me with that. You know, recommend a store, or even drive me there."

She shook her head with a puzzled expression on her face and asked, "Why?"

"For school."

"What do you mean for school? Didn't you read my mother's note?"

"No. I was going to read it later."

"Lance, the school called today. They told my mother that they were unable to find another host family for you to stay with. I guess this means you'll be going back home... to Canada."

My eyes dropped to the floor in mild shock. She put a hand on my shoulder. "I am sorry. Are you okay?"

"Don't be sorry. I really... didn't fit in down here anyway. And besides, as of last night, I have no reason to want to stay down here any longer, either."

I turned and went back downstairs. Mrs. Muller came home and told me there was a flight back to Toronto leaving this Saturday just after lunch. She had graciously booked it for me. I thanked her, and then offered her some money to pay for it but she refused. The doorbell suddenly rang. It was Keith having come to take Shannon out on their date. She came downstairs to greet him. He saw me and said, "I hear you're leaving us." I glanced over at Shannon and she quickly averted her eyes. Keith continued, "Coach and the players don't want you to leave. They've decided to chip in and buy you a cot. They're going to set it up in the playing field locker room. Coach said and I agree with him, that you're the best bench warmer the team has ever had. So, please don't go. I'd like you to keep _my_ seat warm."

"Keith!" exclaimed Shannon.

"Ah, I'm only joking around."

"Well, I'm _not_ joking around when I tell you this," I remarked while walking up to him and pointing my finger at his face. "If you touch her inappropriately, or touch her in any way that goes beyond her will or consent, I personally guarantee that you will never be able to put your hands on a girl in the same way ever again."

"Lance, you are unbelievably embarrassing!" exclaimed Shannon. She looked both shocked and hurt. "How dare you speak to my boyfriend like that!"

"He knows what I'm talking about."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he angrily retorted with his face now twisted in rage. Stacy, sensing a fight was imminent, quickly said, "You two leave now." And she hurried them out the door. After closing it, she turned to me and with exasperation in her voice said, "You have crossed over the line. You gave me your word that you would not cause any more trouble around here."

"Am I causing trouble simply because I want to look out for her welfare? If she had a father or brother who loved and cared for her, would they not show the same concern?"

"You are neither her father nor her brother. I know Keith, and he is a decent, well-behaved young man. I also know jealousy when I see it. This is your last chance, Lance. Mind your own business."

# Chapter 16

Wednesday morning soon arrived and because it was an in-service day there was no school. I decided that this would be a good opportunity to do a strenuous, physical workout. Stacy had admonished me to mind my own business and I would comply. I would keep to myself the rest of my stay with them. Exercising would be one way to keep my mind and body occupied. Also, I hadn't engaged in any weight-lifting since arriving in the States and I was feeling lethargic because of it. I had brought my own set of stretch bands with me on the trip, but I decided to try out the exercise equipment in the den. Fortunately, Stacy was also off today and she made a hearty breakfast for all of us that included bacon, eggs, pancakes, and French toast. After breakfast I asked her if I could take her up on her previous offer to use Teri's equipment and she gave her consent.

"You can work out in the morning and stay cool in the pool this afternoon," she said. "The weather report is calling for record heat today—triple digits."

When AJ heard that I was going to exercise, she asked if she could join me. As a gymnast, she was conscientious about staying in shape all year round. I was happy to have her company. Shannon, on the other hand, was acting moody toward me. _She's probably still irritable about my confrontation with Keith last night,_ I thought.

"Let's do warm-up stretches first," I suggested to AJ. "You first help me stretch and I'll help you. That way it will give us time to digest our food."

"Okay," she replied.

As we were prepping ourselves, Shannon came into the room, walked over to the desk, and then turned on the computer. While assisting AJ, I could see Shannon out of the corner of my eye watching us from above the monitor. AJ was wearing shorts and I remarked matter of factually, "You have beautiful legs, AJ. They're both muscular and shapely."

"Thank you," she replied while flashing me a happy smile. I noticed Shannon roll her eyes and shake her head slightly at this comment.

"I'm going to start out with push-ups," I said. I got down on the floor and pumped out a quick 40 in a row. "How much do you weigh, AJ?" I asked.

"Around 107 pounds. Why?"

"I want you to lie on top of my back while holding onto my sides with your hands."

"Awesome," she replied while smiling.

I lay down on my stomach and she laid herself down on top of my back.

"This is fun," she remarked while giggling as I counted out 25 more push-ups. I could hear Shannon fidgeting in her seat. AJ began to tighten her grip on my sides and I began to chuckle.

"Hey cut that out!" I exclaimed. "I'm ticklish in that spot." While ignoring my request, she continued to squeeze hard until I finally collapsed on the floor laughing. As she rolled off while laughing playfully, I heard Shannon mumble something under her breath.

"Let's do it again," said AJ.

"Nah, I'm going to do bench presses using this machine here. Let's see, the maximum plate weight is 250 pounds. Can you balance yourself on the top weight by holding on to the bar where the cable goes through that pulley? That should bring it up to 360 pounds."

"Can you bench press that much?"

"I've previously pressed close to 400 pounds."

"Wow, that's amazing," she remarked while climbing up and then holding on to the top bar.

I gripped the bar and began pushing up. I did six repetitions, four times in a row.

"You _are_ strong," AJ remarked. "Really strong."

"I've been exercising my muscles a long time. Physical strength comes not only from building muscle mass, however. It also comes from strengthening tendons and ligaments, too."

For the next hour I did an intense workout on every major muscle group until I was fully pumped and completely exhausted. AJ worked out along side me, albeit her routine was not as intense or as thorough. Amazingly, Shannon stayed at the computer the whole time keeping an eye on us.

For the cool down part of my routine, I decided to do a Yang-style Tai Chi Chuan form. As I went through the movements, Shannon stared at me with a look of fascination on her face. After I was done, AJ asked, "Can you teach me how to do that?"

"Sure."

"Remind me why you do this again?"

"Remember what I told you about Tai Chi? It has health benefits as well as combat applications. It helps circulate your 'chi,' or your internal energy. Come over here and stand in front of me."

She complied, and I stepped up behind her while lining my arms up with her arms and my torso with her torso. I slowly began to move through the form while guiding her hands and helping her mimic my actions. She began to playfully laugh. Then she quickly turned around and faced me while flashing her eyes and smiling broadly. All at once Shannon snapped, "That's enough AJ. Exercise time is over. I'm sure you have homework or something else you have to do."

"But that's not fair. We weren't doing—"

"You know what mom said about you two. Now leave."

While fuming, AJ stomped out of the room. I turned to look at Shannon while frowning and slowly shook my head in annoyance. "You didn't have to..." But she ignored me and got up from the desk. Then she walked past me out of the room while acting completely nonchalant. I went back to the family room and laid down on the couch to rest and ride the endorphin high that comes from having done an exhausting workout.

A couple of hours later as lunch time approached, Shannon came into the room and said, "Keith is coming over to eat lunch and go swimming. Would you like to join us?"

"What for?" I sarcastically asked, "So I can have a front row seat to you two making out in the pool?"

An incredulous look came over her face. "Why do you always have to be like that? Do all Canadian guys act as ignorant as you?"

"Actually," I replied while getting up and continuing my sarcastic tone, "My mentor taught me how to blend in with different cultures and environments. Since I've stepped off that plane I've done my best to be and act like a typical _American_ guy."

She stared at me and asked, "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

I said nothing.

"Have you ever even dated a girl?"

My eyes glanced down at the floor.

"I didn't think so. Your mentor should have spent less time teaching you how to blend in with different cultures and environments and spent more time working on your social skills."

"Why would you think I would even _want_ to join you and Keith in the pool? The guy hates my guts."

"I thought you could invite Reina over. I was just trying to be friendly and polite. And Keith does not hate your guts." She turned and started to walk away.

"Hey, Shannon?"

"What?" she snapped while turning around to face me.

"About Keith; How well do you... ah... really know him?"

She walked up to me and while staring into my eyes, asked, "Lance, why are you trying so hard to act like you care about me? In four days you'll never see me again."

"Yeah, you're right. Why should I try to care about you... or your family?" I turned to walk away. She touched my arm and said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound..."

But ignoring her, I pulled my arm away and walked over to the den. Then I sat down at the computer desk.

_I have to get out of here when Keith comes over_ , I thought. _A fight between us is inevitable. I'll end up putting him in the hospital, or worse. They would never forgive me. They might even have me arrested. But where can I go for a couple of hours? I doubt neither Stacy nor Shannon will let me borrow their car._

A short time later the door bell rang. Shannon answered it. She had changed into a white bikini. As I gazed upon her, my hormones enthusiastically applauded their approval. A bathing suit like that was designed for only two reasons: to accentuate curves and highlight a tan. On Shannon it was doing both those very things—magnificently. Keith entered the house and hugged and kissed her. I felt envy burning in my heart. He commented on how hot it was outside. I was feeling the heat of jealousy _inside_ and out of desperation; I decided a 24 kilometer run would do the trick. It would get me out of the house and eat up a good two hours. By the time I came back, he might be gone, or so I hoped. I'd done many such runs up in North Bay. All I needed to do was plot out a course around the area and commit it to memory. It took about 10 minutes on the computer and I had my route mapped. I walked into the family room to retrieve my running shorts and sneakers. After changing in the bathroom, I walked over to the kitchen. Stacy was at the counter preparing lunch. Shannon was standing by the kitchen table and Keith was sitting in a chair behind her rubbing suntan lotion on her back with his eyes fixated on her behind. All three turned to look at me when I entered the room.

"Mrs. Muller, do you have any Gatorade or other electrolyte beverage?" I asked.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't."

"I'm going out for a run. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Can I come with you," AJ asked while walking into the room.

"Not this time."

"A couple of hours?" asked Stacy in alarm. "What do you mean you're going out for a run? It's lunch time. How far are you planning to go?"

"Twenty-four kilometers. It's about 15 miles."

"Lance, you can't be serious," she continued. "You haven't eaten any lunch, you had a strenuous work-out this morning, and it's a record hot day outside."

"Do you have any bottled water?" I asked.

"No. Listen to me. It's too dangerous to run in this heat. I'm sure you haven't even properly hydrated yourself. I don't care what kind of shape you think you're in, your body won't be able to handle it. I'm not going to let you go."

I turned to leave but she held my arm. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

I glanced over at Keith, pulled my arm free, and then continued toward the foyer.

"Lance, I asked you a question," continued Stacy while following after me.

"Let him go," remarked Keith. "If he wants to fry what's left of his brain, what do we care?"

Shannon gave Keith a harsh look and followed after her mother.

"LANCE!" shouted Stacy.

I stopped and turned to face her.

"I know why you're doing this," she quietly said under her breath. "Believe me, I know. I have personal experience in the dark side of jealousy. Please, don't go on this run. It's insane. Stay with us." She put her hand on my arm and I saw an expression of deep compassion in her eyes. I looked over at Shannon and she too, had the same compassionate look of concern. I glanced past both of them to Keith sitting at the table. He sneered at me, blew me a kiss with puckered lips, and then flipped up the middle finger of his right hand. I brushed Stacy's hand off my arm, turned, and then walked out the front door and straight into an inferno.

A red flag warning began to wave in the back of mind, but I ignored it and started my run. There was an incredibly hot, dry, wind blowing in from the east. After one mile my shirt, shorts, and socks were completely soaked in perspiration. I had never experienced such heat before in my life. _Where was the usual cooling ocean breeze?_ I thought. It was as if the blistering, fiery, flames of hell had descended on Santa Barbara, sucking the moisture out of everything. I noticed I was the only one on the streets. There was not another soul to be seen anywhere. At the eight mile point I began to experience a severe headache and muscle cramps in my legs. It was the onset of dehydration. The sun was continually beating down on my head and the hot wind made me feel like I was running inside an incinerator. Common sense dictated that I stop and seek help. But then I pictured the mocking I would receive from Keith. I also pictured the lecture I would receive from Stacy. No, I would keep going and see this through to the end—proving to them I could do it. At the 10 mile mark, I began to feel slightly dizzy and my skin was dry. I was no longer perspiring. Still I continued while forcing myself to press on in what Stacy had rightly described as "insanity." I reached up and touched my head. It was way too hot. I was beginning to succumb to hyperthermia. I came to an intersection and I became confused. I couldn't remember which way to turn. I stood there trying to focus. Then I remembered, and I continued running. I estimated I had two miles left to go. Now my head felt like it was going to explode. Each step was laborious. My heartbeat was starting to accelerate to a dangerous rate. The cramps in my legs were painful! As the dizziness increased, I steadied myself while trying not to faint. My mouth was as dry as sun-baked sand and the thirst was maddening. My breathing was abnormally rapid as well. I had to get out of the blistering wind. I glanced up at the street sign. Suddenly, I bent over and put my hands on my knees while trying to vomit, but nothing came up. A car pulled up alongside of me. The driver rolled down his window and asked, "Son, are you okay?"

"I need to... I need to get to..." and I gave him the Muller's street address.

"You're almost there. Just turn this block and go about halfway down it. Hop in my car and I'll drive you."

I shook my head no. "Thanks," I whispered hoarsely. I was less than a football field away. I had made it. I had survived two hours of running in hell. I vowed never again to be as reckless or foolish. He drove off and I took a step and almost passed out. I managed to maintain my balance and then I slowly walked in the direction he pointed. There was a park on my right. There must be a water fountain there. _No. No time to lose if there isn't_ , I thought. _Must keep going... I'm almost there._ I turned the corner and became even more alarmed because I was now starting to hallucinate. I imagined I saw AJ running toward me with an expression of terror on her face! As she was about to fly by, I reached out to grab hold of her. Expecting to latch on to nothing, I was astonished when it was actually her.

"Where... are you going?" I weakly asked.

She tried to wrest herself from my grip while trying to kick me between the legs as well.

"AJ, it's... me."

"Run!" she cried. "They came! They came! Run!"

"What... are you talking about?" I gasped.

"They came!" were her only words.

After tearing herself free of my grasp, she continued running down the street. Something had traumatized her. Panic began to set in my mind as I wondered if I had lost touch with reality. I briefly considered trying to chase after her, but I had no idea where she was going. I also had no energy left to run. It was all I could do to try and drag myself back to the house. I stumbled on. As I neared it, I saw a black, late-model Lincoln Town car parked in front. Its motor was off and its tinted windows were up. In this heat, I knew it had to be unoccupied. I also noticed that Keith's Audi was nowhere in sight.

I decided to enter the house through the outside door that led directly into the garage. Then I remembered the Muller's pool in back with all that cool refreshing water to drink and swim in. I attempted to make my way toward it. However, I immediately collapsed onto the ground instead, overcome by dizziness. I crawled on all fours toward the shade provided by the roof overhang. The momentary relief of being out of the sun provided an opportunity to ponder what next to do. If there was danger in the house as AJ had warned, I couldn't allow myself to be caught off guard. Someone was inside; whoever "they" were. I needed to approach with caution.

I stood up, stumbled toward the garage, and then I slowly and quietly opened the door. While peering around the interior, I neither saw nor heard anyone. As I crept inside, the cool air felt like heaven on my superheated skin. My thirst however, was still maddening, and it took all of my willpower to control myself. I walked over to the Ferrari and I leaned against it. Now succumbing to dry heaves again, I bent doubled over and I tried to vomit. My muscles were aching and my head was spinning. I glanced over at the workbench in front of the car and noticed containers of both anti-freeze and windshield washer fluid sitting on top. _Which would be safer to drink_? I thought. After staggering toward them, I picked up the container of washer fluid. I unscrewed the cap and poured the contents over my head while covering my eyes with my hand as best as I could. This cool liquid provided additional relief.

Having somewhat recovered, I crept to the door that led to the hallway and then cautiously opened it. I could hear voices coming from the direction of the dining room. While silently sneaking into the hallway, I made my way over to the living room with the air conditioning providing even further relief. Then I dropped face down onto the floor and quietly crawled to the corner of the wall while peering around the edge. Sitting 25 feet away at the dining room table with their backs to me were Shannon and Stacy. Shannon was still wearing her bikini. Although my view was partially obstructed, I could perceive some men sitting directly across from the girls. These individuals appeared to be eating, drinking, and conversing happily. There was nothing inherently dangerous about what I was observing, but I decided to wait a little longer.

_Everything's fine here_ , I thought, after about a minute. _The encounter with AJ must have been a hallucination due to the effects of dehydration and hyperthermia. Right now, AJ's probably up in her room or somewhere else in the house. These men are either friends or relatives._ I forced myself up to a sitting position and was about to stand up and cry out for help when one of the men said, "Your name's Shannon, right? Come over here and sit on my lap."

Shannon did not respond.

Again he said, "Come over here, gorgeous, and sit on my lap."

Still she made no attempt to move.

He then screamed, "COME OVER HERE NOW, OR I'LL BLOW YOUR MOTHER'S HEAD OFF!"

# Chapter 17

I immediately dropped back down into a prone position as Shannon hurriedly complied with the man's request. As she stood up, the view of him became clearer. He was dark-haired, middle-aged, and holding what appeared to be a silenced 9 mm pistol pointed at Stacy's head. My heart sank.

"Get me another one of my beers, Stacy," ordered the other man. Stacy then stood up—revealing this second man to be blonde-haired and also middle-aged. Shannon was visibly distraught as the dark-haired man lewdly wrapped his right arm tightly around her chest—holding her close. He held a bottle up to her mouth and asked, "Drink?" She turned her head away in disgust and he laughed. Stacy had returned and handed the blonde-haired man his beer.

"Kyle, please... let my daughter go," she pleaded with her voice trembling.

"I like your daughter right where she is," Kyle replied. "If I had known there was a young woman here this beautiful, I would have paid a visit much, much, sooner."

The men continued eating and drinking. I noticed that they were eating alone. Stacy and Shannon had not joined them. As I lay there, I could feel my mind fading. The maddening thirst was affecting my ability to concentrate. I knew I didn't have much time left before serious, possibly irreversible damage was done to my body. The blonde-haired man remarked to Stacy, "That was a fine meal, woman. You sure know how to cook."

She stood up and again pleaded, "Dwayne, _please!_ Tell Kyle to let my daughter go now."

"No. We haven't had our dessert yet," he replied.

"All I have right now is ice cream," Stacy replied.

Dwayne and Kyle grinned at each other.

"After all this time, you still don't get it," said Dwayne mockingly. "The two of you are today's dessert."

Stacy collapsed into her chair with a loud gasp of despair. Kyle leered at Shannon and said, "We were told you might still be a virgin. Is that true?"

Shannon's complexion blanched in an expression of fright. He laughed and said, "I guess I'll find out shortly now, won't I?"

Dwayne also laughed and said, "Your mission PO1 Sloan is to relieve this girl of her virginity."

"I guarantee its successful completion," he replied enthusiastically while grinning wickedly at Shannon. "Why are you looking so upset, beautiful?" he continued. "You should be happy. You're going to have my baby."

Stacy hysterically screamed, "NO!" while standing up, lunging for Shannon, and attempting to free her from Kyle's grasp. Dwayne shoved her hard back into her seat and shouted, "SIT DOWN!" She began to sob loudly. Shannon began to repeatedly gag and then she vomited onto the table top. The men glanced at each other in surprise and then broke down laughing. In between laughs Kyle remarked, "She isn't even pregnant yet and already she has morning sickness."

"Oh, by the way," added Dwayne mockingly to Stacy, "The Chief told us to make sure we use your bedroom so that it would be a nice famil _y_ experience."

I stared down at the floor in total disgust, now having seen and heard enough. I was shaken to my core. Whoever these men were, I wanted nothing to do with them. I wanted to get far away from them and as fast as possible. Scott was right. There are vile, wicked people in this world. As I turned to crawl back to the garage, my conscience immediately reprimanded me.

_You can't abandon Stacy and Shannon to be raped by those men_ , it challenged.

_Stacy admonished me to mind my own business_ , I resentfully countered. _They treated my offer of help as a joke. Let her boyfriend come to their rescue_. I continued to crawl away.

_Whether or not they treated you right makes no difference,_ replied my conscience. _You're their only hope of rescue._

_Scott taught me self-preservation,_ I argued. _He would approve of my actions right now._

_Scott wanted you to do some good in the world_ countered my conscience. _These wicked men will triumph if you leave and do nothing_. _Do you or do you not care for those girls?_

I stopped to consider that question. After a moment I answered, _I do. I do genuinely care for them_.

Then climb out of that cave of self-pity you're trying to hide in and help them.

_But what can I do?_ I thought while staring down at the floor. _I can't fight and I have no gun_. _Maybe_... _maybe I should just call the police_. But I remembered how emphatic Stacy had been about the police _not_ being able to help them. _What if these men are police;_ _corrupt cops on the take?_ My head was throbbing. My stomach was nauseous. My body was trembling. My eyes drifted to the tattoo on my right arm; "Your mind is your greatest weapon." A minute later I had formulated a rescue plan.

However, there were so many things that could go wrong with the plan that I wondered why I was even bothering to attempt it. Foremost was the fact that if these two men were indeed Santa Barbara police officers, the plan would fail outright. I would probably be killed. _You're slowly dying now anyways_ , I thought. _Better to die honorably trying to save people you care about, than to flee like a coward thinking only of yourself_. This brought me back to the gravity of my physical condition. I've got to drink something. I've got to get fluid into my body. I started crawling in the direction of the bathroom. It was only a few feet away and just around the corner. I forced myself up to a standing position and as I did, the bathroom door opened and a _third_ man came walking out. Or stumbling out would be a more apt description. He was clutching his groin, softly moaning, and walking sort of bow-legged—all gimpy like. He hobbled over to the kitchen while not even noticing me standing there. I quickly ducked down and carefully retreated back to the den. When he neared the dining room, I heard Kyle and Dwayne exclaim, "Rico!"

"You've got to take me to the hospital," Rico pleaded in a thick Hispanic accent.

"She kicked you that hard?" asked Kyle.

"Like a _caballo_." he groaned. "I think I'm ruptured."

They roared with laughter. I smiled and thought, _Good one, AJ! Way to go, girl!_

Refocusing back on my plan, I realized I needed to access the internet. I also needed my smartphone. I had plugged it into a wall charger this morning but I could not remember where, no matter how hard I tried. While crawling over to the computer desk, I spotted it in the wall outlet next to the floor lamp. Apparently, fortune was smiling down on me and this boosted my morale. I heard Rico say, "I'm not going to sit around here listening to you guys have all your fun. I'm going to go wait in the car." He got up and limped towards the front entrance while I ducked down behind the computer monitor.

"Don't you even want to hear their screams?" asked Dwayne.

"No," he replied while hobbling out the front door.

That last comment once again helped me comprehend the severity of Stacy and Shannon's predicament. It also triggered Stacy to once more plead for Shannon's release.

"We had an agreement!" she sobbed.

"Yeah, about that," replied Dwayne. "The Boss said you broke it. Therefore, your daughters are now fair game."

" _Please_ ," she implored. "I'm begging you Kyle. Don't do this to her. Let her go. She doesn't deserve this... Please... I'll do anything you want... anything..."

"You know I like it when you beg, Stacy, and you _will_ do anything I want. But we'll be the ones who decide what your daughter does or doesn't deserve. And she's too beautiful and desirable to simply let go. She's as gorgeous as you."

"LET HER GO YOU MONGRELS!" Stacy screamed.

I could hear scuffling and then someone being repeatedly slapped.

"Shannon shouted, "MOM, NO!"

Both girls now wept loudly and uncontrollably. It was both heart-wrenching and unnerving to have to listen to all of this. These men were not going to show any compassion or mercy. They seemed incapable of it. In fact, their response was to viciously taunt and mock her. "Do you know what you are, Stacy?" asked Dwayne. "You're a whore. You've always been and always will be nothing but a whore. And do you know want to know something else? Starting today we're going to make your daughter here into the exact same thing; nothing but a whore like you."

My fists clenched in anger. I loathed those men and I wanted nothing more than to see them severely punished for their behavior. My plan _must_ succeed. I finished with the computer. I stood up to move toward the stairs that led to the second floor. The room started spinning and I fell back into the chair. I attempted it again and this time I slowly collapsed onto the floor. While crawling over to the stairway, I paused to glance down at my watch. Timing was everything in my plan. I started to quietly move up the stairs and then everything went black. I awoke with a start and in a panic. I glimpsed at my watch. Forty-five seconds had elapsed and I could now hear the men in the dining room talking about going up to Stacy's bedroom. I again tried to move up the stairs, but it felt like my mind was becoming detached from my body. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

What seemed like an eternity could only have been a minute or two as I finally made it up to Stacy's bedroom. Pausing by the bed, I laid my smartphone on top of her comforter. I stared at the bathroom door and I immediately felt elated; here was a source of water! I lunged forward, pushed the door open, and then stumbled over to the tub while collapsing just short of it. I lay on the carpet gazing at the tub, unable to reach it. _I can't go on_ , I thought while staring up at the ceiling. _You must_ , my conscience replied. Suddenly, it seemed as though I was now floating outside of my body while staring down at it as I lay on the floor. I closed my eyes and focused my will on the goal of crawling over the side of the tub. As I concentrated, I found myself actually doing it. With a thud, I landed inside. After reaching above my head, I turned on the spigot and cold, life-saving water began to gush out. I guided my mouth to the source and I began to drink heartily and greedily. I turned on the shower and let its spray wash over me. I was in liquid heaven. I kicked off my shoes. Next, I pulled off my socks and my shirt while writhing in the refreshing, cold, fluid. Now revived somewhat, I attempted to stand up. A powerful, sickening, feeling wrenched my stomach and I violently puked up all my precious water onto the floor. Then, I heard the bedroom door open. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist. I grabbed a second towel and began drying off my hair as I opened the bedroom door and I unsteadily stepped into the room. The scene that I was confronted with drove a spike of fear through me from head to toe.

I finally had a clear, unobstructed view of these two men and what I saw now terrified me. Scott had as a supplemental course in psychology, taught me "profiling," with an emphasis on recognizing those individuals whom he considered to be dangerous. Military veterans who had retired from the service but who were still using the training that the government had invested in them—particularly in the knowledge of how to kill—were at the top of the list. He once told me, "The more times someone has killed, the more their conscience becomes seared. They become immune to remorse and killing to them becomes like eating, drinking, and sleeping—simply a routine."

The two men standing before me fit this profile. Kyle stood about six feet three inches tall and weighed, I estimated, between 230 to 240 pounds. Dwayne stood about six feet five inches tall and weighed around 250 pounds. They were wearing short-sleeved dress shirts, dress pants, and dress shoes. I could tell from their physiques that they were muscular. Both of them were wearing black shoulder harnesses that contained silenced 9mm pistols—Kyle's being a SIG-Sauer P226, and Dwayne's being a Beretta M9. Each of them had tattoos on their arms that displayed a colorful rendering of the branch and military units they had served in. These men were mercenaries, bodyguards, or hit men. Kyle was holding Shannon's left arm and Dwayne was holding Stacy in the same way. As soon as they saw me, both men in unison let go of the girls while instinctively reaching up and putting their right hands on the grips of their guns. After a few seconds they relaxed and went back to holding the girl's in the previous manner.

"Who... are you guys?" I weakly asked.

At the sound of my voice, Shannon whose head was drooping towards the floor slowly raised it to look up at me. Her cheeks were glistening wet and when I looked into her eyes, I saw an expression of such complete and utter hopeless despair that I began to feel emotionally overcome. _Courage, Lance,_ I thought. _Steel_ _yourself._ Stacy had been quietly sobbing the whole time with her head also sagging and she too raised it at the sound of my voice. Her face was covered in pink welts. Upon seeing them, I became so angry that it instantly drove the fear from my mind.

"Who are _you,_ kid, and what are you doing in here?" asked Dwayne.

"My name is Rock, Lance Rock. The girl that this big ape has his paws on is my fiancée, Shannon. The woman that you're holding as if you _own_ her is my future mother-in-law. My father is an officer in the Santa Barbara Police Department. He and my mother are on their way over here to join us for dinner shortly."

Kyle's right eye twitched and his face became slightly contorted during my response. Dwayne stood there momentarily digesting what I had said and then he replied, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this kid, but there were plans made that I guess you and your family were not aware of. You're going to have to get dressed and leave. You and your family will be eating alone tonight. Please... accept my apology."

I quickly glanced down at my watch. I needed to stall for more time. "Like I said, my name is Lance Rock and my father is a police officer. I also plan on studying Law Enforcement when I go to college and I'm going be a police officer too—just like him. I noticed you're both carrying concealed handguns and in this state you need a permit to do that. Do you mind... if I examine yours?"

Dwayne chuckled and while shaking his head, said, "If you can see them, then I guess they're not really concealed now are they smart—" and then my smartphone rang, startling him.

I picked it up off the edge of the bed and answered it. What I heard was, "Thank-you for using I.E.T.'s courtesy smart phone calling service. The time now is 2:45 PM." What they heard was me saying, "Hi dad...You will be? That's great." And then with my voice trembling, I remarked, "By the way dad, there are two strange men in Mrs. Muller's house and they're acting like they're going to rape both her and Shannon." I then gave the physical description of Kyle and Dwayne while stating that they were both armed and that they appeared extremely dangerous. Next, I described the make and model of car they were driving. Finally, I also gave the license plate number of the car which I had memorized. "I'm really... frightened, dad," I nervously continued. "I don't know who these men are but I'm glad you're going to be here in less than10 minutes. See you in a bit and call for backup if you think it's necessary." Then I hung up.

Dwayne now stared at me with his mouth hanging open in astonishment. He slowly glanced over at Kyle. After a few seconds, he released his grip on Stacy and said, "Let's go. We are _out_ of here."

Kyle was glaring at me intensely as he replied, "No, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not buying this story you're trying to sell us, kid. You're telling us that you came into this house without us knowing about it and then came up here and showered too? And doing all this while we've been down stairs eating? I'm not buying that story for a second." He held up Shannon's hand and asked, "If she's your fiancée, where's her engagement ring?"

"Any _bozo_ knows you don't wear jewelry while swimming," I sarcastically replied while staring intently at him.

I could feel the room starting to slowly spin around me. Kyle's facial expression became bent with rage. He made an attempt to lunge at me but Dwayne grabbed his arm and restrained him.

"Let's go," Dwayne ordered again.

"No!" replied Kyle with his eyes burning holes in me. "I want this girl and I want her right _now_. This smart-mouth _punk_ kid's bogus story is not going to stop me from having her."

"Well then, Mr. Ex-Navy Seal Team Six," I calmly remarked while watching him slowly spin around me. "I'd say you're left with three choices. Either we can all wait here until my father shows up in eight minutes, or you can leave right now, or I can dial 911 like this," I continued while dialing a number on my smartphone.

"Now!" ordered Dwayne as he pulled out his gun and placed it up against Kyle's head.

"There are two kinds of people in this world, _punk_ ," remarked Kyle while pointing his finger at me. "Those with big mouths like yours and those who shut big mouths up. I don't care if your father is a cop. If I ever find you on the street, I'll teach you a lesson in respect that will have you begging me for death." He released his grip on Shannon while letting out the vilest string of cursing and profanity I had ever heard in my life. Then he furiously strode out of the room.

Dwayne sarcastically remarked, "Congratulations on your engagement. Enjoy your dinner and your future career in Law Enforcement." And with that, he too, turned and then exited the room. I waited until I heard him close the front door. I staggered over to Stacy, put my arm around her, and then comfortingly said, "Everything's alright, Mrs. Muller." Next, I stumbled over to Shannon and said, "You're going to be okay, Shannon. They're gone. You're safe now." I went to put my arm around her but the room went dark as I felt myself dropping to the floor.

# Chapter 18

I slowly opened my eyes while feeling slightly dazed and weak. I was lying on a bed in a semi-dark room and I could hear the hum of electronic equipment emanating from my left side. After slowly pushing myself up to a sitting position, I glanced around. There was a heart monitor that was beeping at a steady 40 beats per minute. An IV needle was stuck into the top of my left hand. It was connected to tubing that led up to several bottles of fluid hanging from a stand. As my thoughts slowly cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room. Light from the hallway was coming in through a window above the door and through the doorway itself since it was partially open. I was the only one in the room, or so I thought until my eyes came to rest upon the figure of a person asleep in one of the two lounge chairs. I focused my vision and I recognized the outline of AJ.

Eventually, the door opened all the way and a nurse came into the room. She saw that I was awake and coming over to the bed, quietly asked, "How are you feeling?"

"A little groggy but otherwise alright," I quietly answered. "What time is it?"

"12:20 AM."

"Thursday _morning_?"

She nodded yes.

"Wow."

I motioned with my head towards AJ.

"She's been here all night. Is she your sister because I heard her talk to her mother about wanting to stay with her big brother?"

I smiled and replied, "She's _like_ a sister to me."

"Normally, we don't allow visitors to stay overnight in the room with patients. But since Stacy works here, we made an exception. She asked us to call her when you regained consciousness."

"Okay," I softly said.

I watched her leave and 45 minutes later Stacy arrived. She approached the bed and then tenderly kissed me on the forehead. She pulled a chair over from the table on my right and set it beside me. After sitting down, she gently held my hand and whispered, "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"You could have died from heat exhaustion and hyperthermia."

"I was... stupid, Mrs. Muller. I... I should have listened to you."

She nodded yes and said, "I want to thank you for what you did this afternoon. You..." and then tears filled her eyes as she broke down and began to softly cry. I reached up, touched her face, and then gently wiped the tears away.

"Why do those men come?" I asked.

"Up until yesterday it was always only one... coming at night... for only me."

"But... why?"

She stared down at the floor and replied, "There are some mistakes we make in life that we never stop being punished for."

"How... long have they been coming?"

She paused while thinking and then said, "Since the girls were little... since my divorce—about 10 years ago."

"Mrs. Muller... Stacy," I said with empathy in my voice, "I want you to understand something. Your worth... your value as a woman... as a human being, is in no way bound to the things those men have done to you over the years. You are not a whore, and neither is Shannon. You're a good person... and a great mom. I would be proud to have you as my own mother."

She looked at me in amazement and while softly squeezing my hand said, "Thank you,"

"Those men who came; I know what kind of men they are. They're going to come back."

"I know. They always do."

"You've got to let the police help you. Have you never tried to contact them?"

"My ex-husband said he would kill the girls if I ever did. A year ago Shannon begged me to call them. She was in such despair and I finally gave in to her pleading."

"Were they not able to help?"

"They took a report and filed my complaint."

"And?"

She stared at me and then in a trembling voice said, "He... killed... Teri."

This shocking statement caught me off guard. I could not believe it. I could not believe a man would kill his own daughter simply to make good on a threat.

"Your ex-husband, what kind of a man is he?" I asked in bewilderment.

"People say there are no such things as demons in this world, but I know that's not true. I was married to one and even now he continues to torment me." She put her head on my chest and softly wept and I tried to comfort her as best as I could. Finally, she got up and said, "You need to continue to rest. I'll check on you again in the morning." She went over and woke up AJ. AJ got up, looked at me, and then smiled.

"You did very well, AJ," I said while smiling back. "I'm really, really, proud of you." She came over and gave me a hug. Then she turned and followed her mother. At the door she yawned, waved goodbye, and said, "See you."

***

In the morning I was feeling better. My vital signs had stabilized and my bodily functions were normal. I was even able to eat breakfast. Before I was discharged however, a doctor paid me a visit.

"Good morning, Mister... Rock," he remarked while examining my chart. "My name is Dr. Chan." He stood there reading it while shaking his head and frowning. "Let me ask you a question. Do you have a death wish?"

"No, not at all."

"You are in phenomenal shape. I have never seen an 18 year old boy with such complete and perfect muscular development. You're obliviously an athlete. Being an athlete, why in the world would you go running in the extreme heat of yesterday and doing it without either eating or hydrating yourself beforehand? Why would you run in that heat without taking some kind of beverage with you? This was either a gross act of stupidity, or a suicide attempt."

"I wasn't trying to kill myself, Doctor. I made... an error... in judgment."

"You are fortunate that a nurse was nearby to assist you and call an ambulance as well."

"It won't happen again."

He nodded his head. "I'm going to release you, but make sure you keep yourself hydrated and also take it easy for the next day or two. Understood?"

"Yes, thanks."

Stacy arrived to bring me home. As we drove, I asked her what happened to Keith.

"An hour after you left, he received a phone call from his father telling him that his grandfather had passed away. He and his family flew to New York State. He won't be back until Saturday. Thirty minutes later those men showed up."

"I'm glad AJ was safe," I remarked.

"She managed to get away," replied Stacy while sighing. "We have a back-up plan that if the girls can't get into the safety room, they're to run outside and then down to the nearby park. I told them it's safer to be among a crowd of people than to be alone. Of course, we had never before experienced an encounter like yesterday. While I called the ambulance for you, Shannon went down to the park to look for her. She found her hiding near some playground equipment."

"How's Shannon doing?"

"She's... hanging in there. But she's been traumatized. Last night she woke up crying. Right now she's keeping the incident bottled up. She needs to talk about and release her feelings."

"Yeah, you're right. I understand." I noticed a perplexed look suddenly come over Stacy's face as if she was deep in thought.

"Lance, I'm curious. What was your childhood like?"

"Umm... Why do you ask?"

"Because sometimes you talk and act like a typical teenage boy and then there are times when you behave like... like someone who's twice your age; like someone who's _my_ age."

"Is that good or bad?"

"It's... just different."

As we pulled into the driveway, I told her I wanted to go to school. At first she was against the idea saying that I should stay home and rest a little more. However, I convinced her I was fine and that I would be okay. After changing my clothes and grabbing my book bag, we headed back out to the high school.

"You're late. Take this note and give it to the receptionist," she advised.

Because homeroom was now over, I went straight to biology class. Reina gave me a why-are-you-late-kind-of-look. I smiled and then shook my head while rolling my eyes. I opened my biology textbook and inside the front cover there had been inserted a photo-copied piece of paper. A close examination revealed it to be a page from Shannon's diary. The headline was titled, "A Diamond in the Rough." It read: _On Friday evening a diamond in the rough came into my life. At first I thought he was only a lump of coal. Yesterday, however, when he courageously protected me from the stress and pressures that are a part of my life, a genuine diamond emerged. His shape has many facets, some of which I'm still trying to understand and appreciate. He is rock hard, has flashes of brilliance, and is exquisitely cut. But he is not perfect. This diamond still has flaws which occasionally show up. However, I know these imperfections will disappear as this 'Rock' finds his proper setting in life._ _You_ _are a diamond in my life and the_ _bravest_ _boy I have ever known!!!_ _With all my heart_ _I thank you for_ _caring_ _about me, and for_ _rescuing_ _me!_ She had signed it with a heart.

I glanced over at Shannon and she flashed me an amazing smile. Instantly, I felt butterflies in my stomach! I noticed Reina had been reading the note over my shoulder. I folded it up and then slipped it into my pants pocket. I was on cloud nine the rest of the period. When class was over and as we were leaving, Reina asked me to save her a seat at lunch. I agreed.

At lunch I sat with the usual gang while saving the chair directly across from me. I was looking around for Shannon and I spotted her making her way over to my table. She came up and quietly asked, "Is this seat taken?"

"Yes, by me," remarked Reina who had abruptly appeared out of nowhere while quickly sliding into it. Shannon appeared embarrassed and she began searching around for another place to sit. I was speechless. Reina looked at me and smiled. The football gods (or thugs as I referred to them) now made their entrance. I saw Greg Schulman and another guy glancing around while the rest of his pals began their routine pillaging. He spotted Shannon and then he sauntered over to where she was now sitting at the table next to me.

"Hey goddess, your boyfriend asked me to guard your body while he's away. You _are_ going to the dance tonight, right?"

"I guess so," she replied while nodding. He spun around, mouthed yes, and then walked away while giving his friend a low-five hand slap. His statement about her boyfriend got me to thinking. Keith _was_ her boyfriend. I had no right to even think that our relationship should or could go beyond the formal friendship that it was currently at. I turned my attention to Reina.

"You're one of the quickest, quietest persons I've ever met, kunoichi," I remarked to her in Japanese. She paid me no mind, however. She was looking around at the football players and she appeared disgusted.

"Why should we have to fight for a place to sit when there are four empty tables we could be using? Why are they allowed to take whatever they want, even if it does not belong to them?" she angrily asked in Japanese.

"I don't know."

"Why do you not stop them?"

"What makes you think I can stop them?"

"Because you are a samurai and a samurai's honor would not let him sit idly by while this bullying of innocent people went on in front of him."

"What makes you think I'm a samurai?" I asked surprised.

"You carry yourself with the confidence of the dragon. Your body has the power of the tiger. I also see the boldness of both in your eyes. You are samurai, and you could kill them all."

"Now wait a second here, Reina! I'm not about killing _anyone_ in this cafeteria."

"Why not?"

"Because that would be a completely dishonorable act."

She gave me a look of disappointment. Switching to English I said, "Besides, this is not my problem. I'm leaving to go home on Saturday. I'm returning back to Canada."

"Why?" she asked while sounding shocked.

"It just didn't work out. There's no place for me to stay down here."

"I am sorry for you, Lance-san."

"Hey Canada, did I just hear you say you're leaving?" asked Jill.

"Yeah, Saturday afternoon."

"That's too bad. You're a really nice guy. I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too, Jill. And all of you guys as well; even though I've only known you all for less than a week."

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch period. "Hey, Jill?" I asked, as we made our way out of the cafeteria. "Could I hitch a ride back home with you after school today? I want to ask you a question."

"Sure."

At day's end, Shannon came up to my locker as Jill was standing by and waiting for me.

"Do you need a ride home, Lance?"

"No. Jill is giving me a ride. But thanks anyways."

"Oh," she replied while glancing at Jill. Jill raised her hand in a friendly hello gesture.

Shannon said, "Hi," then turned and walked away.

As we drove home I remarked, "I need you to do me a big favor after I leave."

"A big favor, huh? What would that be?"

"I want you to tell Shannon the facts you were told about Keith; about his true intentions for wanting to go out with her."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious."

She pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Do you know what you're asking me to do? You're asking me to betray a confidence for a second time _and_ face Mitterhauser's wrath if he and his friends find out it was me who told her. I can't do that, Canada."

"I'm asking you to help a girl who could use an ally. Do you want to hear that she was taken advantage of and that Mitterhauser got his way with her? You did tell me you cared about her."

She shook her head while staring out the window. Finally, she said, "This is a huge request. What are you willing to do for me in exchange?"

"What would you like me to do?"

She stared at me, and then an intense look of desire came into her eyes while her lips parted slightly.

I laughed. "Sorry, Jill, Shannon and I share the same conviction."

"I guess I should have known that," she replied with deep disappointment. "Why can't I ever get a hot looking guy?"

"Will you do it then, as a favor for me?"

"Let me think about it."

"Fair enough," I replied as we pulled up to the house. "Thanks for the ride."

"I'll see you tonight at the dance."

"Yeah, I almost forgot about that. Take care."

Upon entering the house, I was greeted by Stacy and Shannon in the middle of a loud, heated debate taking place upstairs. I didn't want to be nosy, but this was the first time I had heard them arguing like this and it aroused my curiosity; so I tuned in.

"No, Shannon. This is my house. I make the rules," said Stacy.

"But mom, he can stay in Teri's room. It's not even being used."

"Would you listen to yourself? On Sunday night I couldn't get him out of this house fast enough for you and now you're begging me to let him stay here for the whole school year?"

"Why don't you _ask_ him if he wants to stay?"

"No _._ He took his life in his hands yesterday when he confronted those men. He should have never been put in that position. It's not fair to him and I will not allow his life to be endangered by staying here. If your father sends those men back and they find him here, they'll kill him. I'm certain of it. I would never be able to forgive myself if that were to happen."

"But mom, I—"

"I _see_ how you now feel about him. But just keep reminding yourself that Keith Mitterhauser is your boyfriend. Lance Rock is going back to Canada in three days. I forbid you to become emotionally involved with him. Is that understood?"

Shannon's reply was to slam shut her bedroom door!

# Chapter 19

I stood there astonished until I heard Stacy start to come down the stairs. I did not want her to think I had been eavesdropping, so I quickly made my way over to the kitchen and then I quietly exited through the patio doors out to the backyard. I walked over to the pool and I stared down at the reflection of the sun on the water. I stood there with my hands in my pockets wishing Scott was here to give me advice. A moment later, I heard the patio door slide open and I turned around to see Shannon walking toward me. Her bedroom window faced the backyard and she must have been looking out and spotted me. She came up to me and said, "I... I never got a chance to personally thank you for what you did for me yesterday." Tears immediately began to fill her eyes, and she extended her hands towards me. "I... if it weren't for you... if you hadn't been there..."

I compassionately embraced her. She broke down and began to sob as she tightly clutched me while resting her head against my shoulder with her body trembling. I gently rubbed her back while saying, "I understand, Shannon. It's alright. It's over now." After about a minute she calmed down and I felt her body relax.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's fine," I replied. "Everything's fine. You have nothing to be sorry about. _I'm_ sorry that you had to go through that." I glanced around for something to wipe her tears away with. After not finding anything however, I pulled my tee-shirt up over my head and handed it to her. She took it and while smiling and chuckling a little, she wiped her face.

"Thanks. I feel _a lot_ better. That was sweet of you. My mother said you spoke kind words to her last night. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, and, ah... thanks for your cool note. You have a great mom."

She nodded her head in agreement while handing my shirt back to me. She stood there staring at me. I could tell from her facial expression that she wanted to say more but she was hesitant. It was getting awkward, so I said, "I have to go and get ready for the dance tonight." She nodded her head in agreement and then followed me as I walked back toward the kitchen. Mrs. Muller was standing in front of the patio door with a solemn look on her face and her arms crossed in front of her. She had been watching us the whole time! She moved aside when I entered and I asked, "Mrs. Muller; is it okay if I shower and shave in the upstairs bathroom?"

"Of course, Lance."

"Can I watch?" asked AJ, excitedly. "I've never seen a guy do that before."

"I'll let you watch me shave _._ "

"That's what I meant," she replied while nervously glancing over at her mother.

"I know. I was just messing with you," I said while chuckling.

While now standing in front of the upstairs bathroom mirror, I began to lather my face. I turned and glanced over at AJ who was leaning against the far wall. "You know, AJ, I'm going to this dance tonight and I've never been to a single one in my life nor do I even know how to dance. I hope I don't make a fool of myself."

"Why don't you ask Shannon to show you how? She dances like a boss."

"I'll bet she does. I saw her doing her cheerleading routines on Monday and those moves impressed me."

"Do you want me to ask her for you?"

"No. I don't think that's a good idea," I replied while remembering her argument with her mother.

As I shaved, AJ asked, "Why did you help my mom and sister yesterday?"

"Why? Because you're like my second family and I care about you all. There was no way I was going to let those maggots..."

After a pause she asked, "Who called you on your smartphone when it rang in my mom's room?"

"You weren't even there. How do you know about my smartphone ringing?"

"Shannon told me about it."

"There was actually no one on the other end."

After another brief pause she asked, "Are you in love with my sister?"

"What's with all these questions?" I asked, now confused. "Why are you suddenly acting like some kind of detective?"

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled a silly grin. "Well, _are_ you?"

"You already know the answer to that question, so why are you even asking me?"

"I forgot what you told me."

"You're being goofy, AJ. You know I became infatuated with her when I first saw her picture on her dresser. I suppose I still am. Her looks are... off the scale, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, but apart from her looks, is there anything else you like about her?"

I thought for a moment. "I like the fact that she's very intelligent as well as... very caring... she's kind... and she's creative—to name a few. We also happen to share the same conviction."

"Why don't you ask her out?"

That question annoyed me and I conveyed it in my tone and look. "You're not making sense. She's Keith's girlfriend. I _can't_ ask her out. She's taken. On Monday night I tried asking her to the dance. Remember? Did being out in the hot sun yesterday affect your memory?"

Her face took on a hurt expression.

"I'm sorry AJ; I'm not trying to be rude to you. But we both know I had my chance and I blew it. We already had this discussion. If I could go back in time and change the past, I would. But it's too late. I didn't treat her properly and I lost her to another guy. What's done is done."

After yet another pause she asked, "What advice can you give a girl who in misjudging someone, chose the wrong guy for a boyfriend?"

"Eh?" I looked over at AJ and she glanced toward the door and then back at me. While drying my face off with a towel, I turned the corner and leaning against the door jam with a gloomy expression on her face was Shannon.

"I'm sorry Shannon. I didn't know you were standing there," I remarked, apologetically. She turned and went back into her room—closing the door behind her.

"Why did you do that, AJ?"

"It was her idea, not mine," she replied as she walked passed me. "Don't blame me."

***

After getting dressed, I went downstairs and Stacy asked me, "What would you like for supper?"

"Oh, I don't know; whatever you three want."

"Would you like me to get some Chinese take-out?"

"Sure. That's one of my favorite foods."

"Can I come, mom?" asked AJ.

"Yes. We'll be back in a little bit," and then she turned and left.

I went into the den and retrieved my Norman ST68 acoustic guitar from its case. Then I began to tune it up. I started playing songs I had written. I was into my fourth one when I sensed a presence behind me. I turned around to see Shannon standing there. She was dressed in a tight pink tee-shirt, super-tight white jeans, and white tennis-style sneakers. She was also wearing makeup like she had been on Tuesday evening. She looked absolutely, breathtakingly, _gorgeous_. The intoxicating scent of the perfume I had found on her dresser filled the room. In her right hand she was holding a CD. I gasped as my pulse and breathing rate immediately accelerated! "You play beautifully," she commented as she walked over to the stereo and put the disc in the CD player.

"Thanks. If you want to listen to music, I can go to another room."

"You can stay because I'm going to teach you how to dance."

"I... I really don't think that's a good idea," I nervously stammered while putting my guitar down and standing up.

"You can't take Reina if you don't know how to dance. You said you didn't want to make a fool of yourself and I don't want you too, either. Now come over here and stand next to me."

I didn't move, so she approached me. I started to back up. She continued to advance and I continued to retreat until my back was against the wall.

"Lance, you're being silly." She took me by my left hand and led me to the center of the room. "Now put your right arm around me like this, take your left hand and hold my hand like this, and just follow my lead. You're trembling. Why are you nervous?"

"I... I don't know."

"Just relax."

She began to slowly move around the room to the tempo of the music and I followed her lead. As we danced, she rested her head against my shoulder and I rested my head against hers. A feeling of total ecstasy began to fill my mind and body. I had never felt anything like this before in my life—holding this girl in my arms this way. The song on the CD played out and she tried to walk over to the stereo to turn it off, but I held her tight. She looked up into my eyes and softly asked, "Do you like holding me in your arms?"

"I'm... in heaven right now," I softly sighed.

She rested her head back against my shoulder. "Are all Canadian boys as fearless as you?"

"Ah... I'm sure if Keith had been around... he would have done the same thing. That perfume you're wearing, it smells fantastic."

"It's called 'Falling in Love _'._ It's my favorite." She again, looked up into my eyes and asked, "Why did you come down here all the way from Canada?"

"Oh, I don't know. I guess... I came down to get away."

"To get away from what?"

"I needed a break from... my family."

"I know what you mean. Was that the only reason?"

"No. Not really. I... also came down... to... to try and find... a girlfriend."

"Are there no girls in Canada?" she asked while smiling playfully.

"My best friend told me that California girls are the most beautiful in the world."

"And you believed him?"

"The girl I'm holding in my arms is absolute proof he was right."

"Thank you. What conviction do you share with me?"

"That I'm... you know... saving myself... for my future spouse."

Her eyes grew large. "You mean you're a—"

"Yeah, I thought you would have figured that out when you were cornering me about my love life yesterday morning," I replied while chuckling.

While shaking her head in amazement, she then began to slide her right hand over the inside of my left forearm. "What language is this tattoo and what does it mean?"

"It's traditional Chinese and it says honor and courage."

"And this one?" she asked while running her left hand over the inside of my right forearm.

"It means..." I hesitated.

She stared into my eyes. _Her_ eyes were like two sky-blue pearls and I found myself completely defenseless under her gaze.

"It says your mind is your greatest weapon."

A curious expression came over her face. Then starting at my stomach, she began to gently slide her hands up my torso while slowly and methodically feeling my muscles. My heart began beating so fast it felt like it was going to explode while my hormones raged against the walls of my self-control! I was succumbing to an overwhelming feeling of euphoria. Her right hand stopped over my heart and she asked, "Lance, are you feeling okay? Your heart should not be beating this fast."

I smiled and stammered, "It's... normally around... 40 beats... per minute." She laughed playfully while continuing to slide her hands up my chest towards my neck.

"Why is this key important to you?" she asked while examining it in her hand. "What's it for?"

"I... never had a father. When I was six years old a man saved me from drowning. He became like a father _to_ me and he homeschooled me almost my entire life. He didn't approve of my coming to California. He wanted to continue teaching me for my senior year. We had an argument about it that resulted in a falling out between us. The day before I was to leave to come down here, I drove over to his house to say goodbye to him. But he had disappeared. When I told my mother about it, she gave me an envelope. Inside it were this key and a note from him. This key is my last link to him.

"I'm sorry. I know how you feel. I too, lost someone who used to be close to me. What does it open?"

"I don't know. I only know the location of what it opens. I feel like it is part of my destiny to answer that question."

I continued staring into her eyes while remarking, "You know, you are absolutely _stunning_ and you have the most beautiful, blue eyes I have ever seen." Then I watched as an expression of deep desire came into them.

"I never told you this," she remarked in a soft, velvety smooth tone of voice, "But I think you're an _exceptionally_ good-looking guy."

I smiled.

"And, you have a fantastic smile. Kiss me, Lance."

Now my heart rate accelerated back to a dangerous level and I began to feel faint. "I can't _..._ kiss you, you're... Keith's girlfriend," I stammered. "I shouldn't even be... holding you like this." And using all the strength of will I could muster, I released my grip on her. But she held me even tighter while replying, "I want to be _your_ girlfriend."

I could feel my resolve and discipline evaporating as my hormones maneuvered to take control.

"Don't you want to kiss me?" she asked with a questioning expression in her eyes.

"More... than anything else in the entire world _,_ " I replied while gazing down at her full, succulent lips.

"Then... just _do_ it"

With my right hand I reached up to softly grasp the back of her head. Her hair was thick and silky soft. She closed her eyes as I drew her mouth toward mine. Then without warning, "SHANNON, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" pierced our quiet, romantic rendezvous. We both jumped back with a start as Stacy strode into the room. "Come with me young lady!" she angrily commanded. "We need to talk, _now_!"

***

One hour later I was in the driver's seat of Shannon's car. We were on our way over to the Cheponis' to pick up Reina. I glanced over at Shannon who was sitting in the passenger's seat. Her head was leaning against the window, her arms were crossed in front of her, and her eyes stared straight ahead. The expression on her face was a mixture of both pout and annoyance. We arrived, and Mrs. Cheponis answered the door while smiling at me.

"She's been anxiously waiting for you Lance. Reina, your date is here." Reina came downstairs wearing a tight, royal blue top, extremely tight, dark blue jeans, and black pumps. As soon as I saw her I thought of Shannon and one of the great mystery questions of the universe. How do girls _fit_ into pants so tight?

She happily greeted me and we walked over to the car. However, as soon as she saw Shannon sitting in the front seat, her countenance changed. In an irritated tone of voice she asked, "What is _she_ doing here?"

"She's going to the dance with us. Her boyfriend is away attending an out of state funeral; therefore, I'm driving her. I do live with them, remember?"

"Make her sit in the back seat."

_You've got to be kidding me,_ I thought while rolling my eyes and shaking my head. I gently tapped on the passenger side window. Shannon glanced up at me and slowly rolled it down.

"Would you sit in the back? Reina would like to sit up front with me."

"Excuse me?" Shannon replied nonchalantly.

"Could you please sit in the back seat?"

"Lance, this is my car."

"I know it's your car, but this is my date. I'm asking you to do this as a favor."

As Shannon reluctantly complied, Reina sarcastically commented in Japanese, "Where did she find enough grease to help her slide into those pants?"

_Look who's talking!_ I thought while again, rolling my eyes. Upon arriving at the school, we received numerous gawking stares from both guys and girls as the three of us made our way over to the gym. The dance was in full session with music blaring, students dancing, mingling around, and having what appeared to be a good time.

"Lance-san, would you like me to get us something to drink?" Reina asked.

"Sure, thanks"

She walked over to the refreshments table as I surveyed the room. I observed several teachers patrolling the perimeter. I also noticed a group of kids in the center of the floor. They were dancing in a sensuously provocative manner. "What kind of dancing is that?" I asked aloud.

"It's called grinding," replied Jill Cruse while approaching me from behind.

"Is that... legal?"

"As long as you can get away with it. Want to try it with me, Canada?"

"No thanks. I think I'll pass."

I scanned the area looking around for Shannon. I spotted her dancing with some friends and she was indeed, superb. I also observed several boys ogling her from the sidelines including Greg Schulman.

"She sure draws a crowd of guys around her when she's dancing, doesn't she?" I asked, impressed.

"Every time," Jill replied. "They're all wishing they were her partner. You're not the only boy who's been bitten by the Muller bug."

I slowly nodded my head in agreement. Reina came back and handed me a cup of soda. I thanked her for it. Eventually, a slow dance or couples song was announced and so I said to her, "Let's gives it a try." We walked out to the middle of the floor and I held her like Shannon had showed me. Instead of resting her head on my shoulder like Shannon had done however, she gazed intently into my eyes the whole dance.

"You are _very_ handsome, Samurai-san."

I blushed.

The song ended and she asked, "Can I thank you for bringing me to the dance?"

"Sure. I guess."

She reached up, gently held my face in her hands, and then kissed me so passionately that it immediately set my head spinning. In an instant my hormones were in total control. Not since Friday night with AJ had I felt this way. Then she did it again. After the third kiss I asked, " _What_ was _that_?"

"That technique is a gift from the French. Did you like it?"

"Are you kidding?" I asked through heavy breaths. "That was... unbelievable!"

We continued to kiss and abandoning any self-control, my hands began to freely roam over the curves of her body as did hers over the contours of mine. While focusing on our passion, I became oblivious to my surroundings until I felt a sharp pain in my left arm. I turned in annoyance to see Shannon standing beside me. While clutching my arm, she yanked me away from Reina and exclaimed, " _My_ turn."

I quickly followed her through the gym door to outside. Once there, I immediately grabbed her and pulled her hard against my body with my left arm around her shoulders and my right hand firmly grasping her behind.

"I want it French style." I commanded.

But she pushed me off equally hard while admonishing, "I didn't bring you here to make out with you. What happened to your so-called conviction? You've got nerve lecturing Keith about touching _me_ inappropriately. Were you going to let her completely seduce you in the middle of the dance floor in front of everybody?"

I was aggravated and my hormones were furious. "You're just jealous because that wasn't _you_ out there that I was kissing and had my hands all over!" I angrily exclaimed.

Her eyes got wide in shock and then she raised her hand to slap my face but I intercepted it and held her arm fast.

"Let me go!" she now cried while struggling to free herself from my grasp. I finally came to my senses and I said, "I'm sorry."

She continued to struggle and tears began to fill her eyes.

"Shannon! I'm sorry. Really, I am. _Please_ ," I pleaded while releasing her.

"Take me home, Lance," she sobbed. "I just want to go home."

"Alright, alright, no problem," I replied as I pulled a tissue out of my pocket and handed it to her.

She wiped her eyes as we walked back into the gym and I looked around for Reina. I saw her leaning against a wall with her arms crossed.

"Shannon wants to go home. Is that okay with you?" I asked as we approached her. But she ignored my question and stood glaring at Shannon with an intense look of venomous hatred in her eyes. It was a hatred that went beyond typical jealousy. I became alarmed. She got up in Shannon's face and said, "You have ruined my date and my night. You have dishonored me in front of him and everyone else here. I will _not_ forget what you have done."

I could see Reina's muscles tensing beneath her clothes. Finally, she turned and walked away. Shannon looked at me with concern and I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. I followed after Reina calling out to her, but she ignored me and went into the girl's restroom. After patiently waiting outside and calling to her for at least five minutes, I decided she was deliberately ignoring me, so I left her there. Shannon and I drove home in silence. As I pulled into the garage she remarked, "Lance, there are some girls who are only interested in getting one thing from a guy. Are you sure you want to go out with that kind?"

"Hey, Shannon?"

"Hey, what?"

"Thanks... for rescuing me tonight."

She sighed heavily while glancing over at me and softly replied, "You're welcome."

"Do you, ah... do you want to watch television... or go for a walk or something?" I asked. She looked at her watch and replied, "It's getting late and we have school tomorrow. Good night, Lance." I nodded my head.

My hormones however, were still in overdrive and five minutes later I went upstairs to her bedroom and knocked on the door. "What can I do for you?" she asked while standing in her doorway wearing a light blue, pajama shorts outfit.

"I was wondering... you know... if I could, ah, according to your family tradition, get a nice, long, good-night hug from you."

She stared at me for a brief moment and then replied, "I have a better idea. Why don't you turn around and go into the bathroom behind you."

"Okay."

"Take off all your clothes."

My heart and breathing rate both immediately accelerated. "My clothes? Alright!" I eagerly replied.

"Next, get in the tub."

The tub _?_ I thought. Oh man, my imagination fired up.

"Turn on only the cold water and then the shower. Stand under the shower for at least five minutes. Then dry off, put on your pajamas, and go to bed. Good night, Lance." And she shut the door.

I stood there staring at her closed door in frustration and disbelief. Finally, as I turned to leave, I saw AJ standing in her doorway with her arms open wide and a huge grin on her face.

"Go take a cold shower, AJ," I derisively remarked as I angrily went downstairs to bed.

# Chapter 20

I awoke the next morning and discovered that Shannon had already left for school. This was a big day because the first football game was tonight and she had to be there early for a cheerleading meeting. At the breakfast table Stacy gave me an envelope. I noticed she seemed moody as she handed it to me.

"Shannon asked me to give this to you," she remarked curtly. As I opened it, the smell of Falling in Love perfume gently wafted out. Inside was a note that read: _If you're going to let a girl get your motor running, Lance, make sure you know how to turn it off_ _and_ _maintain control of your car!_ She had signed it with a smiley face. I laughed hard. Stacy gave me a harsh look and so I quickly put the note away in my pocket.

After exiting the bathroom from having brushed my teeth, I bumped into AJ. "Why's your mom in a bad mood this morning?" I whispered.

"You seriously don't know?"

I shook my head no.

"My sister's in love with you. Tonight she's going to ask you to beg my mom to let you live here for the rest of the school year. She told me she's going to do whatever it takes to make sure you can stay. She's also planning on breaking up with Keith as soon as he comes back from New York. My mom is really ticked off about what she sees Shannon doing. Don't mention this to anyone else."

An incredible feeling of jubilation shot through me. Suddenly, I was on top of the world! I gave a fist pump, smiled a huge grin, and hugged AJ. She laughed.

Stacy continued to look perturbed as she drove AJ and me to school. I tried to ease the tension through conversation with her. "It looks like Keith is going to miss the first game. That's too bad."

"They have a talented back-up quarterback," she replied. "I'm sure they'll do fine without him for one game."

"Yeah, I'm sure they will."

Once in homeroom and upon seeing Reina, the passionate feelings I had experienced with her last night began to replay in my mind. I forced them out as I sat down. Shannon walked in and flashed me a huge smile. I returned it. In biology class, Reina sat down beside me. Before I had a chance to say anything to her however, Shannon came over to me.

"Last night you asked me out for a walk. Would you like to do that tonight after the game?"

"You bet I would!" I enthusiastically replied. She smiled and walked back to her desk. Reina stared at her with a look of hatred and contempt. The same look she had directed at Shannon last night.

"Reina, we need to talk. I'm sorry about what happened last night."

"Why did you leave me? Were you not enjoying yourself and having a good time?"

"I didn't want to leave you but you forced me to. You ran into the restroom and wouldn't come out. Neither would you answer me when I called to you. I was having a good time, but, ah... you're moving a little too fast when it comes to getting... ah, you know... physical in a relationship. I like you, but I hardly know you. Right now I only want to be your friend. I don't want to get physical with you anymore. Is that Okay?"

She looked over at Shannon, cursed her in Japanese, and said, "I was also enjoying myself until she interfered."

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She was just looking out for me. She... you know... cares about me."

"It is more than just caring," she replied sarcastically. "Are you deliberately trying to play dumb? Can you not see that she is in love with you?"

"Can I make up for last night before I leave?" I asked, not wanting to discuss her last comments.

"Yes," she replied while squeezing my arm. "I am sorry for coming on to you the way I did at the dance. I did not mean to offend you. I will not do it anymore. What would you like to do?"

"I'll think about it and let you know."

"Okay, Lance-san."

The morning classes came and went, but I wasn't paying attention to what was being taught. I was analyzing all probable scenarios as to how I could stay and what I could say to Stacy to convince her to let me live with them. Those thoughts were still running through my mind as I made my way over to the cafeteria. The next thing I knew, Shannon was by my side.

"I get to sit next to you on this lunch period," she said while grasping my hand.

"My treat today," I replied while smiling happily. "What's on the menu for Fridays?"

Before she could answer however, we walked in to see Reina sitting at one of the football team's tables. _What is she doing here?_ I thought. _This isn't even her normal lunch period_.

"Lance, on game day the players are given permission to all eat together," remarked Shannon with concern. "She shouldn't be sitting there because they'll be here any moment."

But her warning came too late. Greg Schulman and another boy had come into the room and they immediately strode over to where Reina was sitting. They sat down on each side of her. Greg began to play with her hair while the other boy began to play with her food. I heard Greg say, "You know, you're a steaming hot brunette and you can sit here on one condition. You have to meet us in the locker room after tonight's game. We'll show you our trophies and let you clean and polish them. Agreed?"

Reina looked upset and disgusted. My fists clenched in anger. I had enough from these prima donnas. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" I shouted. Instantly the cafeteria became silent and heads turned in my direction.

"No, Lance!" implored Shannon. She tried to grab my arm as I strode over to the table where they were sitting.

"Get away from her, _now_!" I angrily commanded. Greg stared at me as if I was insane. He stood up and then cockily approached me.

"How many times do I have to punch out your lights before you'll learn to mind your own business, bench-warmer?"

"I'm giving you fair warning," I cautioned. "I know martial arts. If you attack me, I guarantee I will destroy you... completely. After I'm done you won't be able to play checkers let alone football."

I heard Shannon behind me plead, "Please, Greg. Leave him alone. Don't hurt him" He looked over at her and while shaking his head in affirmation, replied, "Okay goddess, I won't hurt him."

As he turned to leave, he then quickly spun back around and swung his fist at my head. But having read his body movements, I was fully anticipating this. I intercepted his punch and grabbed his wrist while forcing it downwards hard until it finally snapped. A look of shock came over his face. Before the pain had time to register in his brain, I grabbed his other arm in a lock while quickly applying pressure until with a loud popping sound, it also broke. Finally, I grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face down into the nearest tabletop—breaking both his nose and jaw. I saw students wince when I did this. Others sat there silently gawking in astonishment with wide eyes and mouths hanging open. This whole counter-attack had taken about six seconds. While moaning and with blood streaming down his face, he collapsed in a heap onto the floor.

His buddy, with an enraged expression on his face, picked up the chair he was sitting on. While brandishing it like a club, he came charging at me swinging wildly. I sidestepped his blow and at the same time grabbed him by the throat. I followed through on his momentum and hurled him into the cafeteria wall so hard the wind was knocked out of him. He groaned and gasped for air as I locked his right arm and forced it back until his shoulder dislocated. Lastly, I kicked him hard in the side of his left leg at the knee—breaking it. He too, crumpled to the floor. This second counter-attack took all of about seven seconds. I walked to the center of the room and turned to face the students who were sitting at their tables. Every disbelieving eye was now fixated on me.

"Starting right now there's a new law in this school," I proclaimed, "My law. My law says that all tables are available to anyone and that any student can sit wherever they want with no fear of reprisal. My law says that if anyone steals food from anyone else they're going to end up like him," while pointing to Greg's crumpled body on the floor. "My law says that football players cannot do whatever they want and will get no special favoritism or privileges, just because they're football players. Any and all bullying in this school has now officially come to an end. Violators will face the consequences. From this day forward you are all free!"

It was a magnificent, albeit short speech in my humble opinion. But the reaction from the student body was completely opposite from what I expected. Instead of rejoicing or expressing gratitude, all they did was quietly stare at me. _Maybe they had all heard I was leaving tomorrow and I would not be around to enforce my new law_ , I thought. As I puzzled over this it finally dawned on me that they weren't staring _at_ me, but _past_ me. I slowly turned around to see the other football players lined up against the wall and leering at me. And they looked fighting mad. _They must have all come in during the fight and my little emancipation proclamation_ , I thought. I counted 25 of them. I immediately went into combat mode. Then I glanced over at Shannon and asked, "How important is the football program to this school?"

"It's... everything," she stammered with an expression of shock and awe on her face.

"Not this year. Do me a favor and say a prayer for them."

As they advanced toward me, I cautiously retreated to the open space provided by the construction renovation. This area would provide me more room to maneuver. _Maybe they will honorably fight me one at a time_ , I thought. As I was being surrounded, Ron Boyle sarcastically remarked, "Welcome to Hell Town, US of A, Canuck. When we're finished here, there won't be enough of you left to scrape off of the floor and mail back to your igloo."

I smiled while raising my hands, and then beckoned them to come at me. They complied with an all-out gang rush. _Well, so much for an honorable fight,_ I thought _. If it was a street fight they wanted, it was a street fight I would provide._ After piling on top of me, they began to blitz me with a vicious flurry of punches and kicks. Most of these blows were landing, but they weren't landing on me. Before crouching down, I had quickly snatched the smallest and lightest player, Ron Boyle, and was using him as a shield—holding him wrapped around my body like a poncho. As they unknowingly pummeled him, he screamed in agony. The players must have thought it was me, because they immediately increased the intensity of their attack. He shrieked, sobbed, and pleaded with me to release him. After about a minute, I forced myself up to a standing position while driving them back off of me. Then I dropped Ron onto the floor—a crying, battered, and bloodied mess. Now it was my turn.

They were football fast as they attacked, but I was a blur as I twisted and sidestepped my way through them—blazing a trail of pain, suffering, and retribution. While moving like the spinning Tasmanian devil of the old Bugs Bunny cartoons, I broke arms, legs, ribs, noses, and various other bones. As their numbers quickly thinned, I could tell by their facial expressions that they now had serious misgivings about having assaulted me. But it was too late. They had sown the wind; now they would reap the whirlwind. Even those who tried to attack me with chairs and other items that they found lying around were ineffective. I was too agile and they often ended up striking each other in all the chaos. At the end there were only two of them left; the guy who somehow had managed to get me in a bear hug and the one who stood in front of me with his knuckles lined up with my face. As he drew his fist back to punch me, I kicked him hard between his legs. His feet lifted a half inch off the floor. With a high pitched shriek and a look of death in his eyes, he clutched his groin and slowly toppled over.

I grabbed a middle finger of the other player and pulled it back until it snapped. Then while using a solid, devastating, back kick, I drove the heel of my right foot up into his groin as well. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. As he crumpled to the floor with bulging eyes, I struck and broke his left collar bone—just for safe measure.

The brawl was over. I had done my best to protect myself while making sure no one had been permanently maimed or killed. I turned to face the spectators and as I did, I was struck directly across the chest by Coach Pernell wielding a one by one inch wooden rod about four feet long. The blow snapped the club in half and ripped a tear in my shirt. My body was driven up and back to land on the condiments table; breaking _it_ in half and scattering little packets of mustard, mayonnaise, and ketchup in all directions. I heard Shannon scream as well as many others. I lay on the floor—stunned. My ribs were bruised and a long red welt began to form across my chest.

"He killed him," I heard someone worriedly remark. After a few seconds I shook my head to clear it, and then I slowly stood up. "No he didn't," replied someone else. "The guy's freaking _Superman_ _!_ "

I clenched my fists and began advancing towards Coach Pernell. He stared at me with fear and regret, and then turned and bolted out of the room. Now in pain, I slowly trudged across the room. As I did, students began to circle me. I glanced over at Shannon. Her wide eyes were full of wonder. Some kids began to clap and others joined in. In an instant; loud, tumultuous applause and cheers erupted from the crowd. Not since Moses freed the Hebrew slaves from Egyptian bondage had people experienced this much joy and freedom from tyranny. Everyone now approached me and while patting me on the back, remarked, "Way to go, that was totally insane, that was amazing, and so on." One student said it was better than a Hollywood martial arts movie. Another asked me how, when, and where had I learned to fight like that. Shannon compassionately came up and gently touched the welt that ran across my chest. I noticed neither concern nor sympathy for the groaning, shattered bodies of their former tormentors that lay strewn across the floor.

The students were about to lift me up on their shoulders and carry me around the room in a victory celebration when Coach Pernell, upon re-entering the cafeteria, screamed, "THERE HE IS! ARREST HIM!" Several S.W.A.T. Police Team members came charging into the room while brandishing assault rifles and began shouting, "GET DOWN, GET DOWN!" They then grabbed me and forced me to my knees. Everyone scattered out of the way. I thought it best to offer no resistance. They handcuffed my hands behind my back while reading me my rights amidst much booing from the students. Then after yanking me to my feet, they pushed me toward the exit. Reina stepped in front of me however, blocking my path. While staring intently at Shannon she remarked, "What do you know? There _are_ real men still left in this world. Thank you my Paladin, for rescuing me." She tenderly held my face between her hands and kissed me with a long, passionate kiss. The crowd vocalized their approval. One of the police officers finally said, "That's enough, miss; out of the way." Another officer took her by the arm and pulled her off of me. I don't know what shocked me more—the kiss or the words lifted straight out of Shannon's diary that had preceded it. With my head spinning in a daze, I glanced over at Shannon. She now looked confused and upset—like she was about to cry.

We continued out of the cafeteria and down the hall to the main entrance while passing by Emergency Medical Technicians. I could hear the wail of sirens outside. Principal Taylor was talking to police officers. As we passed by him, I yelled, "Principal Taylor, I need to talk to you!" He walked over to me and I said, "I'm going to ask you to set me free. This is an open and shut case of simple self-defense. There are over a hundred witnesses in the lunchroom that will support my claim that I was attacked and simply defended myself. There are also probably a half dozen pictures taken by smartphones that will also support this assertion as well. The most that you can do to me is to have me deported, and I'm leaving tomorrow to go back to Canada anyway. Save yourself unnecessary paperwork and drop the charges against me. Let me go."

"Young man, you have just destroyed this school's football program for the entire season while seriously injuring 27 students and you expect me to let you go—just like that? Take him away!" he commanded to the officers holding me.

# Chapter 21

The police escorted me outside where we were greeted by more ambulances arriving on the scene. There were also television news crews and other reporters gathering as well. As soon as they saw us, they gave chase while bombarding me with questions. I smiled at the cameras but kept silent as the police hurriedly put me in the back seat of a patrol car and drove me to the nearest station. While handcuffed and sitting there, I surveyed my situation and formulated an escape plan. As soon as we arrived at the station however, a call came over the car's radio that I was to be released because all charges against me had been dropped. After escorting me out of the car, my handcuffs were removed and I was led to an internment area. Two hours later Principal Taylor arrived and told me he had come to take me home.

"We are not going to discuss your behavior today in the cafeteria," he remarked. "The school has decided not to press charges only on the condition that you are on that airplane tomorrow returning to Canada as you previously stated. I'm also notifying your hometown high school of the situation and your status. I don't want to see you in my school again. If I do, I'll have you arrested for trespassing. Is that understood?"

"Yes. But I want you to know that Coach Pernell physically assaulted me for no justifiable cause."

"I am well aware of all the details of what took place this afternoon. I have more than enough eyewitness reports from both students and cafeteria employees. End of discussion."

He dropped me off in front of the Muller's house while remarking, "Goodbye, and have a pleasant journey home."

I said nothing in reply as I exited his car. Upon entering the house through the garage, I noticed Shannon's parked car. _I guess I gave everyone a half day of school today_ , I thought while smiling. Stacy was on evening shift and had she already left for work. My ribs were still sore, so I went into the family room to retrieve some bruise liniment and ended up using the last of it. I hadn't counted on needing this much when I had planned this venture and now it was all gone. I went upstairs to find Shannon. Her door was closed, so I knocked on it. She opened it and simply stood there staring at me. Her eyes were red and moist. I could tell she had been crying. Sitting on her bed was a tissue box and her opened diary with a pen beside it.

"What... do you want?" she finally asked with her voice breaking.

"I want to talk to you about what happened today in the cafeteria. I—"

"Did you have fun today showing off just to impress her?" she asked with bitterness in her voice.

"Eh?"

"How many other people did you share the contents of my diary with? Did you and Reina enjoy yourselves while making fun of my personal thoughts and feelings?"

"Now wait a minute—"

"I have nothing more to say to you, Lance Rock. Our relationship is over. Just leave me alone and go... go make out with your little geisha. When it comes to girls, that's all you know how to do anyway." She slammed the door shut.

Her words cut like a knife and broke my heart. A sick, depressive feeling began to form in the pit of my stomach as I stood there both stunned and speechless. She hadn't even given me a chance to share my side of the story. That quick, she had made up her mind that I was... some kind of... gigolo. I couldn't begin to fathom how Reina knew the contents of her diary. It had to be pure coincidence. There was no other rational explanation. I _was_ angry at Reina. She had feigned that she was going to honor my request to lay off physical contact. Instead, she did what she wanted regardless of how I felt. Plus, her being in the cafeteria at that particular time was a complete set-up. I would indeed meet with her and I would grill her until she answered my questions.

I decided to call the Cheponis' while asking to speak to Reina. When she found out it was me that was calling however, she told Mrs. Cheponis to tell me that she was sick and that we would be unable to get together.

"Look, Mrs. Cheponis. I really need to speak to her."

"Hold on a minute."

"Hello," said Reina finally.

"What's going on Reina? Why are you treating me like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You _know_ what I mean. You tricked me into rescuing you. The whole thing was a set-up. You kissed me when you agreed not to do that anymore and you intentionally said things that hurt and upset Shannon. It's as if you purposely planned on destroying my relationship with her. Why?"

"I am sorry. Honestly, I never intended to hurt you, my ronin. You truly are one of the nicest boys I have ever met. I liked you... very much. You _are_ leaving tomorrow after lunch, right?"

"Yeah, but you haven't answered my question? Why did you do this? Why do you have it out for Shannon? You don't even sound sick."

"I am sad that you are leaving, yet I am relieved as well. It was nice meeting you. Have a safe trip back to Canada tomorrow. You were an awesome kisser. Goodbye."

She hung up the phone. I couldn't believe it. I had never in all my life met someone who was such an enigma. And then she had the nerve to call me her ronin _—_ the lone, wandering samurai. This conversation and her behavior triggered a warning deep in the back of my mind, but I was too emotionally drained to consider it. I went and lay down on the couch. A short time later AJ came home. She excitedly rushed over to me.

"That is awesome what you did today," she exclaimed. "You're all over the internet. Check out these videos."

"Not now, AJ. I'm too tired. I need to rest."

As dinnertime approached, I heard Shannon tell AJ to come with her because they would be eating out.

"What about Lance," AJ asked.

"He's not invited."

"Why not?"

"Look, AJ, are you coming with me or not? I don't care. Just make up your mind."

"But it's Lance's last night with us. At least, I think it is. I thought you—"

"I don't have time to stand here and argue with you," said Shannon annoyed. "I'm leaving. Are you coming or not?"

"No. I'm not leaving Lance alone by himself on his last night here."

"Fine," she curtly replied as she slammed the garage door closed on her way out.

AJ came into the room upset. I looked at her and sadly shook my head. "It's over between your sister and I. Something happened at school, after the fight. I think... she hates me now."

AJ sat down and put her arm around me while not saying a word. We sat there for several minutes. Finally, I asked, "What do you want to do for supper?"

"Pizza usually cheers me up when I'm depressed."

"Pizza it is," I said while forcing a smile.

After dinner, AJ asked if I wanted to swim in the pool with her just like last Friday night. "That would be a nostalgic way to end my stay here," I answered. We went swimming, but my heart wasn't in it. I was too depressed. After drying off, I sat down and took the photocopied diary page that Shannon had given to me. On the back I wrote; _Shannon, I was only ever in love with YOU. I give you my word that I never shared the contents of your diary with anyone. Keep this as a memento that you were once in love with ME._ I signed it, _Your Diamond-in-the-Rough_ , _Lance_. I put it in an envelope.

"AJ, when I'm on that airplane tomorrow, I want you to give this to your sister, alright?"

She nodded her head yes. "You really _are_ in love with her, aren't you?"

"Yeah, ever since I first saw that picture on her dresser."

My sleep that night was haunted by two disturbing dreams. In the first dream, Keith and Shannon were on a date at an expensive restaurant and I was there with them. Keith was aware of my presence, but Shannon wasn't. After we finished eating, we drove back to Keith's house. I followed them upstairs as he led Shannon into his bedroom with the explanation of wanting to show her his "trophy." As I continued to tag along, Keith finally turned to me and said, "Sorry, this room is off limits to you, remember? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to add another notch to my bedpost." And with that he shut the door. I wanted to go in and warn her but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. I felt helpless and at the same time, extremely jealous.

In the second dream, I was saying goodbye to Shannon, AJ, and Stacy as I boarded the plane back to Canada. My heart was aching terribly as I looked at Shannon. I felt like crying. After sitting in the passenger seat and fastening my seatbelt, I looked out the window to see the girls on the tarmac waving goodbye to me. As I waved back, the three men from Wednesday—Kyle, Dwayne, and Rico—suddenly came up from behind them and then grabbed them! They screamed, and I tried to get out of my seat and get off the plane to help them. No matter how hard I tried however, I could not unfasten my seatbelt. The plane began taxing down the runway and in a panic, I shouted for help and pulled at the seatbelt but it would not unlock. I stared out the window as the girls faded into the distance while struggling to free themselves from their captors and holding out their hands—pleading for me to rescue them. I awoke in a cold sweat while shaking uncontrollably. I lay in bed for the next hour with my thoughts in turmoil.

At breakfast in which Shannon was absent, Stacy wanted to hear my side of the events which transpired yesterday at the school. She said there were countless, upset, angry parents, and there was also talk of a class action lawsuit. She said the hospital was a buzz of activity when she had arrived yesterday. She looked at me and commented, "It's probably a good thing you _are_ leaving."

After eating breakfast and packing my luggage, Stacy asked, "Is there anything else I could do for you before you leave as another way of expressing my gratitude for what you did for us on Wednesday? Would you like me to drive you down into Hollywood, or was there anything else you would have liked to have seen?"

I thought for a moment and I replied, "I brought a camera with me, but I never got a chance to take any pictures. Last Sunday, when AJ and I were driving on the way up to Galeto Beach, I saw a scenic lookout that overlooked the ocean. I'd like to go back there and take some shots of that area, if that's okay with you?"

"Sure. When would you like us to go?"

"Actually, if it's also okay with you, I was wondering if I could drive myself... and... I was also hoping... I could take the Ferrari out for a spin one last time."

There was a look of surprise on her face. After a moment she replied, "I'll let you take it, since the damage has already been done."

I puzzled over what she meant, but the elation of being able to drive this car again quickly pushed it out of my mind.

***

While now cruising down the highway, I was alone and obeying the speed limit. I had plenty of time to get to my destination, take pictures, and even return for lunch before we had to be at the airport. I began to reflect on the two nightmares I had from the previous night. I thought of the men returning and my not being able to do anything to help the Muller's. I made a decision. I would cut this little excursion short and I would stop by the police station on the way home. I would tell the police everything that had transpired; everything that I knew. I would not abandon Stacy, Shannon, and AJ to the continuing terror that they had been forced to live with. At this point, it was the only thing I _could_ do.

As I neared my destination, I looked for the dirt road off to the side that led down to the beach. It wasn't an official pull-off, but I suspected it wasn't a driveway on private property either. It was tricky maneuvering over the jagged, uneven path in a car that sat so low to the ground. I glanced around while searching for a place to park. The scene that met my eyes was straight out of a postcard. About an eighth of a mile away and diagonally in front of me was a picturesque cliff. It rose several hundred feet above jutting rocks which flashed white with foam from the ocean waves. From that vantage point, I'd be able to see for miles out into the Pacific Ocean. I grabbed my camera bag and I started hiking toward that part of the beach that sloped down from right to left of the precipice. As I approached the water, the smell of the salt and the sea grew stronger and made me feel happy.

I sat down in the sand and then I lay on my back to rest while staring up at the warm, golden, California sun. It felt good to just relax. The rhythm of the ocean waves crashing on the shore was audibly soothing. After several minutes, I stood up to take a few pictures. As I did, I noticed two fishermen on my left slowly making their way toward me. They were carrying big fishing rods; the kind used for casting deep out into the water. I immediately had a flashback of all the times Scott had taken me fishing. I liked fishing. It was challenging and yet relaxing at the same time. As they neared, I took a picture of them. I wondered if I had enough nerve to ask them to let me try my hand at casting a couple of times. I put my camera back in my carry-all as they came up to me. "Beautiful day for fishing," I remarked.

"It's a perfect day," said the shorter of the two.

"I'm Lance, nice to meet you."

"Steve," replied the short man. "And he's Danny."

"Do you come fishing here often? Is it any good?"

"My old man used to take me fishing here when I was a kid and it was good back then," answered Steve while gazing out at the ocean. "But that was a long time ago."

"I've never seen you fish," remarked Danny while looking at Steve and chuckling.

"Like I said," Steve replied, "It was a long time ago." Now turning his attention back to me he said, "I want to thank you kid. You couldn't have picked a more secluded spot."

"Yeah, I guess not many people know about this area, or come here," I replied while trying to figure out what he meant. "I've never done ocean fishing from a beach. Would it be okay with you if I tried my hand at casting with your rod a few times?"

"No," Steve replied. "We didn't bring any bait and we didn't come here to go fishing."

He dropped his rod onto the sand and then he unfolded a newspaper that had been tucked under his left arm. The headline on the front page read: "Superman in High School Brawl." He glanced at the picture under the headline and then back at me. It was a photo of me in the middle of the cafeteria fight that someone must have taken with their smartphone. A feeling of alarm began to creep into my mind and then came charging in when Danny also dropped his fishing gear and pointed a silenced 9 mm handgun at my chest!

"Like I just said, you couldn't have picked a more secluded spot," remarked Steve. "I want you to carefully drop that bag and empty your pockets."

I laid the bag on the ground and emptied my pockets—dropping their contents in the sand. "Now slowly, and I mean slowly, put your hands behind your head and step back..."

# Chapter 22

Steve cautiously walked over to the spot where I had dropped everything in the sand while keeping his eyes trained on me. He bent over and picked up my wallet while ignoring the change and the keys that were lying beside it. After spreading my wallet apart, he removed the bills and pocketed them. Next, he examined my driver's license. He turned to Danny and remarked, "He's from Ontario, Canada."

"He's a long way from home," Danny replied.

Steve put my wallet in his jacket pocket and picked up my bag. He reached inside of it and removed my digital camera.

"This is an expensive one," he remarked while examining it and smiling. "It even has your name engraved on the back."

"It was a gift on my seventeenth birthday from someone very close to me," I replied with apprehension.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement, grinned wickedly, and then turned and threw it out into the ocean. A surge of anger and grief shot through me and I lowered my hands into fists while adjusting my stance. Danny tightened his grip on his gun and said, "You just relax there, Superman. You're not bullet proof."

Steve then removed my smartphone from the bag and also threw it into the water. "Don't go looking so distressed, kid," he remarked sarcastically. "You'll be re-united with them soon enough. Now, walk on ahead of us up to the top of that ridge," he continued while pointing to the precipice that I had admired earlier and which had been the goal of this whole trip. "If you make any kind of move," he continued, "And I mean _any_ kind, Danny will empty his gun into you."

I trudged toward the cliff as a demoralized feeling mingled with dread began to overwhelm my mind. "How... did you find me?" I quietly asked.

"The Ferrari, kid," replied Steve. "We'd been watching the house since early this morning and lo and behold, our target gets in that car and leads us straight here."

"Why do you do that to Stacy and her daughters? Why do you treat them like that?" I had to keep my mind focused and questioning them would help ward off the panic that was now threatening to cripple me. They laughed and Steve asked, "What's it to you?"

"If I'm going to die for having helped them, I guess I feel I've earned the right to know."

"Fair enough," he replied. "Stacy is a bonus _—_ candy that the Chief rewards to certain men who in his opinion have earned it."

I shook my head. "How can a man do that to his ex-wife?"

"You just said it, kid. It's his _ex_ -wife. Nasty divorce from what I heard, since it was before my time. It went to court before a judge."

"But even his own daughters?" I asked.

"They also testified against him at the trial. He has no love for them. But he's not a monster. Up until this week it was only Stacy that we were allowed to... taste."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, kid, it was only when Stacy broke the rule and used what she had agreed not to, that her daughters became fair game."

"What rule was that?"

"The car; the one you just drove over here."

"The Ferrari?"

"Yeah, that car has a motion-activated remote GPS tracking unit hidden in it. Last Sunday, she drove it for the first time and it was tracked."

"But... I'm the one... who drove it," I stammered while now feeling nauseous.

"Then we can thank _you_ for providing two extra shelves in the candy store for us," replied Danny as they glanced at each other and laughed.

"No... AJ... Shannon, it's my entire fault," I whispered while slowly shaking my head in regret.

"AJ?" asked Steve. "I think that's the younger one who kicked Rico in the groin," he remarked while looking at Danny.

"Yeah, Rico has something very special planned for her," replied Danny. "He said she's the one who's going to be hobbling around and need to see a doctor after he's through with her today."

"Today?" I asked in surprise.

Steve glanced at his watch. "That's right, kid. They should be on their way over there at any moment now. Oh, and Kyle told me to give you a personal message. Actually, he was really torn apart trying to decide what would give him more pleasure; killing you or doing those babes. But... he chose them. He said, 'Tell the big-mouth punk that I'm truly going to enjoy taking away his fiancée's virginity, but that I'm not going to do it gently. Even though he won't be around to hear her screaming, please assure him that she will be—both loud and continuously'."

I was rapidly succumbing to debilitating despair as we finally reached the top of the cliff. They motioned for me to move within six feet of the edge. Steve knelt down in front of me and began to pull out handcuffs and weights from the bag he had been carrying.

"With this drop," he remarked while turning to face the ocean and then peering over the edge, "You'll die when you hit the rocks below. With these weights attached it will be weeks before they find your body; that is, if the crabs leave anything _to be_ found. When I was a kid they had a safety fence up here. I guess they got tired of replacing it every time young punks like you kept removing it. Lucky for me, huh."

My heart was feeling as heavy as the lead weights he was attaching to the cuff chains. I had brought more trouble on this family than they already had because of my insolence. I hadn't helped them at all. I had made things worse for them, and now for myself.

"Hey kid, you look a little out of it," said Steve while laughing. "We don't have many marks your age. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had a hit that was high school aged; if ever. But since you were asking _me_ questions, I have a couple of my own. The first one is: Who are you?"

"Who am I? I'm... really... nobody; nobody... from nowhere."

"Okay, Mister Nobody from nowhere. My second question is this: As far as we know you're not related to that family in any way. We're not sure of the exact reason why you're even staying with them. We know you're not engaged to Shannon and we also know that your father is not a police officer. Why did you stick your neck out for them the other day? Why did you, you know... try to protect them?"

"I don't know why," I replied while staring down at the ground. "I found myself at their house by accident. I guess I helped them... because... I truly do care for them and because... it's what I am."

He stared at me for a moment. Then while shaking his head and laughing loudly, he remarked, "No, kid, you're wrong. It's what you _were_. Now raise your hands so I can handcuff you."

I made no attempt to move. Danny stepped up next to me and put the barrel of the silencer against the left side of my temple. He said, "You can go over clean or you can go over messy with your brains splattered out all over the ground. Either way, kid, you _are_ going over. Kyle asked me to make you suffer first. Going over alive and screaming would be my preference as a favor to him."

As quick as a cobra strikes, my left hand shot up and grabbed the barrel of the gun while twisting it away from my head and out of his hand. At the same time the fingers of my right hand, like knife blades, jabbed him hard twice in the throat. While clutching his throat, he slowly dropped to the ground with gurgling and gasping sounds coming from his mouth. I turned and pointed the gun at Steve. He gaped at me in astonishment with his mouth hanging open. Then while cursing, he quickly reached into his bag and after fumbling around, pulled out a gun, pointed it at my chest, and pulled the trigger. I had frozen in fear! Nothing happened, and as he laughed while flicking off the safety switch, I fired a hollow point bullet right through the center of his forehead. The back of his skull blew off and the impact forced him backwards over the edge of the cliff. I stood there shocked. Then I dropped to the ground on all fours and vomited while sobbing—overcome with emotion. I had just killed a human being.

I rested there for half a minute while staring down at the sand. Finally, I forced myself up to a standing position. I turned around in time to see Danny charging at me with his face contorted in a murderous rage! He grabbed my shirt and pushed me toward the edge. As I was being forced back, I tripped over Steven's bag. While falling backwards, I grasped Danny's jacket. Then while pushing up and back with my arms and with my right leg in between his legs, I launched him over the cliff. As I landed on the ground, my torso came to rest half-way over the edge. He didn't make a sound as he dropped 200 feet to his death on the rocks below. Next, after moving sideways and forward, I rolled myself away from the edge. I lay on the ground for several moments with my body shaking. _These men have just tried to murder me,_ I thought. I was battling traumatic shock. My thoughts were in turmoil. _What should I do?_ I forced myself to relax and take deep breaths in order to calm down. _The girl I'm in love with and her family is in imminent danger. I have to stay focused. I have to try and help them._ While noticing Danny's gun beside me, I grabbed it. Then I stood up and sprinted back down the beach to retrieve my keys and make my way back toward where the Ferrari was parked.

Now understanding the trouble this car had caused—that it was nothing more than Gunther's tool to maintain his sick, psychological control over them—made me loathe it. But needing it to get back to the house, I jumped in the driver's seat and started it up. As I thought of the house, panic again, began to grip my mind. The girls were in terrible danger and I was far away—too far away. I had no idea if I would even make it in time. I floored the gas pedal. The car bounced over the rough path while bottoming out many times before I reached the highway. _Please let those men want to first have a meal like they did on Wednesday,_ I thought. _They were probably gloating, telling the girls I was dead—sadistically taunting them like on Wednesday_.

Shannon, AJ, Stacy—my heart went out to them. _If I could only get there in time,_ I thought. Once on the highway, I gunned the engine to maximum rpm's. Immediately, the radar detector sounded off and it lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve. On the spur of the moment, I came up with a plan. I would purposely exceed the speed limit and then have the police stop me. After they had pulled me over, I would explain the situation to them and also tell them to send someone over to the Muller's house. I quickly accelerated to 90 miles an hour—passing cars so fast it looked like they were driving in reverse. It didn't take long for me to see the blue and red lights of a highway patrol car in my rearview mirror. Out of the corner of my right eye I spotted Danny's gun sitting on the passenger seat. A red flag warning began to wave in my brain. _I'm in a car that may have been reported stolen. My driver's license and all my other identification are at the bottom of the ocean in a dead man's jacket pocket. I also have a silenced 9 mm handgun in the car and I'm speeding. Did I really believe the police would listen to my story and act upon it once I pulled over? I'd be arrested on the spot._ I had no choice. I'd have to drive all the way to the Muller's house and attempt a rescue without counting on assistance from law enforcement.

Traffic was becoming more congested and so I forced myself to concentrate harder. Scott had spent innumerable hours teaching me evasive-defensive driving techniques. He started teaching me how to drive as soon as my feet could reach the pedals. I was now going to put that training to the test. I began to weave in and out of traffic while continually shifting. I had to reach an open lane in order to go as fast as possible. Finally, I was clear of all traffic and I floored the gas pedal again. I glanced in the mirror and I was amazed to see the police car closing the gap. But he was still locked in by traffic and so I bid him, "Adios." I pushed the Ferrari up to 100 miles per hour and I was steadily cruising along when suddenly a white Dodge Charger bearing California Highway Patrol markings pulled up behind me. I couldn't believe it! He had caught up to me that fast. I continued accelerating up to 130 miles an hour, but he was also maintaining the very same speed. He drew up alongside of me and I quickly glanced over to see two police officers sitting in front. The one in the passenger seat was frantically signaling me to stop and pull over. I shook my head no. His expression turned to deep disappointment. Both cars now had to slow down as we encountered more traffic.

I weighed my options. If I remained on the freeway, I could make the best time. I was driving fast enough and I was in the middle of enough traffic to prevent the police from trying to use the Pursuit Intervention Technique maneuver. I didn't believe they considered me a big enough threat to warrant using it. I also knew they wouldn't try to shoot my tires out, either. However, tire spikes were a possible threat. If I ran over them and blew my tires out, it would be all over for me and the girls. I decided to maintain my present course of action. I accelerated and pulled out of traffic into the opposing lane. Once again, I was doing over 100 miles an hour. Three minutes later, I saw a momentary flicker of red and blue lights on the horizon. After spotting an exit, I instantly swerved back over into my own lane while braking and downshifting at the same time. The sound of honking horns and screeching tires from angry drivers filled the air as I quickly guided the car over toward the exit ramp. The Ferrari began to spin, and so I expertly counter-steered to compensate before almost losing control of it! I saw the patrolman in the Charger shaking his head in astonishment as he flew on by me. He hadn't anticipated my doing such a dangerous maneuver at the last possible second and he couldn't follow me in time. While sitting at the red light at the end of the exit ramp, I programmed the Muller's address into the GPS unit.

I was now on the outskirts of Santa Barbara and making great time by not stopping at any red lights or stop signs. However, it didn't take long for me to see and hear another patrol car in my rear view mirror. This was local law enforcement. They must have known who I was because he immediately attempted a P.I.T. maneuver. I accelerated at the last possible second and he missed. He was soon joined by a second car and together, they attempted to box me in. I had anticipated this move as well and I again, floored the gas pedal at the last possible moment to escape. In my rear and side view mirrors I could see the angry, frustrated expressions on their faces. It was time to ditch them. I took off down a side street while sharply zigzagging left and right at intersections and alleys. The GPS unit which was programmed with a female voice was doing its best to keep up with my driving. Although I'm sure it was only my imagination, it sounded as if there was a tone of exasperation in its voice as it continually made corrections based on my last minute direction changes.

I was now rapidly approaching the house. I knew the Lincoln Town Car would most likely be parked in the same spot as it had been the last time they had visited. The adrenalin enhanced car ride had completely driven fear out of my mind. In its place was anger—anger directed at those people who had tried to kill me and who were trying to traumatize the family whom I cared deeply about; including the girl that I was still in love with. The thought that I might be too late fueled my anger into rage. These maggots were not going to leave unpunished. I would make sure of it. But how was I going to stop them? That's when I devised the most reckless, treacherous plan that I had ever conceived. If the Town Car was still there, I was going to make sure it would never be able to drive away. I would destroy both it and the Ferrari in one single strike.

Scott had once discussed with me how to escape out of a moving car. I say discussed, because as he had remarked, "Lance, you just don't practice jumping out of a speeding car."

"Have you ever done it?" I asked him in the middle of our talk.

"Only once."

"How fast was it going?"

"Honestly, I don't remember. But it was fast."

He then explained to me how to do it—how to jump out of a moving vehicle and survive. There was something else he had told me that was incidental to this lesson that day, but I couldn't immediately recall what it was.

There was a median strip on the Muller's street that separated the north and south bound lanes. It had flowers, shrubbery, and trees growing on it—providing a good, relatively soft spot to jump onto. I removed the key chain from around my neck and stuck it into my back pocket. I took the gun off the passenger seat and tucked it into the back of my shorts. After swerving around a corner and turning onto their street, I estimated that I was now approximately one quarter mile away. I could see the black Lincoln Town Car parked in the distance exactly where I had anticipated it would be. As I approached it, I could also see a man standing in front of it. Actually, he had one foot on the back bumper and he was smoking a cigarette. It was Rico.

I floored the gas pedal and the car accelerated to 60 miles an hour. I set the cruise control and then I reached behind the back seats and retrieved the targa top plate. Rico glanced up as the Ferrari bore down on him, now only about 100 yards away. He smiled, probably thinking it was Danny or Steve. I steered the car toward him. His expression changed to one of concern, and then to one of terror as the car zeroed in on him. At 25 yards away, I stood up on the front seat and waved to him while flashing a big grin. He pulled out his gun and as he started firing, I held the top plate in front of my face and jumped. Bullets shattered the front windshield while whizzing on by me. I came into contact with the ground while hearing the sound of exploding metal, glass, and plastic all mingled with a horrifying scream! The top plate was torn out of my hands by the force of the impact, so I instinctively covered my face. My body was now rolling along the ground at 60 miles an hour—a human hyper-tumbleweed.

# Chapter 23

As my body bounced and rolled through shrubbery and flower beds, as my skin was scraped and bruised, as my clothing was torn and mangled, I suddenly remembered the additional comment Scott had made about this dangerous maneuver. He had said in a somber tone, "Lance, if you ever feel the need to have to jump out of a moving vehicle, make sure it is an absolute necessity. Be absolutely positive that it's a decision that _has_ to be made. Because and I'm telling you from personal experience, once you jump and hit the ground, believe me, you will never, _ever_ , in your life, want to do it again."

He was right. If I survived, I would never again attempt such a reckless, dangerous maneuver. My momentum was finally halted by a collision with a palm tree. I stood up, or attempted to. I was dazed, in pain, and the world was madly spinning around. I tried to walk, but I immediately collapsed back down onto the ground instead. I was too dizzy. I needed to get off the street before the men in the Muller's house looked outside and spotted me. The way to move while vertiginous is to focus your vision on a single object. I focused on their house and I lurched my way over to it. While passing by the wreckage of the cars, I spotted Rico, or what remained of him. His body had been torn in two by the impact of the Ferrari and the top half lay in a bloodied heap on the sidewalk near the half-crushed Town Car. It was then that I realized that had he chosen to jump out of the way instead of trying to shoot me, he could have easily captured or killed me now.

I stumbled over to the garage, plopped down in the grass, and then began examining my body. It reminded me of something out of a zombie movie. My tee shirt was ripped, but fortunately I had not broken any bones or sustained any deep lacerations. While ignoring the throbbing pain, I stood up, quietly opened the outside door, and then crept inside the garage. I reached back for the gun that I thought was still tucked in my shorts, but it was no longer there after having loosed itself free during my tumbleweed impersonation. After quietly opening the inner door, I could hear conversation coming from the den. It was the voice of Dwayne. I snuck up to the corner of the wall and peeked around it. He was standing in front of the window peering out of it while excitedly chatting on his smartphone. He was dressed only in pants. I paused. I had no desire to take anyone's life. I thought about Steve and Danny. I had killed them purely in self-defense. They had tried to murder me. I knew Dwayne and Kyle would also try to do the same thing given the chance. It was kill or be killed. Still, it was with great reluctance that I silently slipped up behind him and struck him hard in the spine. He gasped while dropping the phone and collapsing onto the floor with his body now temporarily paralyzed. I quickly wrapped my right arm tightly around his neck. With all the strength I could muster and while using my own body as leverage, I forced his head backward until his neck snapped. He sighed heavily and then his body went limp. I picked up his phone. "Who is this?" I asked.

"Who are _you_?" asked the voice on the other end.

"I'm the guy who just killed the guy you were talking to. Rico is also dead. After this conversation is over, I'm going to kill Kyle. Oh yeah, there were two other guys, Steve and Danny, who attacked me near Galeto Beach. I ghosted them too. I don't know who you are and I don't care. But you listen to me, and you listen very carefully. You picked the wrong guy to try and murder. This candy store is now closed—permanently. If any of you foolishly try to come back here again, I will kill you too. I will kill you _all_." Then I snapped the phone in half with my hands and threw it aside.

I crept over to the stairs and I quietly began ascending them. Quietly that is, until I heard cries of despair coming from Shannon's room. I was immediately filled with rage and so I bolted up the stairs to the second floor. Her door had been forced open and as I stood in the doorway gazing into the room, there was Kyle. He had Shannon pinned up against the far wall. With one hand he held her immobile and with his other hand he was furiously trying to tear off all of her clothes. His mouth was all over her face!

"GET OFF HER!" I screamed in fury. I spotted his gun holster on the chair near the desk and dove for it. He quickly spun around and threw Shannon onto her bed while also trying to reach for the gun. We both arrived at the same time, and a vicious struggle for possession of it took place. I drove my right elbow into his nose—breaking it. As I pulled the gun out of the holster he savagely rushed at me while driving his shoulder hard into my chest. The blow sent me flying backwards against the wall with such force that it knocked the wind out of me. The gun went sailing out of my hand and through the doorway. With blood gushing out of his nose, he charged at me again. I sidestepped him while trying to regain my breath. He was as fast and as strong as an enraged grizzly bear and in the small confines of the room, I couldn't completely avoid him. He grabbed my left arm and yanked me toward himself. Next, he picked me up as easily as a five pound bag of potatoes and then tossed me through the air straight into Shannon's dresser.

The force of the impact shattered her mirror while showering me in fragments of glass. Shannon screamed. I was _still_ trying to catch my breath when he again charged over, picked me up, and threw me into her bookcase. He laughed menacingly while shaking his head—scattering droplets of blood everywhere. All at once I lost my will to continue this fight. I needed time to get away and recover. I needed time to catch my breath. My body was taking too much of a pounding. I could hear the wail of approaching sirens outside. While gasping for air, I tried to crawl toward Shannon's door and open space to seek help from the police.

"Oh no you don't, you big mouth punk." Kyle growled. "I don't know how you made it this far, but there's no way you're escaping me. I promised you a beating that would make you beg me for death and that's exactly what you're going to get. You're not leaving this room alive!"

Once more, he snatched me up in the air. He extended his knee and I knew he was going to try and break my back on it. But I flipped out and away at the last second to safely land on the floor. Then, while using Close Quarter Combat techniques, he proceeded to repeatedly attack my body, further aggravating my already bruised ribs. In my weakened condition, I tried my best to evade his blows while protecting my face and head. The next thing I knew, I was laying on my back with him sitting on my chest while clutching my throat with his hands. I grabbed his wrists and restrained them.

"You know what, smart mouth?" he mockingly asked, "I don't even need a gun. I'm going to squeeze your neck until your head pops off using only my bare hands."

I had never been in a fight like this—struggling in the small confines of a room against a vicious, grappling brawler who was hell-bent on murdering me. As my will to fight evaporated, I resigned myself to the truth that he was probably going to succeed. That is until he made a huge, tactical error. He began to taunt me by describing in a graphic and profane way what he was going to do to Shannon sexually after I was dead.

This immediately changed the direction of the fight in two ways. First, it helped me realize and refocus on the reason why I was there; the reason why I was even fighting him. Secondly, it gave me the resolve and strength to make sure that what he had just described would never, ever take place. My resting there on the floor provided me with the opportunity to fully regain my breath, and now having recovered, I was furious. He _was_ strong. But so was _I_. I squeezed his wrists with all my might. His eyes began to bulge and he gritted his teeth in pain. Slowly and surely I began to force his hands up and away from my throat.

While keeping a tight grip on his wrists, I continued to force him up and off of me. I swung my legs around underneath him and placed my feet against his chest. He struggled and fought to free himself, but I had him locked in a vice-like grip. With all my strength, I pushed my feet against him while at the same time I released my hold on his wrists. His body shot back and brutally slammed into the wall—cracking it. He was now stunned. I flipped myself up to a standing position and rushed over to him. After locking his left arm, I wrenched and dislocated it at the shoulder. He grunted loudly in agony. I grabbed him by the throat with both my hands and yanked him to his feet. Then I pummeled his chest and face with my hardest punches. My hands were like granite jackhammers against his flesh and bone. Finally, he collapsed in a heap on the floor—bruised, bleeding, and beaten. Now exhausted, I turned around to face Shannon. As I did, I heard a clicking sound from behind me. Instinctively, I moved aside as he lunged at me with his uninjured arm while trying to bury a Recon-1 knife into my back. I couldn't believe it. He was a bull of a man and he was going to die _hard_. As he swung the knife at me again, I grabbed his wrist and redirected the blade into his chest. He stared at me in shock and disbelief.

"There are two kinds of people in this world, maggot," I triumphantly remarked while standing over him with my fists clenched. "Those who deserve to live and those who deserve to die. Now go join your cronies on the other side."

With his last dying breath he toppled over and gasped, "Who... are you?"

My eyes drifted from his lifeless form to my bloodied hands. They were shaking uncontrollably. I felt light-headed, too. I turned around to once again, face Shannon. She stood up and then fell into my arms while sobbing heavily. I held her tight. For several minutes we embraced. Finally, she stared up into my face as I wiped her tears away.

"Is he... dead?" she asked while glancing down at Kyle's body.

"He will never bother you again," I replied while still breathing heavily.

"They said... they said...," but she couldn't finish the sentence.

"They told you I was dead," I remarked matter of factually.

She nodded her head yes. "This morning AJ gave me your note and said, 'He's in love with you Shannon. I think you're making a huge mistake in the way you're treating him.' She was so right. I have made a huge mistake. I've always had boys chasing after me, Lance. I've never had to pursue any guy. Yesterday, when I saw you with Reina and what she said and did, I became angry and jealous like I've never been before in my whole life. I know I've treated you unfairly. I _do_ love you, Lance, and... I need you. Will you... forgive me for the way I acted?"

"How can I not forgive the girl _I'm_ so in love with?"

She hugged me tightly and I stroked her hair. "I give you my word right here and right now, Shannon Muller. Never again will I leave you alone when your life is in danger. I will always protect you and your family from this day forward. Now, we need to check up on your sister and mother. You'd better go into your mom's room first."

She reluctantly released me, and I followed her over to Stacy's bedroom. She entered the room but she came out distraught and not able to speak.

"Is she... decent?" I asked. Shannon nodded her head yes. I went in. Stacy was lying on her bed covered with a blanket. Her pants, blouse, and underwear were strewn about the floor. Dwayne had handcuffed her hands to the headboard. He had also gagged her. I looked around the room and I saw his jacket on a chair. A quick search yielded a key which I then used to unlock the cuffs. I removed the gag. She wrapped the blanket around herself as Shannon gathered her clothes. They both went into the bathroom. After having dressed, Stacy came out and then over to me. Without saying a word she held me in her arms. I held her tight and then she started to cry.

"When they told us they had killed you, my mother...," remarked Shannon.

"It's okay Mrs. Muller," I said while trying to comfort her. "I'm alright." But in reality, I wasn't. My body felt like it had been forced through a six inch meat grinder. Stacy held my head between her hands and kissed me on the forehead. "Thank you," she said weakly. "Lance, look at you," she continued, "You look... terrible. You need to go to the hospital ASAP and get medical attention."

"Not right now, Mrs. Muller," I sighed. "Where's AJ?"

"In the safe room," she replied. "The man named Rico was beside himself when she broke free of his grasp and escaped. He was doing everything he could to try and get that door open. He was even going to shoot it, but Dwayne ordered him to go outside and wait. Where are the other men?" she asked with apprehension.

"In a place where they can no longer hurt you."

She stared at me in amazement. We walked downstairs and I went over to the panic room door. Looking up into the camera I said, "Come on out AJ, or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow this door down."

The door swung open and she came bounding out and then leaped into my arms.

"I knew they couldn't kill you!" she exclaimed, overjoyed.

I heard a loud gasp behind me and I determined that the girls had discovered Dwayne's body. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding at the front door! Stacy cracked it open and standing there was a uniformed police officer.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but is this your car?" he asked while pointing to what was left of the Ferrari.

Stacy and Shannon stared at it. There was a loud commotion going on as fire trucks, police cars, ambulances, and a crowd gathered around the wreckage of the two vehicles. I stepped outside to get a better look and a kid from the crowd shouted, "There he is, mom! There's the boy I saw jump from the car!"

"Did you see what happened here?" asked the patrolman while turning his attention to me.

"I did."

He took out a notepad and commanded, "Start talking."

Before I could say anything however, a plain clothes officer came up, flashed a detective's badge to the patrolman, and said, "I'm taking over this investigation."

The uniformed police officer acknowledged his authority, put his note pad away, and then left.

"Hello, Mrs. Muller," said the detective.

"Hello, Inspector Carter," replied Stacy.

"You know this man?" I asked Stacy.

"Inspector Carter was the officer in charge of the investigation when I filed my complaint about being assaulted," she replied.

"Wait a second," I remarked. "This is the guy who you talked to about being repeatedly attacked and he did nothing about it?"

Carter turned to me and said, "Now you hold on there a minute, son."

"I'm not your son, Detective Carter," I remarked, sarcastically. "Let me ask you a question. If men came into your house and repeatedly raped your wife and then attempted to rape your daughters, would you just _let_ them? This woman filed a complaint with you that that is exactly what happened to her, and apparently you've done zero to help or protect her since then. You're either lazy, incompetent, or on the take. Which is it?"

His face became flushed in anger. "Who are you? What's your name?" he tersely asked.

"Lance," admonished Stacy. "That is no way to speak to a police officer."

Inspector Carter relaxed and said, "Let's start over here." Looking at me he said, "You were about to tell Officer Miller what you saw. Would you mind telling me? But first I need to know who you are and what is your relationship with this family?"

I shared my background information and Stacy corroborated what I said.

"Now, can you tell me what transpired here?" he asked.

"There's not a lot to say," I replied. "Two men tried to kill me up near Galeto Beach. They told me that there were three men in this house who were going to rape Mrs. Muller and her daughters. Instead of succeeding in killing me however, they died instead. Their bodies are in the ocean somewhere near Galeto. I sped over here in that Ferrari and then I decided at the last second to crash it into the Lincoln Town Car to prevent it from leaving. The man named Rico was standing in back of it. Instead of moving out of the way when he had the chance to, he pulled out a gun and started firing at me while trying to kill me."

"How fast were you going when you crashed?" Carter asked.

"Approximately 60 miles an hour."

"How did you escape from the car?" he continued while surveying the wreckage.

"I jumped out of it."

"You jumped out of a car moving at 60 miles an hour and you're standing here alive to tell us about it? How is that even possible?"

I said nothing, but Stacy and Shannon stared at me in astonishment.

"There are two more bodies inside the house if you care to know," I remarked.

"Show me."

I led him over to Dwayne's body. He bent down to examine him and feel for a pulse. "How did this man die?"

"I broke his neck between the C3 and C5 vertebrae."

"You broke his neck?"

I nodded my head yes.

"There's one more upstairs," I remarked.

While we walked up to Shannon's room, Carter made a call on his radio. Upon entering her room and seeing Kyle's body, a look of shock came over his face.

"You killed _this_ man too? What are you?"

"Just a high school senior trying to stay alive long enough to graduate. Do you know him?"

"No. Why?"

"There was a look of recognition in your eyes when you saw him."

He glared at me suspiciously and remarked, "I've never seen him before in my life. Look, Mr. Rock, I'm going to need identification from you. I'm also going to need you and the others to fill out a report."

And so for the second time in as many days, I found myself on the way to a police station.

# Chapter 24

We were now riding in Stacy's sedan while following Inspector Carter's car to the police station. Stacy was driving and AJ sat in the front passenger's seat. Shannon and I sat in back. I had my left arm around her shoulders as she leaned her head against my chest with my right arm resting on top of her lap. She looked up into my eyes, smiled, and quietly said, "Thank you for rescuing me again."

"I'd like to say I'd never get tired of doing that," I replied while sighing and smiling back, "But I am starting to."

"How are you feeling, Lance?" asked Stacy.

"Like I could use a month long Hawaiian vacation, but I'll take an hour soaking in your hot tub when we get back home instead."

AJ laughed and Shannon smiled and squeezed my hand. Stacy looked at me in the rear view mirror and said, "It's a wonder you have no broken bones. Lance, you are under no obligation to stay with us through all of this. You've missed your flight back to Canada, but I'm sure I can book another one as soon as possible."

"I'm not going anywhere, Mrs. Muller. Shannon and I are in love with each other and I gave her my word that I will be here to protect the three of you."

There was a look of resignation on her face at this statement.

"Keith is going to be home within the next hour," sighed Shannon glumly.

I knew she was trying to think of what to say when she broke up with him. However, I was formulating a plan to keep that from happening. I just hadn't informed her about it yet.

"What did your mother say when you told her you weren't coming home?" asked Stacy.

I looked out the window and reflected on the conversation I had with her. She did not sound well and it was difficult to keep from being emotionally overcome. I had given her limited information concerning what had happened and why I wouldn't be on the flight back to Canada. I did not want to frighten her unnecessarily, so I had left out key information like the details about men trying to murder me! I told her not to worry though, that I'd speak to her again soon, and that I hoped she was feeling better.

"My mother understands," I replied. "She said she's looking forward to eventually meeting Shannon and you all. She said she can hardly wait to see what the most beautiful girl in the whole state of California looks like." Shannon gave me a surprised look and then playfully elbowed me in the ribs. I groaned in pain and she apologized profusely.

We arrived at the police station and Stacy parked the car. We followed Inspector Carter into his office. The first order of business was to give him my passport and student visa since my driver's license and other identification were at the bottom of the ocean. He took them from me and told me he was going to hang on to them. He said he didn't want me leaving the country until the investigation was complete. For the next couple of hours we filled out paperwork as well as each giving our side of the events that had transpired. When it was over he remarked, "That's it, you're free to go."

Stacy got up to leave but I said, "Wait a minute, we're not done yet."

Both Carter and the girls quizzically stared at me.

"They," I said while pointing to Stacy, Shannon, and AJ, "Are going to need police protection tonight."

"Why?" asked Carter.

"Because whoever I talked to on Dwayne's smartphone is going to send men over to try and kill us."

"You talked to someone on Dwayne Hickman's phone? Why did you wait until now to mention this? Who was it?" he asked with concern.

"I don't know who he was. But I reprimanded him while daring him to come back."

Stacy and Shannon stared at me with both concern and disbelief.

"Therefore," I continued, "They're going to need protection."

"This station does not have the available manpower to afford you or them personal protection. I'm sorry, but with budget cuts and under staffing it's a wonder I'm still employed. Do you have any place you can go or stay for awhile until we can find out the source of all this trouble and then make the proper arrests?"

I had anticipated this response from him and I replied, "The source of all this trouble is her ex-husband. You already know that from the report we just filed with you now and from the one she had filed with you previously. But for whatever reason up to this point in time, you have failed to follow through on arresting him."

Carter's face began to get flushed. Then Shannon's smartphone rang.

"It's Keith," she said.

"Tell him you've been waiting for his call and that you miss him very much. Also, tell him that you're at the police station and that you need him to get over here right away."

She stared at me dumbfounded.

"Do it," I softly commanded.

Though embarrassed and uncomfortable, she complied.

"Here's my plan," I suggested. "We are going to stay at Keith's estate tonight. He has in-house security as well as an alarm system. We'll be relatively safe. I believe Gunther does not know about Keith or his relationship to Shannon. He won't come there looking for them or me. You can have a patrol car cruise around Stacy's house and have it be on the lookout for anything suspicious. In the mean time, you can follow through on finding Gunther. I'm guessing he'll be too cautious to do anything out in the open in broad daylight. So, we have until this evening to prepare for his arrival. I need you, Inspector Carter, to speak to Keith. Explain to him our situation and request his help. Does this all make sense?"

Carter sat there a moment while scratching his head and staring at me.

"What's the address of Keith Mitterhauser's house?" he finally asked.

"It's the Mitterhauser estate," I replied. "You know, Peter Mitterhauser of The Mitterhauser Group of companies."

" _That_ Mitterhauser?" he asked while glancing at Shannon.

"Yes." I replied.

Shannon looked at me curiously. Mitty arrived 30 minutes later. I was sitting alone in Stacy's car as I watched him stride into the building. He seemed to be highly agitated. I felt sorry for Shannon but I knew it was best if I not be present with them.

***

"That went smoother than I thought it would," I remarked while glancing around at the girls as we drove back to their house. They said nothing.

"Keith looked like he was in a really bad mood when I watched him walk into the station," I continued.

"He was _,_ " said AJ while smiling. "He came in all mad and upset, wanting to know about you, about yesterday's fight in the cafeteria, and about what was going on, until..."

"Until... what?" I asked.

AJ smiled broadly while glancing over at Shannon and replied, "Until Shannon grabbed him and gave him an incredibly awesome kiss. It shut him right up."

"You did not!" I exclaimed while looking over at Shannon in shock.

She stared at me nonchalantly. "This was your idea, remember? And since you decided to hide in the car..."

I sat there in silence—annoyed, aching, and envious the rest of the ride home.

***

I was free-falling at 126 miles per hour. I glanced at the digital altimeter strapped to my left wrist. It read 30,000 feet. I gazed over at the horizon stretching hundreds of kilometers in the distance as the sun began to rise. It was a gorgeous blend of pink, orange, and red hues. I could hear the sound of my breathing through the facemask strapped to my head, even above the rush of the wind. The tank that was strapped to my stomach provided the necessary air to breathe at this altitude. I looked over on my right. Scott was falling beside me and gave me a big thumbs up, which I then returned. This was my first HALO or High Altitude Low Opening jump and the feeling of exhilaration was overpowering. Suddenly, a voice shouting, "LANCE, LANCE!" shattered my dream and brought me back to reality.

"Lance, how long are you going to soak in that Jacuzzi?" asked Shannon while standing in the doorway of her mother's bathroom and staring at me. "If you stay in there any longer, you're going to look like a prune. Were you asleep just now?"

"Yeah," I replied while yawning. The churning hot water and soothing bubble action had lulled me into a nice long nap.

_Why don't you put your white bikini on and join me?_ I thought while gazing intently at her.

"No, we don't have time for me to get in there with you," she remarked.

My mouth dropped open in surprise.

"I've been around boys long enough to know how to interpret certain facial expressions," she continued while crossing her arms, rolling her eyes, and then turning and exiting the room.

After being compelled by Inspector Carter and after having gotten his father's permission, Keith had reluctantly agreed to let us stay at his house for the rest of the weekend. His parents were staying in New York until Monday to settle paperwork regarding his grandfather's estate. Shannon was not at all happy. She had planned on breaking up with him. Now she had to continue to be his girlfriend. I knew she would be even more dejected when I told her I wasn't going with them.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming with us?" she asked in shock.

"I'm staying here in your house. If I've calculated correctly, your father will send men back here tonight to try and retaliate. I'll be waiting for them. I'm going to put an end to his little game once and for all."

"You don't even have a gun or any other kind of weapon," remarked Stacy with concern. "How are you going to handle them? You'll be killed for sure this time."

"This whole house is filled with weapons," I replied, reassuringly. "The kitchen alone is an arsenal. Believe me, I am not lacking in armament."

"But Lance, I want to be with you," pleaded Shannon. "I don't want to be at Keith's house without you. I need—"

"You're going to be fine. Trust me. Just keep brushing him off. Don't kiss him anymore or get his hopes up. He'll leave you alone."

AJ laughed loudly when I said this and Shannon turned and gave her a nasty look. I looked at AJ and asked, "Can I borrow your smartphone?" She handed it to me and I said "You're all going to be fine. But if anything should happen, call me on her smartphone. Okay? I'll be over there ASAP."

Shannon nodded affirmatively, wrapped her arms tightly around me, and then vigorously hugged me—making it extremely difficult for me to say goodbye.

"Look, don't worry about me. The police are supposedly going to increase patrols around this area. I've got them as back up, too. Hopefully, between the two of us, we'll apprehend your father and bring him to justice."

Shannon gave me her car keys and then they left. I set about making extensive preparations to defend against a home invasion.

Several hours later I was lying on Shannon's bed. I surveyed the room while noting the damage that had been done in my fight with Kyle. There were cracks and holes in the wall and shattered glass fragments and bloodstains on the carpet. I glanced at my watch. It showed 10 PM. All of a sudden the phone rang, startling me.

"Hello."

There was a pause on the other end and then, "Canada? Is that you?"

"Jill."

"What are you still doing there? I thought you told me you were leaving today?"

"I was, but there was... I had a change of plans. I missed my flight and I'm staying for the weekend, possibly even longer."

"Oh... that's... oh."

"Um... were you calling to talk to someone here?"

"I was calling to talk to Shannon. Look, Canada, I was calling to do what you asked me to do. To do the favor you wanted, remember?"

"You mean you were actually going to talk to Shannon and tell her about Keith? That's great, I mean, that's really nice of you to do that, Jill. But Shannon and I are now boyfriend and girlfriend... kind of... though it's not completely official, yet."

"Wow, really? Way to go, Canada! Good for you! I had a positive feeling about you two. You'll make a great couple. Certainly, a hot looking couple. Can I talk to Shannon? I'd like to give her congrats."

"You can't. She's spending the weekend at Keith's house."

"She's what? You're putting me on, right?"

"No. It's a long story and... complex. Nothing is going to happen between them... at least... I think... I hope not, anyways. It's kind of complicated. She's over there and she's safe."

"If you say so, but this sure sounds a little weird to me. When you see her tell her I said Hi and congratulations. Oh, and by the way, what you did in the cafeteria yesterday—that was simply amazing. There are a lot, and I mean _a lot_ of kids who are grateful to you. You have some sick fighting skills."

"Thanks, Jill."

"Thank _you_. Well, I should be going. I'll... Hey; will I see you in school on Monday?"

"That's another thing that's kind of complicated. I'm not sure I'm allowed to return, but... we'll see."

"Okay. Hopefully, I'll see you, then. Goodbye, Canada, umm, Lance."

"See you, Jill."

I lay back down in bed. I let my thoughts drift back to the past week while replaying the highlights. It had all started with Shannon's diary. Her diary! I felt under the covers for it. Not there. I went to her desk drawer. No luck. She probably took it with her. I glanced down under her bed where I had put it last Friday night. It was sitting on the floor. I picked it up and noticed it was unlocked. Upon opening it, I discovered a note tucked in front. It read: _Lance, I knew you'd probably want to read this so I left it here to see how good your memory was. Don't bother trying to find yesterday's entry. I regretted writing it, so I ripped it out and threw it away. If you haven't already done so, feel free to read about the rest of my life. I love you and I want you to know_ _all_ _about me_. She had signed it with a heart and a smiley face.

I smiled as I lay down on the bed and began to peruse the journal. _Wow, she really is creative,_ I thought, as I read several entries that made reference to her secret, personal dream of becoming an artist. I became so absorbed in the diary that I lost track of time. The next thing I knew, it was eleven o'clock. I got up and turned off the light to let my eyes adjust to the dark. It was then that I heard it—an almost imperceptible creak of the stairs. Unperceived to the average person that is. But my senses were at a heightened level. I had been in combat mode since this morning and in fact, I had never come out of it. I swiftly and quietly made my way over to the space between her dresser and the desk while crouching down to hide. I sensed a presence cautiously and silently enter the room. I peeked around the corner of her dresser and immediately my heart skipped a beat! Standing just inside the doorway of the room was the shadow being that I had seen in my semi-conscious state a week ago.

The black, shadow-like figure had returned. A cold, paralyzing fear began to grip my heart and nerves. My pulse rate was pounding and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I wanted to run, but instead I resolved to remain calm and stay focused. I forced myself to study it. As I did, its outline became clearer. It was unmistakably the shape of an abundantly curvaceous female dressed in a form-fitting, black body suit. I noticed the handles of two wakizashi short swords protruding from where they were strapped to her back. She was also wearing night-vision goggles. This was not an unworldly apparition. No phantasm would be wearing such equipment. I stood up and as I did, she quickly glanced in my direction. I flicked on the lights. There was a scream of pain and shock as the light, amplified a thousand times by the goggles, assaulted her eyeballs! I rushed over and tore the goggles off of her head and then received a shock of my own as I stared into the face of Reina!

"What are you still doing here? Where is everyone else?" she asked while rubbing her eyes.

"They're all over at Keith's house. What are _you_ doing here, Reina? Why are you dressed like that? You've been in this house before, snooping around, haven't you?"

She nodded her head in agreement.

"Last Saturday night, right?"

"Yes."

"You found and read Shannon's diary?"

"Yes, Lance-san," she again replied while looking at me.

Suddenly, she began to waver like she was about to faint. I reached over to steady her and as I did, she quickly grabbed my right arm with her left hand. Then while stepping forward, she powerfully drove a knuckle from her right fist into the axillary nerve under my right arm pit. It felt like a nail had been hammered into it! The explosion of pain instantly crippled me and I dropped to the floor—now nothing more than a dead weight. She hurriedly removed the two swords and a back pack that she had been carrying.

"Why are you still here?" she asked in an angry, distressed tone of voice.

"It's... a long... story," I gasped while writhing in agony on the floor from the nerve strike. "Why... did you... do that? What... are you... doing?"

She spoke Japanese into a micro headset while she removed several handcuffs and binding chains. Then she hurriedly secured them to my hands and feet. She was telling someone directions to Keith's house. She removed a small kit from the back pack. After opening it up, she removed a tiny bottle of liquid and a hypodermic needle.

"What are you...going to do, Reina?" I asked, with trepidation in my voice.

While shaking her head sadly, she answered, "I...I am going to kill you."

# Chapter 25

"Wait, wait, wait!" I pleaded while trying to suppress the panic that was attempting to overwhelm me. "What do you mean you're going to kill me?"

"You call me kunoichi as a nickname; but in truth, that is what I am. I _am_ a kunoichi. I am also yakuza."

"The Japanese criminal organization?" I asked in shock with my heart pounding and my palms sweating.

"Yes."

"But even if that's true, what are you doing here? Why are you...? I don't understand."

"I am here on a mission of _katakiuchi_."

"A mission of revenge?" My thoughts were now in turmoil. "Please, Reina, free me. Let me go."

"No. You are too dangerous. You would jeopardize our mission."

"What mission?"

"I was eight years old," she replied with a distant look now coming into her eyes. "My father was an _Oyabun—_ the head or godfather of the Kobayashi clan of the yakuza. One day a business negotiation with an overseas associate went bad. This resulted in a murder contract being put out on him. Unknowingly, my father was being stalked by an assassin. My father's bodyguards were all paid off. We were in our house that night celebrating my birthday when the killer and his men broke in. He shot and killed my father in front of us. He took my mother and forced her into prostitution. Because my older sister was a beautiful virgin, he sold her in the sex slave trade market. Only my older brother and I escaped because we were rescued by my father's most loyal and trusted friend—a shinobi master."

"Who did this to you and your family?"

"A man named Gunther Muller—Shannon's father. Every time I look at her I see the face of the man who murdered my father and destroyed my family."

I was stunned and speechless.

At length and with empathy in my voice, I said, "I'm sorry for what happened to you and your family. I truly am. If you free me though, I will help you rescue your mother and sister. I give you my word."

She looked at me with grief in her eyes and replied, "My mother died from the drugs they forced into her to try to break her will. My sister killed herself shortly after being sold. Can you rescue the dead and bring them back to life?" She wiped away a tear.

I stared at her while sympathizing with the anguish and pain on her face and unable to say anything. Finally, I quietly replied, "I _am_ sorry Reina, but Shannon, AJ, and Stacy had nothing to do with what Gunther did. I'm sure you must understand that. Killing them won't bring back your family."

"They are not going to die."

"Then... what?"

"You must know, Lance-san, that the yakuza is a business organization and operation. Stacy will be forced into prostitution like my mother was. Shannon and Amber-Joy will be sold on the sex slave market like my sister was. A middle eastern contact has already offered an initial price of three million dollars for Shannon based solely on her pictures."

"Three million dollars?"

"She is an American, blue-eyed blonde virgin of extraordinary beauty. She will be the showcase of his harem, that is, if she is still a virgin."

I said nothing.

"Amber-Joy will also be sold. But of course, she will bring a lower price."

_This can't be happening,_ I thought. "You'll never pull this off. Keith has security in his house. He has an alarm system," I challenged with more certainty than I actually felt.

"We have been preparing for this mission for many years. Nothing can stop my brother. He has trained in ninjutsu since childhood. Keith's house security will be as nothing to him and his men. If they oppose him, he will kill them all. The Muller's will be taken. Keith's house borders the ocean. That makes it even easier to get them out of the country."

"LET ME GO!" I screamed while straining and struggling against the cuffs and chains.

"I am sorry, Lance-san. I feel bad that you have been caught in the middle of all of this. But I have my mission to fulfill."

She picked up the bottle of fluid and stared at it.

"What... is... it?" I stammered.

"Potassium cyanide."

She attempted to stick the hypodermic needle in through the cork of the bottle in order to draw out the liquid, but her hands were shaking so badly she almost pricked herself. Again, she tried, but it useless. She was too nervous. With a cry of despair she exclaimed, "I cannot do this. I cannot kill the boy I am in love with."

"Eh?" I exclaimed in shock. "You're in love with me?"

She shook her head and touched the side of my face with her hand. "From the moment I saw you on the beach at Keith's house last Saturday night. All week long it has been a struggle for me to stay focused on the mission and not lose my concentration thinking about you. When you said you were leaving, I was both sad and relieved. Sad that I knew I would never see you again, yet relieved you would not be here to get caught in the middle of all of this. But here you are my ronin," she remarked as she bent over to kiss me.

I turned my head aside. I had to free myself. The longer I was trapped here, the less chance I had to save the girls before they were taken.

"You have two choices. Free me or kill me. Do one or the other," I commanded.

"I can do neither," she replied.

"If you free me now, there's time for me to save them. I give you my word that I will not hurt you, or your brother, or anyone else. I will not turn you over to the police. You'll be free to walk away. But if you don't—and I'm giving you fair warning—I have been taught skills you know nothing about. I've sworn to protect those girls. I will search for them. I will find them eventually, dead or alive. And if they've been violated, or if any harm has come to them at all, I will exact vengeance."

She stared at me. Then AJ's smartphone rang.

Reina reached into my back pocket and pulled it out. "It is Shannon," she remarked with contempt in her voice. "She calls for you." She took the butt of one of her swords and smashed the phone with it.

I felt helpless, angry, and completely frustrated. "FREE ME OR KILL ME!" I screamed.

A sad expression came into her eyes and again, she touched the side of my face.

I closed my eyes and relaxed. "Reina, listen to me," I said while calming down. "Take a look around this room. What do you see? Do you see all the damage? That damage is from a fight I had earlier today. It was a fight against a man who was trying to rape Shannon. Do you know who sent that man to rape her? Her father. Her own father. She's a victim of Gunther, just like you were. Your vendetta is not against her, or Amber-Joy, or Stacy. It's against Gunther."

"Our plan has always included killing him, too."

"Who's plan?"

"Ours."

"Who is ours?"

"The yakuza"

"Reina, look at me, look into my eyes. I refuse to believe that you are a cold-blooded killer and neither are you yakuza, either. I know about the yakuza. It's a male only organization. They don't allow woman members. You might have been associated with them all of your life, but I think you're only a pawn being used by them. I know that for a long time you've carried anger and bitterness in your heart over what happened to your family. I now know why you treat Shannon the way you do. But if I had to guess, I'd say you have been told all your life what you've had to do; that you _had_ to get revenge and that you _had_ to train to be a kunoichi. You've had to do exactly as your shinobi master and your brother told you to do all these years. I'm also guessing that you've never been happy or felt fulfilled with that kind of life. Am I right?"

She said nothing, but there was a look of acknowledgment in her eyes.

"Listen to me, Reina. You've been ordered to kill me because you told them about me. They know about my abilities and like you just said, they consider me to be a threat to the success of the operation. Yet you can't kill me because you say you're in love with me. What's going to happen to you if and when they find out you did not follow through on your assignment?"

"I will be considered a failure in their eyes. I will have dishonored them."

"And the punishment for that is death isn't it?"

She slowly shook her head in agreement.

"Here's a chance for you to leave that life behind. If you release me, I will help you find refuge in this country. I will protect you from revenge. I will hunt down Gunther and bring him to justice. Your mission of _katakiuchi_ will be fulfilled. You can start a new life here. You are an exceedingly beautiful and intelligent young woman. I know that in this country you could find happiness and freedom from your old way of life. I'm honestly offering to help you. What do you say?"

"I can start a new life here with you?"

"Yes."

"We can be lovers?"

"No, no! We can't be lovers. I'm already in love with Shannon. She's in love with me."

"But I am in love with _you_. I want you to love me, Lance-san. You think I am very beautiful and intelligent. I know that in time you could love me, if you were given the opportunity."

Her expression altered and I could see she was deep in thought.

"You follow the bushido code, the code of honor," she continued. "If you give me your word of honor that you will agree to do three things, I will set you free. First, you must protect me and keep my true identity a secret. Do not turn me over to the police. Carry out all that you just said you would do for me. Second, you must not kill nor permanently injure my brother. Third, I want you to love me as I love you. In order for that to happen, you will need to remove Shannon from your heart and thoughts. I cannot stop her from loving you, but I can stop you from loving her. I forbid you to love her. Never return her love for you, or ever again, express your love for her. In time, your feelings for her will weaken and your heart will then be free to love me."

If she had stuck me with the needle of poison it would have had the same effect as I was feeling now.

"Why would you ask this of me?" I asked in disbelief. "What kind of person are you? I can't do that. I'm in love with her. She's the girl of my dreams."

"Your love for her will fade away in time. Our love for each other will be given a chance to grow."

"No. It's not going to happen. I love her too much to agree to those terms."

"Your feelings for her, or her life and the lives of her sister and mother!" she angrily challenged. "It is your choice. You decide. But time is running out."

"Please. I'm begging you, Reina. Don't ask me to make that choice."

Having made up her mind however, she obstinately refused to change it. She sat there while staring at me and not saying a word.

Not since Scott's disappearance had I felt this much sorrow and heartache, possibly even more. I stared up at the ceiling overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness and self-pity. Finally, reluctantly, and with great regret, I said, "I... I give you my word of honor."

As she freed me, I could feel a growing hatred in my heart toward her.

"Take these," she said while handing me the two wakizashi swords.

"Your tanto, too," I added. "The short blade of this dagger might be of use. Your brother; what's his name and how old is he?"

"His name is Daitaro and he is 19 years old. Lance-san, my brother is shinobi. He will not fight you honorably. He will try to kill you if you oppose him."

"I know."

"His blades—do not let them cut you."

"Poisoned?"

"Yes, with Deathstalker scorpion venom."

"How many men does he have with him?"

"I do not know. I was not allowed to know everything about this mission, only my part in it. Lance-san, my life is now in your hands. I have dishonored my family and I have betrayed the yakuza by my actions. If you fail, Daitaro will seek me out to claim vengeance."

"Yet, you forbid me to kill him _._ "

"He is... my brother."

"Gunther's men will be here shortly. Leave now while there's still time," I replied while flying out of the room.

"Good luck _,_ my ronin," she remarked in Japanese.

While speeding towards the Mitterhauser estate in Shannon's car, I was on the lookout for any police. This time I wanted them to find me. But the old saying that, "there's never a cop around when you need one," was now proving itself to be true. Inspector Carter had promised an increased police presence. _Where could they be?_ I wondered. I would have called them immediately after Reina freed me had she not disabled the phone lines in the house.

I looked at my watch as I approached Keith's house. It was nearing midnight. I parked a block away, equipped the weapons Reina had given me, and then silently made my way toward the gate. It was open. I snuck up to the guard shack and peered inside, but I saw no one. I checked the phone and the other electronic equipment. There was no power. Reina said they planned this mission a long time ago. Their team probably included a skilled electronic technician. I was sure the alarm system had already been deactivated. My first goal now was to search for a lookout.

A quick and silent reconnoiter around the estate toward the front of the house revealed a man standing behind one of the pillars near the front door. When I saw him my spirits soared. If he was there, it probably meant everyone else was still around as well. But why was he there? This was a simple snatch and run operation that was taking way too long in my opinion. Something must be delaying them. _Good for me, bad for them_ , I thought. I unsheathed the tanto and held it in my hands while feeling its weight and its balance. It was superbly crafted. I stopped to think and consider my actions.

_They will kill you if you try to stop them_ , I thought. _There's no time to try and find a phone to call the police. But maybe I can just knock this guy out and tie him up._ I took a deep breath and relaxed. I searched the ground for a small pebble and I found one. After sneaking up to close range, I flicked the stone toward the pillar adjacent to the one he was standing against. Then I quickly moved toward him. Instead of looking in the direction of the pinging noise however, he quickly turned to face me! As he began to speak into a headset and draw a gun out of its holster, I threw the tanto with full force at his chest—a distance of about 20 feet. He cried out as he died and I chided myself for my carelessness.

After rushing over to him, I quickly removed his micro radio headset. Someone who had been monitoring his conversation was now excitedly asking in Japanese what was wrong. I put on the headset and began to cough and hack while grunting back in Japanese that I had just seen a half-naked female jogger pass by. He laughed, and then told me not to get so choked up and excited. I responded back while still coughing and hacking, that he had three pretty American girls for eye candy and to not begrudge me my thrill on this boring guard duty. He answered back that they didn't have them yet, but that Akako had almost finished cutting through the bolts on the vault doors. Soon they would have their prizes. My spirits soared even higher.

I retrieved the blade out of the dead man's body along with the silenced CZ-75 pistol which he had dropped. After dragging his body off the portico, I hid it in the bushes. I then carefully opened the front door while peering inside. _Where could the location of the vault be and what was I going to do next?_ I asked myself. _Where were Keith and everyone else; perhaps in the vault too?_ I was going to have to do more reconnaissance while searching for the smell and sound of an acetylene torch.

All at once, I noticed a body on the floor across the room. I crept over to it. There was enough light coming in through the cathedral ceiling windows for a visual examination. It was a man. In fact, it was the same security guard who I had seen the first time I had sneaked into Keith's house a week ago. He was dead with a shuriken throwing star imbedded in his forehead. I searched him and found a Glock 9 mm handgun in his shoulder holster. This man had been killed without even drawing his weapon. I retrieved his gun and an extra clip of ammo. I made my way up the stairs toward Keith's bedroom. As I neared it, I could hear faint moaning. From the light coming in through Keith's bedroom windows, I detected the outline of two bodies on the floor. I crept over to where they lay. One of them was Keith. He was alive, but softly groaning.

"Keith," I whispered, "It's me, Lance."

"La... Lance?" he asked with his voice trembling.

"What happened here? Where are the Muller's?"

"He... he made me tell him... where they were. He... threatened to cut off Mike's head if I didn't tell him. So I did, Lance, I told... him, and he... he... cut off Mike's head anyways." He began to quietly sob. "Mike... was like a brother to me."

I looked over at the other body, presumably of Mike, and it had indeed been decapitated.

"I'm so sorry, Keith. Can you stand up? Can you follow me?"

"I... can't... move. He slashed me... and... I can't move... and I'm in pain... in agony," he gasped.

I examined him and found a viscous gash on his right leg.

"Do you have a smartphone?"

"It's... in my back pocket, but... it doesn't work."

I pulled it out and I tried making a call, but the signal was not registering. _They must be using a jamming device to block it_ , I thought. I put the phone in my pocket.

"Am I... am I going to die... like Mike?" he gasped.

"I'm not sure, Keith. I'm going to lightly wrap your leg. You've been poisoned. You have to hang in there. I took his hand and squeezed it. If I can get to a working phone or get out of range of the jammer, I'll call an ambulance for you. You have to tell me where the girls are."

"They're... in the vault in the... basement," he replied as I wrapped a strip of cloth around his leg. He groaned loudly.

"Easy does it, buddy. Hang in there as best you can."

"I don't... want to die...," he moaned as he slipped into a semi-conscious state.

Now I was furious! I wanted to severely punish Daitaro, but I remembered my vow to Reina. I quietly made my way downstairs. While carefully exploring the house, I caught the faint odor of burning metal. The door leading to the basement was shut, so I did my best to noiselessly open it. Just as I did, there was a loud cheer that startled me so badly I almost fired off both guns! I dropped to a prone position and started crawling on my stomach while following the sounds of what appeared to be a celebration. There was some light down here, probably supplied by a portable unit. While peering around the corner, I saw four men congratulating a fifth who was wearing welding goggles and holding an acetylene torch. They were all whooping and high fiving each other. Apparently Akako had done it. He had cut through the hinges and bolts and all that was left was to pry the door off. I decided to join in the party, too. After standing up, making myself visible, and then brandishing my guns, I remarked in Japanese, "You guys are outstanding professionals. Remind me to look you all up if I ever need welding or repair work done. Now stand back away from the vault door before I blow all your brains out."

# Chapter 26

They stood there motionless in astonishment while staring at me; a lone teenage boy holding two 9 mm pistols pointed at them. One of the men then slowly moved his hand up to his front shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He took the still flaming acetylene torch out of Akako's hand, lit the cigarette with it, and then handed it back to him. After inhaling deeply, he glanced around at the other men and said something to them under his breath.

I sensed a slight, almost imperceptible movement out the corner of my left eye. Instinctively, I dropped to the floor as a shuriken with a dull thumping sound, buried itself in the wall where my head used to be! At the same time the men drew their weapons and opened up on me in a hail of gunfire.

I aimed both my guns at the tanks of acetylene and oxygen while concentrating my fire at the hose connections—effectively blasting them apart. The tanks wobbled and then fell over while releasing the flammable gas with a loud hissing sound. I quickly rolled along the floor back to the basement stairs and then ducked into the stairway just as the volatile mixture reached the lit cigarette. There was a thunderous explosion and fireball along with the screams of those who had been caught in it! I hurried up the stairs to find a spot of safety amidst the shouting and chaos emanating from below. I knew the fire wouldn't last long, though. The basement sprinkler system would eventually take care of it.

I switched on the micro radio headset to hear the sounds of confusion. Men were shouting one thing and then another. Then I heard a commanding voice barking out orders. "Osamu and Torao come up to the house and help put the fire out. Carry the wounded and dead back to the beach. Kenta, turn the power in the house back on. Hook the winch up to the vault door and pull it off. I will take care of the intruder. NOW MOVE!"

_That has to be Daitaro_ , I thought. I crouched behind a cabinet in the foyer while plotting out my next course of action and counting my ammunition. I was going to have to intercept the yakuza gang members on the beach. The girls however, were going to be hostages. Rescuing them was going to require precise timing. A minute later I had come up with a feasible plan. I stood up and then I cautiously moved toward one of the rear doors just as the lights in the house came back on. I was just beneath the upstairs balcony when suddenly out of nowhere, a black, shadowy figure came pouncing down upon me from above. I had a tenth of a second to analyze the situation and react. I held the two guns up together crossed in front of me like a shield as Daitaro's ninjato swung down with enough force to cut me in half!

There was a sharp metallic clang and a bright spark as the blade of his sword clashed against the barrels of my guns. The force of the impact sent a stinging, numbing pain from my hands down to my elbows. I cried out while dropping both guns. He too, gasped in pain as the ninjato went careening out of his hands to land somewhere in the room. I repeatedly opened and closed my fists—trying to restore feeling back into them. Then I heard a loud thumping sound from the basement. They had pulled the vault door off.

I glanced over at Daitaro in time to see him launching something at me. I weaved, bobbed, and ducked behind furniture as shurikens, many travelling at over 65 miles per hour, were being thrown in my direction! Upon finding an end table, I held it up in front of me like a shield as the last of his star-shaped projectiles penetrated almost all the way through. During this time he had been searching the room for his sword. After finally finding it, he confidently strode over to me. He was dressed in a black body suit. His face, except for his eyes, was covered in a mask. Night vision goggles rested atop his head. As he approached me, I removed Reina's two wakizashi swords from their sheaths. His eyes grew large in recognition.

"You... killed her," he remarked in English with a thick Japanese accent.

"No," I replied in Japanese. "She gave them to me of her own free will."

His eyes grew even larger in an expression of anger. "She has acted foolishly. When she talked about you, I recognized the look in her eyes. I should have known she would be too weak and emotional to complete her mission. She has betrayed me and she has also dishonored herself. For that she will die along with you."

"She will not die because I have sworn to protect her," I defiantly replied.

At this statement he cried out in fury and came swinging his ninjato at me with full force. I had studied both double edge sword and broadsword under Sifu Lu Tang, but I had never encountered an artist of the blade like I was now facing in Daitaro. His razor-honed sword was an extension of himself and he was a master of it. It was taking all my skill and training just to parry and deflect his blows. I wasn't sure how long I could maintain my defense before he broke through it to carve me up!

"Your _katakiuchi_ is with Gunther Muller _._ Let the girls go," I reasoned while trying to catch my breath.

At this statement he halted his attack.

"I too, am after him. Join with me, and the two of us can take him down together," I suggested while still breathing heavily.

He studied me for a moment, lowered his sword, and then cautiously approached me.

"What you say is sensible; a partnership against a mutual enemy. I agree," he replied while extending his right hand.

As he drew near, I kicked him hard in the chest; driving him backwards. The electrodes that fired from the taser hidden under his right wrist went shooting out harmlessly into the air rather than into my body as he had intended. I noticed when kicking him that his body suit was composed of some kind of armored material. I grabbed the taser wires but he touched something on his wrist and they fell free just as I yanked on then. All at once, a call came over the micro headset.

"Oyabun?"

"What is it, Kenta?" replied Daitaro.

"We have removed the women from the vault. The vault also contains much gold and American currency!"

"How much?"

"Millions."

"Take it."

"We don't have room for it."

"The females; kill the oldest and the youngest. This will give you the room."

"NOOOOO!" I screamed while bolting towards the outside door.

As soon as I moved, Daitaro quickly lunged at me with his ninjato. I had just enough time to parry his attack before the stroke fell. The blow caught the top of the wakizashi in my left hand and broke it. Then I heard the sound of gunshots through the headphones!

If Daitaro had stabbed me in the heart, I would have felt no less pain than I felt at that very moment. I was instantly overcome with grief. _Stacy, AJ, no, no, no!_ I thought with tears forming in my eyes. Then a murderous rage overtook me and I charged at him while viciously swinging my sword. He backpedaled while desperately trying to deflect my blows. I managed to force him back against a wall and knock his blade aside while driving my fingers hard into his throat.

He collapsed onto the floor while clutching his throat and gasping for breath. I raised the blade in my right hand with the intention of driving it through his skull. I had never in my life wanted to kill anyone as passionately as I now wanted to kill this young man. But I remembered my vow to Reina. Instead, while sobbing and trembling, I plunged the blade passed his head and into the floor. He looked into my eyes while shifting under me, drove his left knee hard into my solar plexus, and toppled me over.

I lay on the floor while clutching my stomach in pain with the wind knocked out of me. He quickly retrieved his ninjato and then defiantly stood over my prone body. After removing his mask, he spit on me with an expression of contempt in his eyes. "You are a spineless coward," he rasped. "Someone who does not have the stomach to kill should never engage in a fight to the death."

As he was about to raise the blade to decapitate me, I had an instant flashback of the happier times that I had with Scott. Unexpectedly, he stopped, glanced to his right, and then quickly flipped backwards as I heard a rapid, clacking noise. It was the sound of a silenced machine gun being fired! Bullets sprayed the area. Daitaro twisted and spun around while darting out of the room as a man wearing a suit and ski mask gave pursuit.

I slowly got up and cautiously followed in the direction they had gone. A quick reconnoiter revealed several bodies of dead yakuza members along with money and gold bars scattered on the basement floor. I came across the body of the masked machine-gunner. He had been stabbed but he was still alive. I picked up his machine gun. There was no sign of Daitaro or the girls. I ran outside to the backyard while finding two more dead yakuza members along with two dead male Caucasians. All had been shot multiple times. A search of their bodies rewarded me with another silenced CZ 75 and two extra ammo clips. I made my way toward the front of the house and I came around the corner in time to see Stacy, Shannon, and AJ being forced into a car. They had been hooded and handcuffed. Several masked men were standing there with them and upon seeing me; they fired their silenced machine guns in my direction. I squatted down and returned their fire while emptying the MP5SD's magazine and hitting two of them.

One of the unwounded gunmen shouted to the others. "We have what we came for! Let's get out of here!" The men piled into the car and into a second car which drove up with screeching tires. Then they peeled out of the driveway while taking the girls and their wounded comrades with them. _The girls!_ I thought. I had never felt so relieved in my entire life than when I saw Stacy, Shannon, and AJ still alive. _But how did Gunther's men know they were here? Reina must have been caught and told them. No, I didn't believe that. The only other person who knew they were staying here was Inspector Carter. I had a suspicious feeling about him from the moment we first met._

All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed by extreme panic. I had no idea where those men were going. There was only one slim chance to find out. I ran back to the yard and then over to where the wounded but still alive machine-gunner lay. I reached down and gently shook him. He moaned and opened his eyes.

"You're seriously hurt. Do you want to live?" I asked.

He stared at me.

"Listen to me. Your buddies have deserted you. They've left you for dead. I can get you the medical attention you need. DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?" I shouted.

He slowly nodded his head yes.

"I'll help you if you help me. Where are they taking the girls?"

He looked at me and smiled sinisterly.

"Is it really worth your life for you not to tell me? Think about it. You're dying. You don't have much time left."

He closed his eyes and once more, I shook him. "TELL ME!" I again shouted.

"A deal," he gasped. "We have a deal?"

"Yes."

"Take me to a hospital."

"Tell me where the girls are going, first."

"Okay... kid. There's a new... business development... on the outskirts of town, new construction. They're... taking them... there."

"Why? And where is it located?"

He smiled through gritted teeth and continued, "His daughters are going to be part of that new construction—permanently."

"Where is it?"

He was drifting in and out of consciousness and it took much patience on my part to piece together the address. Then without warning, his eyes rolled back into his head. He groaned and clutched my arm hard. His back arched, he gasped loudly, and then his body relaxed. I felt for a pulse but there was none. I reached into his jacket and removed his silenced Beretta M9 along with an extra ammo clip. After sticking the guns into the back of my pants and the extra clips into my pockets, I ran over to Shannon's car. I programmed the address into her GPS unit and I drove off. I pulled out Keith's smartphone and dialed 911. While ignoring the phone's low battery alarm, I told the 911operator that there had been a shootout and massacre at the Mitterhauser estate including information about Keith and him being poisoned. I also told them to send police, a SWAT team if possible; to the location I was now in route to.

I arrived 20 minutes later and I decided to park near a tree line in an area that was out of sight. This was a new business complex surrounded by undeveloped land. There were four buildings. Three looked like they were mostly complete but they had no lights on. The fourth was still under construction. Only the top floor of it was illuminated. Every other street light in the parking lot was lit. The edge of the tree line was about a football field away from the fourth building. That's where I now sat under the cover of darkness. Because of the illumination provided by the lights in the parking lot, there was no way to approach the building without being seen.

I desperately wanted the police to show up, but none arrived. The base of the building was dark including the main entranceway. If anyone was concealed there, I certainly couldn't tell. I now wished I would have taken Reina's night vision goggles, I sat down to rest and deliberate on what to do next. Then once again, fortune was by my side. There was someone standing in the darkened main entranceway. In their absent-mindedness they had lit a cigarette. I could see the microscopic point of light from my location. I placed the butt of the Beretta on a large boulder in front of me, took careful aim, and then immediately had a vivid flashback of an incident that had taken place between Scott and I.

It was memorable because it had involved an argument between us. We were at his backyard shooting range in North Bay. I was engaged in target practice that day and I was in an ornery mood. I was blasting everything in sight when Scott came over and began reprimanding me for wasting ammunition.

"Why are you getting on my case?" I asked, perturbed. "We have thousands of rounds of bullets here to shoot with."

"Lance, when I was on a mission we were given limited ammo. There's only so much equipment you can take and only so much ammunition you can carry. Do you know what that means?"

"No," I replied while thinking I could have cared less.

"It means that every shot has to count; _every_ shot. I was instructed never to take a shot unless it was at least 90 to 100 percent accurate. From now on you are not going to waste any more ammo and you are not going to take any more shots unless you can guarantee me within reason that you are going to hit what you are aiming at."

"You're joking, right?"

"I'm dead serious."

"Then you can take your gun back because you've just removed all the fun out of this exercise. I'm not an operative, I'm not on any mission, and I could care less if I hit the target or not." And with that, I handed him the gun and started to walk back to the house.

He grabbed my arm hard and I swung around to face him. I wondered if I could take him in a fight.

He relaxed his grip. "Lance, you're a great kid, a special kid," he remarked. "I know you keep hearing me say that over and over to you, but there is a reason I do. It's because it's true. I want you to be the best and do your best, whatever it is your doing. It doesn't matter if it's sweeping floors or scoping a target from a mile away. Just do your best. I know we have thousands of rounds here and I know you like shooting. But having a mindset of wanting accuracy or perfection; there's nothing wrong with that. If you're going to shoot, be as accurate as you can be. Hit what you're aiming at. Perfect the skill. Do it for you and for me. Am I really asking too much when I simply want you to do your best?"

"No," I softly conceded.

He handed the gun back to me. "I want you to set up targets from 50 to 300 meters out and then I want you to review to me all the information a sniper has to take into account when firing."

"Okay, but 300 meters?"

"I didn't say you'd be using the pistol to try and make a shot like that."

"Okay. You had me worried there for a second," I replied while walking away to set up the target cans.

"But I didn't say you wouldn't either...,"

I focused on the lit cigarette while relaxing my body and calmly exhaling. In between heartbeats, I gently squeezed the trigger. The gun recoiled with a clacking sound and I watched as a moment later, the pinpoint sized light fell to the ground. While crouching and running in a zigzag motion, I approached the building's entranceway. I examined the dead man's body and saw that the bullet had entered his mouth and then exited out from behind his left ear. From his right ear I removed the earpiece of the micro headset he was wearing. I put it on just as a routine radio check-in was being made.

"Davis?"

"Check."

"Jones?"

"It's quiet. Nothing going on here."

"Millard?"

There was no reply.

"Millard?"

I looked down at the dead man.

"Millard, check in."

"This is Millard," I answered in an eerie, unearthly tone of voice. "I'm dead and I'm speaking to you from beyond the grave. I was an idiot and lit a cigarette. The kid zeroed in on it and then shot me in the mouth from over 100 yards away. Move to the center of the parking lot, lay down your guns, and stand with your hands behind your head if you don't want to share in my fate. And if by some improbable chance you do manage to survive, make sure I get a decent funeral. My body is lying at the main entrance."

In reply, I received a diatribe of cursing and profanity.

I lay on the ground with my senses honed and my weapons at ready. Twenty seconds later I saw a gun peeking around the corner of the entranceway. I promptly put a bullet through the hand that was holding it. There was a scream of pain mixed with cursing. Someone came charging in from the other direction while emptying his machine gun at me. Well, actually, three feet above me, that is. The glass doors of the main entranceway exploded into shattered fragments. As soon as his magazine was empty, I shot him in the head. I rolled out into the open parking lot while shooting the man with the wounded hand and killing him as well. I heard a crunching sound behind me as a third assailant, after having entered through the entrance from the other side, stepped on the broken remnants of the glass doors. I emptied my guns in a patterned spread toward the direction of the noise. He gasped as his body tumbled down the steps and then rolled out half-way to where I was lying.

I quickly stood up and then I ran back to the cover of the entranceway. It was time to reload and keep moving.

# Chapter 27

As I entered the building, a wave of fatigue washed over me. While deeply sighing and finding a place to sit down and rest, I glanced down at my watch. It read 2:00 AM. _Time to re-call the cavalry_ , I thought. I took Keith's smartphone out of my pocket. It was off and would not turn on. I sighed again, got up, and then cautiously opened the stairwell door. I peered inside and then I quietly made my way up to the top floor.

Carefully opening the door to this floor also revealed no apparent threat. There didn't seem to be anyone around. I quietly walked down a hall to a second entrance which had light coming in through its window. This door provided access to a large, well-lit, unfinished room. While again approaching cautiously, I slowly and quietly opened this second door and then carefully glanced all around. No one was in sight, so I hurried over to the corner of a wall and peeked around it. There was yet another door that led to what I surmised to be a final room. If anyone was in this building, they were in there. I rechecked my guns. I decided to try to quickly run over to that entrance. As I stepped around the corner of the wall, I suddenly came face to face with a man!

The individual now standing 10 feet away from me and aiming a QSZ-92 9 mm pistol directly at my chest was attired in the dress uniform of The People's Liberation Army Special Operations Forces. He held the American equivalent rank of Colonel and his name tag read _Chang_. I also noticed he was wearing a Master Level Unarmed Combat Instructor's Badge as well as several meritorious decorations. I studied his face. I estimated him to be in his early 50's. My guns were at my side. He had gotten the drop on me so easily it was shameful. I glanced around the room and then up at the ceiling. He had been concealed up there, positioned between the joists. I shook my head in amazement. I hadn't even fathomed that someone would hide up there.

"Go home, boy," he commanded in English with a thick Chinese accent. "Leave, now."

I slowly laid my guns on the floor. Then I put my right fist into the palm of my left hand and I extended it toward him at waist level while also bowing. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and then slowly returned my bow, all the while keeping the gun trained on me.

"Sir," I replied in Mandarin Chinese, "I cannot leave. I have sworn to protect the girls who are being held captive in the room you are guarding."

Again, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and then replied in the same language, "I have no desire to kill you."

"And I have no desire to die _._ Neither do those girls _._ I see that you are an instructor in wushu. Would you honor me in combat with an empty-handed fight? Would you accept a challenge from me?"

He studied me for a moment and then remarked, "If I do, it will be of a fight to the death."

"So be it," I replied with resignation in my voice. "It will be... a fight to the death."

"Are they worth your life?"

"They are as family to me."

He nodded in acknowledgment and then he holstered his gun. Next, he stripped down to his waist and laid his uniform and gun belt against the back wall. His body was as defined in musculature as Sifu Lu-Tang's. I sensed that his martial art skill was going to be as good or better, too. In the truest sense, this would be the most challenging fight of my life. He began to stretch and warm up, and I did the same. It was a hot, humid night, and we were both shortly covered in sweat. Then we engaged each other.

For the next 10 minutes our battle raged. It was punch or kick, block, counter-punch or counter-kick, block—with the occasional blow slipping through on both sides. His hits were like hammer strikes, and welts and bruises soon plastered my body. As a result of my attacks his body too, was covered in much the same way. I tried to get a lock on his limbs but he was too quick, agile, and intuitive. He continually evaded my grasp. Of course, he was trying to do the same to me with identical results. One of his grabbing strikes sideswiped me and he ended up ripping my tee shirt off.

I began to succumb to frustration and fatigue. I launched a furious attack but he countered it, and then threw me back hard onto the floor. My fingertips came to rest against the barrels of my two guns. _Shoot him,_ I immediately thought! _No_ , said my conscience. He could have easily shot me from the beginning, but he chose not to. He wasn't as cold-blooded or callous as Gunther's other men. This was an honorable fight and I was going to keep it that way, win or lose. I pushed the guns away and then I stood up. I stared at him. He was breathing hard. Sweat was dripping off both of us. I surveyed our surroundings and I noticed something on the far side of the room. Then I glanced down at his dress boots and came up with a plan.

I attacked him at an angle that forced him to retreat into an area where the tiled floor was covered in a soft, thin layer of brick dust. He began to slip and he soon realized that his sure footing was in jeopardy. However, it was too late. I feigned an attack and while countering it, he lost his balance for a split second which provided the opportunity I needed. I quickly grabbed his right arm in a lock and with all my strength, twisted it. There was a popping sound as the bone snapped and broke. He cried out in pain and then slowly dropped to one knee.

I had done it! I had defeated him. I couldn't believe it. I had beaten this martial arts master. I stood over him, now feeling invincible. _I really am Superman,_ I thought. I would spare his life. I wouldn't kill him. I turned to retrieve both his gun and mine and as I did, his left fist shot up with blazing speed—connecting with the right side of my chest. The blow felt like a cannonball fired at point blank range! It was the single hardest punch that I had ever received and it felt as though my ribs had been cracked! Sickening pain overwhelmed my mind and body as I dropped to my knees and everything went black.

***

The loud noise of a helicopter landing close by awakened me to a throbbing, debilitating pain in my right side and a sharp ache in my wrists. I slowly opened my eyes as an overpowering feeling of nausea caused me to vomit. Blood oozed out of my mouth and ran down my chin—dripping onto the floor. I gasped while surveying my surroundings. I was handcuffed with the links having been looped around the pipe of an incomplete sprinkler system installed overhead. However, even though the pipe was unfinished, a protruding cutoff valve effectively prevented me from sliding the chain off of the end of it. The man I had just fought was standing directly across from me with his right arm hung in a sling. Another powerfully built man was mixing what appeared to be cement in a large trough. Next to him was Reina's tanto. _Chang must have taken it from me while I was unconscious,_ I thought. It was resting on a concrete block and the tip of the blade was slowly being heated by an acetylene torch. It glowed orange.

While continuing to survey my surroundings, I saw Stacy, AJ, and Shannon standing on my left. They were still hooded and their arms and legs were bound to floor support posts. I straightened up my stance in order to take the weight off of my wrists. The steel cuffs had cut into them, adding to my suffering. Even the slightest movement of my body caused a wave of pain and nausea to wash over me. Colonel Chang walked up to me and after taking out a cloth, wiped the blood off my chin. While speaking in Mandarin Chinese and gazing at the tattoo on my left arm, he remarked, "You fought honorably and courageously for your family. Your teacher would be proud of you. But you are young and cocky. In a battle, just because a single skirmish has been won does not mean the enemy is completely defeated. Remember this if you live to fight again." He bowed, and then turned about to face a man who had just entered from another door on the far side of the room.

One look at this man's face and I immediately recognized him to be Gunther Muller. He had short, blonde hair, deep, penetrating blue eyes, and handsome, masculine features. He was dressed in a white jacket with matching white pants. There was no doubt he was Shannon's father and I even observed traces of his face in AJ. Gunther walked over to Shannon, removed her hood, and then greeted her with, "Hello, Ursula."

I could see by Shannon's eyes that she had been crying. She wore the same expression as she had the Wednesday afternoon when Kyle Sloan brought her into her mother's room—a look of utter despair. She glanced in my direction and for a brief moment I saw a glimmer of hope light up her face, but it quickly vanished as she grasped my situation.

"Hello, Ingrid," said Gunther as he also removed AJ's hood. She too, had shed tears. Finally, he walked over to Stacy and removed her hood. Like her daughters, she had been crying as well. Gunther stared at her while smirking arrogantly but said nothing.

Colonel Chang greeted him. And then while pointing to me, he said, "Hanging from the chain around his neck is an old style, Russian, I.C.B.M. launch key."

Gunther approached me, and then after examining my key in his hand, he yanked it hard. The chain painfully cut into the back of my neck before finally snapping. "Why do you have this in your possession and what do you need it for?" he curiously asked while continuing to examine it.

"It's—" I started to reply.

"Give it back to him!" AJ suddenly shouted—startling both Gunther and myself!

Gunther stared at her with his right eyebrow cocked. Then turning to Chang, he said, "Take this key and give it to my pilot for safekeeping. I'll be joining you both shortly."

Chang spoke to him for a few more moments but the words were inaudible. He then turned and left through the same door Gunther had entered.

"Colonel Chang says your martial arts skill is extraordinary," remarked Gunther. "He has also informed me that he has gravely injured you. Several of your ribs are broken and they are cutting into your organs. You are slowly bleeding to death internally."

I responded by again, throwing up more blood onto the floor. Gunther looked at his watch and then at me while slowly shaking his head with an expression of pity on his face.

"I don't usually get involved in mundane affairs like this," he continued while glancing over at the girls. "But since it's a family matter, it required my personal attention. I suppose you are wondering what's going on?"

I said nothing.

"Are you a student of history?"

I nodded in the affirmative.

"In the Bible, in the Old Testament, after King Nebuchadnezzar II of the Babylonian Empire had conquered Jerusalem, he set a man named Zedekiah in place as its king. As long as Zedekiah paid tribute to the Babylonians, everything went smoothly for him. But Zedekiah didn't want to be subject to the them. He wanted autonomy, and so he rebelled. As a result, Nebuchadnezzar marched his army down and besieged the city of Jerusalem. He captured Zedekiah who was trying to flee. He brought him to Babylon, and there he made an example of him. He took Zedekiah's sons and made Zedekiah watch as they were killed in front of him. Then he immediately gouged out Zedekiah's eyes and put him in prison for the rest of his life.

After my daughters are dead, their bodies will be put in those two spaces you see in the floor over there. Then cement will be poured over them. The floor of this building is going to be a new office for me. In a manner, I'll always have my daughters with me under my feet so to speak. I'll keep Stacy at my house solely for amusement. However, I'm not going to soil my hands gouging out her eyes," he remarked while glancing at her and then walking over to the tanto. He put on a glove and picked it up while closely examining the hot, glowing tip. "This should do the trick, don't you think?"

"I _think_ when she said you were a demon, she was being kind," I replied.

He laughed and then asked, "Am I right in assuming she never told you why I treat her the way I do? Why I treat her like the whore that she is?"

"Yes, she never told me. However, I did some research and investigation on my own and would like to offer an explanation."

"By all means," he replied while setting Reina's blade back down.

"It all started when a handsome high school senior, an exchange student from Germany named Gunther Ajax Muller, came to spend his final year at a California high school. There he met a fellow senior; a gorgeous, blue-eyed blonde named Stacy Lou Johnson. Gunther wanted her sexually, and with his good looks and charm, he was able to seduce her one night. As a result of this passionate encounter, Stacy found herself pregnant. Given Stacy's social and family background, the stigma of her having to graduate being six months pregnant was too much of an embarrassment for her well-to-do family. Because she rejected their advice to abort the child, her family disowned her.

Gunther, now feeling guilty about what he had done, promised he would marry her after graduation. He married Stacy, not out of genuine love, but solely out of a sense of obligation. Unfortunately, because he was not fluent in American English and because he had only a high school education, he had great difficulty in finding a job that paid enough to support his wife and new born daughter. Out of desperation, he turned to the business of organized crime where the pay-off is equal to the risk. The risks got bigger as he moved up the ladder in the criminal organization in which he was a part. I speculate that over time, Stacy was not entirely happy about her marriage or about her husband's profession, but she had her hands full trying to raise three young girls.

Gunther's assignments began to take him away from home more and more, and Stacy saw him less and less. Her emotional tank became empty and it went dry for a long time simply because she had no one to fill it. She began to look elsewhere for affection and fulfillment. I'm thinking she found it in someone close; someone who she could see but not raise suspicion about being around; Gunther's personal bodyguard perhaps? He was possibly a well-built, good-looking man. She was a very beautiful woman and her advances would be hard to ignore. However, one day Gunther found out about their little clandestine tryst. But I'm not sure how."

"In a drunken state, he bragged about it to the wrong people," Gunther interjected.

"When you found out about it you went ballistic," I continued. "Jealousy and paranoia consumed you. You beat her and had the bodyguard executed. Hence, your current bodyguard, Colonel Chang; a man who's appearance would present no adulterous appeal to your new wife. This affair also led to your becoming apprehensive about your two youngest children. Now you weren't even sure if you had fathered Shannon and Amber-Joy, even though there's no mistaking the family resemblance. But paranoia and jealousy will do that. You accused Stacy of being a whore, even though I believe she begged you to forgive her—to give her a second chance. However, you were unwilling. From the beginning you never genuinely loved her, and now your ego had been bruised.

Life with you became miserable and unbearable as you could not get over this one incident. You were and still are riding a power 'high' as you continued to physically abuse Stacy, Shannon, and Amber-Joy over the smallest incidents. For Stacy, divorce and a restraining order became the only means of survival—further wounding your pride. Of course you weren't going to let her go. If she couldn't be your wife, she would now become the plaything that satisfied your men. Knowing you would and could kill her and her daughters at any given moment has kept them in bondage all these years. How Stacy has been able to maintain her sanity and emotional stability throughout this continual ordeal is completely beyond me.

The only positive thing to come out of all of this is that Shannon has learned from her mother's mistakes, hardship, and instruction, and is not going to follow in her footsteps when it comes to her own relationship with members of the opposite sex."

"A dazzling display of deductive reasoning," remarked Gunther while appearing visibly impressed. "Your research and observational skills are nothing short of brilliant; that is, apart from your shameful attempt at trying to psychoanalyze me as a deranged villain."

Our conversation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Inspector Carter into the room. He appeared nervous as he walked up to Gunther and handed him a manila envelope.

"You're late as usual," remarked Gunther with contempt.

"Listen," replied Carter. "There are four more of your men lying dead outside on the ground!"

"I saw their bodies as the helicopter circled the building," replied Gunther nonchalantly.

"Isn't a police officer supposed to be a person of honor and integrity?" I challenged. "Didn't you take an oath of office and swear to uphold it?"

"You've got a big mouth and a big nose," he replied while glaring at me. Then he walked over to me and back-handed me across my face. Next, he turned and exited the room.

"Kevlov," remarked Gunther while turning to face the man who had been stirring the concrete mixture. "Follow him. Use his own gun and make it look like a suicide. Park his car in a secluded spot. When you are finished, come back here and dispose of the four bodies lying outside. Then cement the bodies of my two daughters into the floor space over there."

Kevlov nodded yes and then followed after Carter.

Now turning his attention back to me Gunther remarked, "I have no further use of the police and since he is a liability..."

He reached inside the envelope and removed its contents. They included my passport and student visa, along with some other paperwork. He carefully examined each one and then finally said, "Now we come to the matter of you."

I was suddenly seized by a nauseous feeling mingled with dread and once again, I vomited blood up onto the floor.

"My question now is this: Who are you?"

I did not reply.

"According to your high school application, your name is Lance Joseph Rock. You are a Canadian citizen residing in Ontario. Santa Barbara Area Senior High School made you take the S.A.T. as a prerequisite to being accepted into their Student Exchange Program. You finished that test in record time with a perfect score. Record time with a perfect score," he repeated while slowly shaking his head in amazement. "You are fluent in over a dozen languages and you are well-versed in at least a dozen more. I won't even attempt to speculate as to what your I.Q. level is. It says here that you were homeschooled by your mother. There is no father listed. My organization primarily employs proven, distinguished, ex-military personnel, yet you went through them like they were nothing more than boot-camp recruits."

I noticed that the whole time he was talking; Shannon was staring at me with a look of astonishment on her face.

"I ask you again," continued Gunther while walking over to retrieve the tanto. "Who are you?"

I shook my head, sighed, and weakly replied, "Just a guy who found himself in the wrong place at the right time."

He strode over to Shannon, grabbed her by the back of her head and held the glowing tip of the knife an inch away from her face. He screamed, "IF YOU DO NOT ANSWER MY QUESTION, I'LL KEEP HER ALIVE WITH A FACE SO SCARRED SHE'LL NEVER WANT TO LOOK IN A MIRROR AGAIN!"

# Chapter 28

"NO!" I cried. "Don't do that. Please, sir, I'm begging you. Don't hurt her. _Please_."

"Ah, I see you have feelings for her."Strong feelings I sense. She _is_ an exceedingly beautiful young woman. Now talk to me."

"You already know my name," I began. "I never had a father. When I was six years old a man saved me from drowning. He became like a father to me. He was a retired United States government operative—their top one. I don't know what agency he worked for or specific details about any of his missions. He was the one who homeschooled me. For the last 12 years he has trained me in all his skills in addition to teaching me his specialized curriculum."

Gunther stared at me dumbfounded. He let the knife slip out of his hand to drop onto the floor.

"That is how you have obtained your skills and knowledge?"

"Yes."

"What was his name?"

"Scott James."

"That's... astounding. If what you're saying is true, then you are an extraordinary individual, a completely unique individual."

He stood there deliberating for a moment before continuing, "To kill you would be a complete waste; a... tragedy."

He drew near to me and then put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm going to spare your life on one condition. I want you to join me. I could most definitely use someone like you in my organization. Your unique skills and gifts would be greatly appreciated and put to good use. I know what you're going to say; that you're still in high school and that you intended to go to college to obtain a career. Why does anyone go to college? They go to obtain a degree, to find a job, to try to scratch out a living. In my organization, you'll have more money than you could possibly spend in your life. Partner with me and I'll also spare Ursula's life and give her to you. I'll let you have her whenever, wherever, and for as often as you like—anyway you desire. Let your imagination contemplate that!"

"I would never want her that way."

"Fine, but I could provide you with any other kind of girl you want. Do you crave power and control? You can have that too, eventually. What else is there in life beside money, power, and women?"

"I'll join you on one condition. That you free all the girls and then swear to me that you'll never, ever, bother them again."

"No, Lance!" exclaimed Stacy with alarm. "Don't join him! Don't do it!"

"Unfortunately, she is a non-negotiable item," he replied while glancing over at his ex-wife in annoyance. "Is there anything else I can persuade you with?"

I shook my head no.

"Then, goodbye young Mr. Rock," he remarked while pulling a Walther P5 pistol out of his coat pocket and then aiming it at my forehead.

He stood there but he did not pull the trigger. "I don't want to kill you. Join me," he hesitatingly pleaded.

My life was seconds away from ending. Shannon and AJ's would soon follow. I had never felt so completely helpless in all my life, even when I was trapped on that tiny iceberg 12 years ago. I thought of Scott and wished he'd come walking into the room right now to rescue me. I glanced up at the tattoo on my right arm.

Now switching to German I quickly said, "Before you kill me, I want you to know that you've made a serious error. You impress me as an exact man, but you've failed miserably in one specific task."

"What task?" he answered back in the same language.

"You never asked me why I've done what I've done, or why I am even here."

"You're a remarkably trained Canadian High School exchange student who inadvertently found himself in the wrong home and who then decided to use his skills and training to protect the girl he loves along with her sister and mother."

"You are wrong," I calmly said. "I am here to execute you. I am a paid assassin on a mission of revenge for Daitaro Kobayashi of the Kobayashi clan of the yakuza. You were foolish and negligent to not finish or follow-up on the hit you put on his family 10 years ago. He survived and he has contracted me to take you out or delay you while he obtains his revenge. He is also a trained assassin. I believe your bodyguard is still here. Who is at home protecting your wife and children?"

That quickly, Gunther's cool and controlled expression melted into one of panic. He pulled out his smartphone and began dialing it as he swiftly exited through the door which I had now surmised led to the roof.

I stared at the sprinkler pipe and I jumped up while catching hold of it with my hands. I swung my feet up and I wrapped them around it to hold me in place. The pipe mounts strained under my weight and I could feel them loosening from the ceiling. Indescribable pain exploded through my right side and a tremendous nauseous feeling overwhelmed my stomach. I could feel myself beginning to pass out and so I shook my head to try to maintain consciousness. I slipped the handcuff chain over the shut-off valve and then I dropped to the floor while almost breaking a wrist in the process. I began to vomit violently and uncontrollably. A second puddle of blood gathered on the floor.

"Lance, run!" commanded Stacy. "Get away from here and get to the hospital. Run away now while you have the chance!"

"No," I weakly replied while slowly shaking my head. "I gave Shannon my word that I would always protect her. I'm not going to abandon her, or you and AJ."

I tried to regain my feet, but the room started spinning around. While taking deep breaths, I finally managed to stand up. Then I raised my hands back up toward the pipe just as Gunther came striding back into the room.

"Unfortunately, there's been a change of plans," he remarked. "You're all going to die and your bodies will be disposed of later." He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Stacy's head.

"WAIT!" I shouted.

"What?" he replied, annoyed.

"Out of respect for your abilities and world class reputation as an assassin, I honored you with a heads-up warning. As a fellow assassin, I ask you to reciprocate that honor by allowing me to die first in the manner befitting an assassin—execution style.

He walked over to me and as he did, I saw his eyes drop to the floor and glance at the new puddle of blood. A strange look came over his face as he raised the gun to the left side of my temple. Then he noticed the handcuff chain dangling free from below the sprinkler pipe, but it was too late. As he pulled the trigger, I knocked the gun away with my left hand while driving the index and middle finger of my right hand hard into his eyes. The bullet sped by my head as he shrieked in pain and shock.

While backpedaling, whimpering, and clutching his eyes with his left hand, he began to shoot blindly in my direction. I had dropped to a prone position and while crawling on my knees, I began inching my way toward him. His gun held eight bullets and he had soon fired all but two. Unfortunately for me, he regained just enough vision in his left eye to spot me as I lunged up at him. He shot me through my left shoulder—spinning me in mid air and then knocking me back down onto the floor to land on top of Reina's knife. All three of the girls began screaming hysterically!

I gripped the tanto in my hands and I turned my head to look up at him. Instead of finishing me off however, he swung the gun up and aimed it at Stacy. I sprung up from the floor and I hurled myself at him again while driving Reina's knife straight into his heart just as he pulled the trigger! The gun fired and the bullet tore into the wall behind her—narrowly missing her head by half an inch! He stared at me in shock and disbelief while clutching the protruding handle of the blade with his left hand. Then he slowly sank to his knees and toppled over dead.

The girls were still wildly screaming my name as I attempted to make my way toward the door that led to the roof. My body was going into a state of shock and I feared it would shut down before I could reach the pilot of Gunther's helicopter and my key. The pain in my left shoulder was doing its best to equal the pain in my right side. After opening the door, I stumbled down a hallway toward stairs that led to another door while leaving a trail of blood. I became alarmed as I heard the distinct whine of a helicopter's engine starting. I lurched up the stairs and then I threw open the door to the roof. The chopper was about 50 feet away and I could see the main rotor blade slowly spinning while trying to reach enough R.P.M.'s for liftoff. Glancing to my left, I could also see the blue and red roof lights of several police cars now speeding into the parking lot with their sirens wailing.

I stumbled and fell down on my hands and knees. Blood was running down both my chest and back—soaking my jeans. I also felt cold even though the outside temperature was in the mid-eighties. I forced myself up to a standing position and pressed onward. I had to get my key back. As I neared the chopper, I saw Colonel Chang's outline in the interior lights. He was staring at me. Then he raised his pistol and pointed it at me but he did not shoot.

Now staggering toward the cockpit door, I finally reached it and I grabbed the handle. If I could take out the pilot this bird was going nowhere and I would have a chance to get the key. I yanked the door opened and the pilot turned and looked at me. It was a woman! The shock of seeing her caused a delay in my reactions and gave her enough time to spin her left leg out and kick me hard in the chest. I fell back onto the roof. The helicopter lifted off, but I was too weak to even watch it climb away. I simply stared up at the stars in the night sky. Their tiny pinpoints of light began to dim and slowly disappear as everything faded to black.

***

My mind began to drift and I strangely found myself back in the family room of the Muller's house. I was once again holding Shannon in my arms. It was Thursday afternoon all over again! She looked up into my eyes and said, "Kiss me, Lance."

"I can't," I replied. "You're Keith's girlfriend. I shouldn't even be holding you like this." And with the greatest force of my will, I released her.

But she held me even tighter and said, "I want to be _your_ girlfriend. Don't you want to kiss me?"

"More than anything else in the entire world."

"Then, just _do_ it"

I reached my right hand up and held the back of her head. Her hair was thick and silky soft. She closed her eyes as I drew her mouth toward mine. Our lips met in a loving, tender touch. For the seven seconds that our kiss lasted, an inexpressible feeling of fulfillment and ecstasy surged through my mind and body both reviving and strengthening me.

I heard a strange ringing noise and then I awoke. Now slowly opening my eyes, I gazed up at Shannon staring down at me and appearing like an angel. There was a radiant smile on her gorgeous face and an expression of relief in her beautiful blue eyes.

"Welcome back," she joyfully said.

"Welcome back? Where have I been?"

"You've been unconscious for four days."

"Wow..."

A nurse quickly made her way into the room and Shannon exited it while saying, "I'm going to call my mom. I'll be right back."

I surveyed my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed with what seemed like countless tubes and wires hooked up to me. There was a strong fragrance emanating from the dozen or so flower arrangements that were strategically placed around the room. There was also the lingering smell of Shannon's perfume.

"How do you feel?" the nurse asked.

"Honestly, I feel like King Kong has been using my body as a soccer ball for a couple of days."

"Well, you're a fortunate guy not only to have finally awakened, but to also have a girlfriend like that. She's a sweet, beautiful young woman."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought she was because she kept referring to you as her boyfriend and because of the way she's been acting."

"How has she been acting?"

The nurse looked embarrassed.

"It's okay," I said. "You can tell me."

But she seemed reluctant to talk.

"Go ahead, please," I continued while trying to reassure her.

"Your room is in front of the nursing station so we can see right into it," she began. "Whenever we have a comatose patient, we leave the room intercom on. That way if the person wakes up and talks, we're able to hear it and then respond to them."

"Okay."

"We really weren't trying to eavesdrop on her."

"Go on."

"Every day after school she would come in here to see you. The first thing she would do is kiss you on the left cheek. Then she would adjust your pillow and try to make you feel as comfortable as possible. While sitting and doing her homework, she would talk to you—telling you how her day went and personal things like that. Then before she left..." All of a sudden, the nurse became emotional. "Before she left... she would say that she could never pay you back or stop thanking you for what you did for her, her mother, and her sister; but that she hoped her love for you would be thanks enough. Lastly, she would kiss you goodbye on the right cheek."

"Well, she's... not... my girlfriend," I said while becoming emotional myself. _She can never be my girlfriend_ , I thought. _I gave Reina my word of honor and I would not go back on it. I was going to have to learn to be content with the fact that I had saved Shannon's life and she would now be nothing more than just a friend._

"Oh, there's one more thing," continued the nurse. "Today when she came in, instead of kissing you on the cheek, she kissed you on your—" but she stopped as the doctor suddenly entered the room.

It was Doctor Chan! He picked up the chart at the foot of my bed and while examining it, remarked, "Well, if it isn't my favorite patient—Mister Death Wish."

"Hello, Dr. Chan," I said while trying to get up. My arms were secured to my body however, and I couldn't use them for the leverage I needed to be able to lift myself.

He peered over his glasses at me and asked, "And how are we feeling today?"

"Like I've been shot and I've had my ribs broken," I remarked wryly. "Why are my arms secured like this?"

"To keep you stable and secure so that your body can heal. You truly are a fortunate individual. When the ambulance brought you in here, your body was covered with so many contusions and lacerations that we thought some baseball bat wielding drunks had mistaken you for a piñata. Do you know that the bullet passed through one of the few areas in your body where it would do the least amount of damage? Do you know what the odds are of that happening? You must have a guardian angel watching over you. Do you also know you lost almost half your blood through internal and external bleeding? You were lucky to still be alive when they brought you in here. Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I'm not a masochist, Dr. Chang."

He sighed. "You can be released on Friday if everything continues to progress satisfactorily. That's two days from today. Try to stay out of trouble until then. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes."

"Give him something for the pain, if he needs it," he said to the nurse. Then he turned and left.

A short time later Stacy, AJ, and Shannon arrived. Stacy came up to me and gently kissed me on the forehead.

"I was... so worried about you," she remarked.

"I'm alright, Mrs. Muller."

"On the drive up here my mom said that if you were 20 years older she would marry you in a heartbeat," remarked AJ while smiling mischievously.

_"_ AJ!" exclaimed Stacy in shock with her face now beginning to turn pink.

"If I was 20 years older, I'd marry your mom tonight!" I replied while smiling and winking at Shannon.

"You would?" replied AJ, as I watched Stacy's face now begin to turn a bright red. "Do you think my mom is hot?"

"I think... she's a great mother," I remarked while staring at Stacy in admiration.

"Did you reall _y_ score perfect on the S.A.T.?" AJ asked.

I slowly nodded yes _._

"Do you really speak that many languages?" she continued.

"I do."

"I can't believe you killed all those guys."

"AJ!" again exclaimed Stacy angrily.

I stared down at the sheets. "They would have... murdered me... and you," I quietly remarked. "I didn't want to kill them, but they gave me no choice. I never thought I could or would have to kill anyone in my life. I..."

"It's alright," said Stacy while gently and reassuringly squeezing my hand and giving AJ a scolding look. AJ shrugged apologetically while looking sheepish.

"What happened to AJ's smartphone?" asked Shannon. "I found it smashed on the floor of my bedroom? Also, what did you say to my father that made him look so worried and made him run out of the room?"

_Those are perceptive questions, Shannon_ , I thought while wondering how I was going to answer them.

# Chapter 29

I had given Reina my word of honor to protect her identity. I couldn't honestly answer Shannon's questions without revealing it. This meant that I was going to have to lie about my knowledge of the events that had transpired from Saturday evening into Sunday morning. I didn't like having to lie, but as Scott had taught me; my word or promise was a bond that I simply would not break. Feigning selective amnesia would be the best way to accomplish this.

"I... don't remember," I replied. "I'm sorry. Things are a little foggy."

"That's understandable considering all you've been through," remarked Stacy. "No more questions, girls. He needs to rest."

All of a sudden, a genuine wave of fatigue combined with a throbbing, painful, sensation in my left shoulder and right side swept over me. I groaned. Stacy bent over me and with deep concern in her voice, asked, "What's wrong, Lance?"

"I'm... in pain. Is there... any medication available?"

"I'll be back in a minute," she answered as she hurried out of the room.

Shannon put her hand on my forehead and began to tenderly stroke back my hair. AJ grasped my right hand and softly squeezed it. One minute later a nurse came into the room and injected something into the IV tube. I started to feel better, but I was still tired.

"We'd better go and let him rest," said Stacy.

"But, mom," remarked AJ, "You forgot to ask him."

Stacy nodded her head in acknowledgement and asked, "Lance, where are you going to stay when you are released on Friday?"

"I don't know," I sighed. "I guess... I'll check into a local hotel."

"I was just kidding with you. Of course you can stay with us."

"I don't think that's a good idea," I replied while anticipating the complications that were sure to arise from continually being in Shannon's presence.

The girls glanced at each other with puzzled expressions and Stacy said, "Don't be silly, Lance. You'll stay with us until you're fully healed. We'll give you all the TLC you need and deserve." Too tired to put up an argument, I nodded my head in agreement.

"Let's go," said Stacy as she and AJ got up to leave. AJ bent over and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, little sis," I said while smiling. She smiled back and also waved goodbye.

"I'll be down in a minute," said Shannon while watching her mother and sister walk out of the room. "I have something for you," she continued while reaching into her handbag. She pulled out a small package and handed it to me. Suddenly remembering however, that I couldn't move my hands, she said, "I'll just leave it over here on the table. I'll see you tomorrow."

She bent over to kiss me on the lips, but I quickly turned my head aside.

A surprised expression came over her face. She stared at me for a second and said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Keith and I are no longer dating. We both agreed to break up."

"How's Keith doing?"

"He's... okay. I mean... I think he wants to talk to you. Maybe he'll come by to see you sometime. Well, I have to get going. Goodbye, my love." Again she bent over to kiss me, but once more I turned my head aside. Now she looked perplexed.

"Okay. I get it," she remarked. "You want it to be official before we kiss. Go ahead then, ask me out."

I said nothing.

"For a guy who's suffering and in pain, you sure haven't lost your sense of humor," she continued while smiling and shaking her head. "But I really _do_ have to go. So, if this is the way you want it to be, could you please just ask?"

"We're only friends, Shannon."

"Now... you're starting to... upset me, Lance," she replied with her voice breaking.

My stomach was in knots. She tried to kiss me for a third time, but once again I turned my head aside and said, "No, Shannon. No kissing. We're only just friends—nothing more than that."

Her eyes became red and moist. "But... I'm in love with you... and you're in love with me, right?"

I quietly stared at her while desperately trying to control my feelings.

Tears began to form in her eyes and she tried to wipe them away. While softly crying she said, "I'm _in love_ with you, Lance, and you're _in love_ with me. You _told_ me you were in love with me."

"That was in another life and in another time," I replied. "Things have changed. Our relationship is different now."

"I don't _believe_ you!" she exclaimed. "I _know_ you love me! Why are you now acting like this?"

I was on the verge of being emotionally overcome. Now feeling like a wretch, I said, "I think it'd be best if you were to go now."

She stood there staring at me while crying softly, continuing to wipe away her tears, and shaking her head no in disbelief.

"Just leave, Shannon, _now_!"

While continuing to shake her head and wipe her tears away, she slowly and reluctantly walked out the door. As I watched her depart, I wished that there were someone to wipe away my tears as they slowly rolled down my face to dampen the pillow.

The night was marked by a fitful sleep. The next morning a nurse came in the room and said, "We're going to disconnect you. You'll be free to get up, go to the bathroom, and to also eat."

She unhooked the tubes and wires and I confess that my emancipation felt fantastic. The helplessness associated with not being able to use my arms or legs created an uneasy feeling. I slowly sat up, then got out of the bed and stood up—and almost fell over! After five days of lying in a fixed position, I had become weaker than I realized. I slowly and carefully walked around the room while staying close to the wall to steady myself. I spotted the gift box Shannon had left last night. It was sitting on the table. Remembering her tearful departure made me depressed. I was hesitant to open it, but as usual I gave in to my curiosity.

I sat in the nearest chair and carefully removed the wrapping. It was a small gift box with a note inside. There was an 18 karat white gold chain and an 18 karat white gold key that was a miniature replica of the kind used to unlock old style padlocks. The key had a tiny diamond set in the center of it. I unfolded the note and it read: _To my Diamond in the Rough, (or I should say my brave Paladin and rescuer!). I'm sorry that my father stole your key. I know what it meant to you and I know how you loved the man who gave it to you. This is the key to my heart and I'm giving it to you because of my love for you and your love for me. You once said that I was the girl of your dreams. Well, I found the boy of my dreams when you came into my life! You're everything I could have ever hoped for in a guy. I love you SO MUCH!!! I'm excited to see what the future holds for us as our love for each other grows_. _Forever "thanks" for all you've done for my family and me._

I sat there a long time clutching the chain in my right hand while feeling the tears slide down my cheeks to drop onto my lap below.

Lunchtime soon approached, but I had no appetite. This concerned the nurse and it started to concern me too when I realized I'd better eat or they might stick an IV tube back in my arm. After lunch, boredom began to torment me. I was never one to watch much television and I decided to check out the different floral bouquets that were strategically placed in the room. The first one I examined was from Jill Cruse. Her note said: _Oh Canada, our hot and handsome man. True patriot love, in all our girls you command._ I laughed out loud so hard that I was instantly in pain. I continued to read her note and it said: _In all seriousness, Lance, I wish you a speedy recovery and hope to see you soon. Is there really still no chance?_

_Good old Jill, never one to give up trying,_ I thought.

The next arrangement was from the Mitterhauser's. It was by far the largest and most extravagant. The note was a simple and courteous: _Get well soon_. There were over a half dozen bouquets from people I'd never even heard of. _They must have come from kids in the school who were grateful for their freedom from the football team's tyranny_ , I thought while chuckling to myself. There was one from the Colsons and another from the Cheponis'. I wondered how Mike Colson was doing. The last display I came to wasn't of flowers. It was a cute, Komono class bonsai tree that had an endearing charm about it. The rice paper note attached to it was hand written in an exquisite style of _Kanji_. It was from Reina.

Feelings of anger, bitterness, and self-pity immediately overwhelmed me as I read it. _My ronin, you did it. You were successful in rescuing your friends and avenging my family. You truly are a noble samurai. I am saddened to hear that you were badly injured, but I know you are as strong as you are brave. You will pull through. This little bonsai tree will bring you luck and healing. It brought you into my life. I look forward to seeing you soon. Love, your kunoichi_.

I took the note, crumpled it up in my hand, and then threw it into the wastepaper basket. Then I picked up the tree and was about to dump it into the basket as well when my conscience reprimanded me.

Do you really want to be spiteful toward her?

_She's wrecked my life_ , I replied.

_This girl is simply in love with you_. _Is that her fault?_

_It's not her fault, but I made it clear that I only wanted to be friends_.

_Then_ _instead of despising her_ , _show her what a true friend is_. _Try_ _first,_ _to be a friend to her._

_Alright_ , I conceded. _I'll try to reason with her first, as a friend_. I set the tree down and retrieved the note out of the trashcan, but the feelings of bitterness and self-pity remained.

I lay on my bed musing until Keith came limping into the room.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"You look more messed up than I was."

"I am," I replied while smiling.

"I, ah... I came by to say thanks, man. Thanks for what you did for me."

"No problem. They were able to find an antidote, eh?"

"Yeah, there was this scorpion exhibit going on at the San Diego Zoo. They had all kinds of antidote there."

"How's your leg."

"Ah... it's still messed up... a little. I can get around pretty good but, ah, no sports, no football anyways."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, I guess we'll never know who would have won that fight between us," he remarked while smiling.

"You broke up with Shannon, eh?"

"Yep. She's not my type. I mean she's truly a one in billion, smoking hot looker, you know, but she's... just too uptight and inhibited. She's all yours now, if you want her. But I'll give you a heads up. You won't be able to get any from her—nothing. She has this... conviction," he remarked in a mocking tone while slowly shaking his head in disappointment "What a waste."

"I'm going to have to pass on her too. But... for other reasons."

"You might be able to get another girl at the school. I'll put in a good word for you. I have... influence... you know... with all the girls."

I said nothing.

"Anyways, if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know. I owe you my life."

He limped over and grabbed my hand. I squeezed it, and then he turned and hobbled out of the room.

Now feeling somewhat exhausted, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. I awoke to the sensation of someone touching my face. I grabbed the hand and sat up. It was Reina! She stared at me with a glazed look in her eyes. Then she bent over to kiss me. I wanted to turn my head aside. I wanted to push her face away. But I did nothing, and she gently kissed me on the cheek.

"Reina, you and I, we need to talk."

"My brother, is he alive?"

"If he's dead, he didn't die by my hand. I had a chance to kill him. But I didn't. I kept my promise to you. However, I believe that he escaped and that he's still alive."

"Did... he say anything to you?"

"Yes. He confirmed what you feared. That he's now going to put you to death."

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

"I've told no one about you," I continued. "I've kept my word on both counts. I even fulfilled your mission of _katakiuchi_. The man who killed your family is dead. Look, Reina, please try to understand. I only want to be your friend. I'm in love with Shannon and she is in love with me. Release me from my vow. Please!"

"I am in love with you, too. Why will you not try to fall in love with me? Is it because I do not have blonde hair and blue eyes?" she asked with contempt. "Did you not say you thought I was remarkably beautiful? Did you not enjoy kissing me? Is not my body as good as hers?"

"Physically, I honestly can't see any difference between you two—but you're missing the point. It's not just about looks or about a body. It's about emotions, and connecting. It's about the feelings we have for each other. When I first saw Shannon it was like... like love at first sight. The more I got to know her, the more I fell in love with her; her personality, her kindness, her caring, and her creativity. Don't you understand? And she feels the same way about me. Love has to come naturally. You can't force someone to love you."

"Then spend time getting to know me."

"I _want_ to, but only as a friend. I don't want to be your boyfriend—or lover. I only want to be friends. We could have a great friendship, I truly believe that. Now, I humbly ask you again, release me from my vow."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I do not want you to love her. I want _us_ to be lovers."

My patience had run out. "I only want us to be friends _._ I don't have romantic feelings toward you. Why can't you understand and accept that?"

She walked over to examine the flowers. "Do you like my bonsai tree? I have had it since I was a little girl."

"FINE!" I shouted in anger and frustration. "HOLD ME TO MY WORD! HOLD ME TO IT FOREVER IF YOU WANT! BUT GET THIS THROUGH YOUR THICK, STUBBORN, SKULL! I'LL NEVER ASK YOU OUT AND I'LL NEVER BE YOUR BOYFRIEND! EVER! NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND LEAVE ME ALONE!"

She turned and stared at me with an expression of grief on her face. "Then... Then I am dead. My brother will find me to obtain his vengeance."

"He won't be able to," I replied while taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. "I gave you my word that I would protect you."

A nurse came into the room and after glancing around; she asked if everything was alright.

"Yes," I calmly replied. "We're just having a... discussion." She nodded okay, turned and glanced at Reina, and then left while closing the door behind her.

"Look at yourself," Reina continued. "Your body is battered and broken. You almost died trying to save them. Do you think you will put the same effort into protecting me? I have no family now. I have no one to love me. I am all alone in this world. All I wanted was for you to love me as I love you. All I wanted was for you to give it a try. Goodbye, Lance-san." She turned, walked over to her tree, gently touched it, and then exited the room while wiping away a teardrop.

I sat there frustrated and bewildered. I had given it my best shot. I had pitted my patient reasoning against her stubborn and selfish emotion and I had lost. I was still no better off than before.

The next morning Doctor Chan came into the room to do a final check-over before releasing me. "There will be no heavy lifting or body contact sports for at least 12 weeks. Longer, if you're sensible."

"But, doc, I'll lose all my muscle mass. I'll get out of shape."

"Those are my orders, and you'd be wise to obey them."

Stacy arrived to take me home. As we were checking out, Doctor Chan motioned me to come over to where he was standing.

"Listen, son," he quietly remarked. "You are one phenomenally tough hombre' but you are not Superman. Reel in that reckless tendency of yours or the next doctor that examines you won't be me. It'll be the coroner at the city morgue. Comprendez?"

"Si."

On our way home Stacy said, "Lance, Mr. Cheponis threatened the school with a lawsuit if they didn't let you come back."

"Mr. Cheponis?"

"He's a successful attorney. He did it as a favor to me. The school backed down from his threat. You can go back once you're physically able to. But it's entirely up to you."

"What about Coach Pernell?"

"He's been suspended pending a hearing. I believe their going to fire him. Principal Taylor has also been put on administrative leave. There's going to be an investigation and hearing by the school district into the numerous complaints about bullying at the school that have been ignored through the years."

"I'll have to give it some thought."

"There's something else. The police want to question you. They want to hear your side of the events both at the Mitterhauser's residence and the construction site. I can get you a lawyer to be present if you want?"

I nodded okay.

We continued to drive and Stacy glanced over at me while remarking, "I want you to know, Lance, that you have been a Godsend to our family. Shannon couldn't have found a nicer young man for a boyfriend. I also want you to know that you have my complete blessing and approval on your relationship with her. You _do_ understand this, right?"

"How's she doing?"

"She's... every other night since Sunday morning she wakes up crying. I try to comfort her, but it isn't easy. I'm sure time will heal the trauma she's been through. By the way, last night she woke up crying out... your name."

I leaned my head against the window and said nothing. Finally, we pulled up to the house. I felt like I had been away forever. I slowly walked up the front steps and through the front door. I headed toward the family room. My luggage and guitar were still right where I had left them. Now sensing a presence behind me, I turned around and came face to face with Shannon.

"I have something to... say to you," she said while trying to maintain control of her emotions. "I talked to my mother and... and she said that you've been through so much, and to be patient with you, and to give you some time. I want you to know, Lance Joseph Rock that I'm in love with you. I will give you time because I know that in your heart, you're in love with me too. I don't know why you're acting the way you are, but I'll wait for you to come back to me. I'll wait for all eternity if I have to." She then turned and walked away.

"Someday, hopefully, I will come back to you, Shannon Ursula Muller," I quietly replied under my breath while watching her go upstairs. "Because you're right; you are still the girl of my dreams and I am in love with you. Deeply..."

Stacy now entered the room and said, "Follow me."

We went upstairs and she took a key out of her pocket and opened the door to Teri's old room. I followed her inside. She walked over to the window and opened the blinds. As light flooded the room, I glanced around. There were several pictures on the dresser and I picked up an eight by ten portrait of Teri. While gazing at it I remarked, "She's absolutely beautiful. There's no mistaking her for being Shannon and AJ's older sister. She looks just like you. Tell me, Mrs. Muller, what was Teri's personality like? Was she the black sheep of the family?"

She looked at me quizzically and replied. "She was her father's daughter—Daddy's little girl. I guess in ways and at times she often acted like a black sheep, more so the older she got."

"Did Shannon and Teri get along?"

"When they were younger. As they grew older they drifted apart after realizing that they had less and less in common."

I sat down on the bed and invited Stacy to sit beside me.

"Teri was over in Europe when you got word she was dead?" It was a painful question to ask, but I had to know the truth.

"She was studying over in France when one of Gunther's men... informed me."

"You lost contact with her and yet you never reported her missing?"

"I didn't want him to retaliate by harming Shannon and AJ," she replied, now wiping a tear away from her eye.

"Mrs. Muller... Stacy, your daughter Teri is not dead."

" _What_?"

"She was the pilot of Gunther's helicopter."

If I had just slapped her in the face her reaction would have been no different.

"No, no, _no_ ," she began to sob with her hands covering her face as she gently rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed.

"I am truly sorry," I said while putting my arm tenderly around her.

As she sat there sobbing, I reflected on the past two weeks. Two weeks? It had felt like two years. I still had the whole rest of the school year ahead of me. My body had taken a beating I wasn't sure it would ever completely recover from, I had forfeited my right to express my feelings toward the girl I loved, and I had my most precious possession stolen from me. But I had put an end to a decade long cycle of terror and trauma and had saved the lives of three people as well. And what could be more valuable than that?

