Command: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  “Hello, glad to see you all again. I just started this second and haven’t met with the supervisor. So back off with your demands and wait.”

  “Did you get that?” Nathan said to Amy, and the other girls laughed.

  Amy beamed up at him. “I like her.”

  “I do too,” he said and winked at me. I was not, and had never been a girl who swooned. But Nathan Donleavy’s wink? Yeah. I swooned.

  Nathan

  Ambrose requested I review the video footage he subpoenaed from a financial firm next to the night club. I’d agreed without hesitation, even after working a double shift. Shana needed my help. And my instincts wanted to protect her the only way I could.

  On our way inside, Brittany Holland’s big blonde bobblehead came bopping toward us. She had a group of suits in tow following her out of our Internal Affairs office.

  Ambrose grinned. “Hello again, Ms. Holland.”

  Her thin lips twisted. “I’ll have your badge, asshole.”

  “That’s Officer Ambrose,” he said, holding the door for her to walk out.

  I cocked a brow. “I take it Brit didn’t like being questioned?”

  “None of the group you gave me did,” he said, following me into the evidence room. “Brittany claimed Shana didn’t attend her bachelorette party.”

  I grunted. Figures. She never liked Shana. She’d lie out of spite. “What about Amber?”

  “She told Stetson Shana went to the club with them. Then lawyered up. Hell, Evan Jensen claimed he wasn’t even there.”

  “What about Skelly?”

  “He’s got amnesia too.”

  My jaw clenched. Skelly surprised me. He’d played baseball with Jack and me since we were in Minor League.

  Ambrose signed out the video, so we crossed the hall to the screening room. Once we set up, I hit the remote to play. The bouncer appeared outside the club. He checked some IDs, but most just walked in. I rolled my eyes. Another issue for another day.

  We fast-forwarded and stopped when a Mercedes Sprinter limo pulled up, just like Shana reported. A crowd blocked the view, so we couldn’t make out if they got out or not. Where were they?

  “There,” I said. I spotted a few of the girls I recognized from Brittany’s high school crowd.

  “That’s Pilar Cummings, Sophia Taylor, Tabby Waters . . .” I called off the names of Brittany’s crew while Ambrose took notes.

  Shana appeared, and my heart stopped. She had the wild hair and a tight pink shirt on like I remembered. And lo and behold, it was the same as all the girls. Her head darted from side to side, and I could see she looked sad. Lost. Alone. Damn. I wish she had called me. No matter what, I would’ve come. I’d tried to block out the kiss and move on. But I couldn’t stop thinking how right it felt.

  “There’s the purse,” Ambrose said.

  My stomach took a dive. Shana’s purse was on her thin shoulder. That only confirms Shana may have taken the drugs in.

  Then witless Amber appeared. She lit up what looked like a blunt, but the video wasn’t clear enough. A couple of strippers came out with Brittany, who had her arms around them. She linked Amber’s arm. And Shana followed after them.

  “No Evan or Skylar.” Ambrose’s hand touched the mouse to halt the video.

  “Wait, please,” I said. Shana may have been wrong about Evan and Skelly, although my gut said she’d been right.

  I fast-forwarded and caught sight of Evan’s blond head.

  “That’s Evan,” I said and rewound the video. He gestured behind him, and Skelly’s gaunt frame appeared. The bouncer waved them forward, and they walked inside together.

  “That blows Evan’s story, but Shana’s statement said Evan and Skelly went in first,” Ambrose pointed out.

  I rubbed my chin. “Yeah, but they claimed they weren’t there and this proves they were. Why did they lie?”

  Ambrose shrugged. “Yeah, strange. Evan’s dad’s the mayor. He could be worried it’ll mess up his re-election.”

  I shrugged. Too damn bad.

  “If we didn’t have this video, we’d have left them alone. We now have probable cause to question them again,” Ambrose said.

  I sighed and stood up. “Yeah, with lawyers answering all the questions. Thanks.”

  “Good stuff. I can’t wait to talk to Brittany again. She’s feisty. Too bad she’s getting married. I’m in love.”

  I cringed, and he laughed. “You better hope there’s a cure for that.”

  “Where you headed?” he asked.

  “Baseball practice. We have a game today.”

  “Good luck,” Ambrose said.

  He knew I had a hand in placing Shana at Mamie Johnson’s group home that participated in the baseball program I started. Ambrose didn’t give me a hard time, but Stetson hadn’t been too keen to share anything else on the case with me. They didn’t need to worry. Both were separate, and I would do my job. But placing Shana at the group home was more than just her case. She needed baseball and the girls to help bring that spark back. I had hope. Even for myself that I may find my own.

  Shana flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and cocked her brow when she caught me watching her. “You again?”

  I grinned. “Yep, me again.” She ran her tongue over her full, sultry lips and gave me a wink before turning back to her conversation with the girls without missing a beat. Fuck, she made my blood hot and had me star-struck. Not just by her beauty but by how cool she was in her own skin. Seeing her again was like living a dream. I often wanted to see her wild hair and bright eyes smiling at me. She was sexy without trying, and I never could get enough of watching her. Even now, I wanted another taste of her attention. Hell, I’d take more, but then I already knew I’d never get enough of her. Things were going well with her at Maeve’s. That was what she needed.

  I rarely stayed away from the group home, even before Shana came to town. Sports gave me a lot—discipline and family—and I wanted to give back. And I believed the baseball program was building something good.

  On baseball practice days, I usually met the group at the park. Game days, I went to the home first. Lately, I’d gone to the group home for both days. Mostly to check on Shana, because I’d vouched to place her there and wanted to make sure she worked out. That was one reason. The other, I missed being around her.

  She had the girls caught up in her style too. In the three weeks since she started, the group home had sprung little Shanas with messy grunge-style ponytails and star stickers like the small tattoo she had below her right ear. They wanted her look and were now asking her to do their eyebrows arched like hers.

  “Get your homework done, put in a good game, don’t give me attitude the rest of my shift, and I’ll think about it,” she told them.

  They groaned but crowded her. I’d hoped she wouldn’t let them down, especially Amy, who’d become her shadow.

  When we were putting the equipment in the back of the activity van, I teased her, “You’re manipulating them?”

  She grinned. “Hey, whatever works. I didn’t know what to do when I was their age.”

  “You were too busy trying to be Jackson,” I said.

  Her eyes went cloudy.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  She stared off and sighed. “I am. I’m just not used to talking about Jackson. It’s actually good to hear something about him.”

  “Well, I have many memories. Whenever you want to talk about Jack, I’m here.”

  Her big honey-colored eyes bore into me, and my chest went tight as she tunneled her way further inside. When I’d found her sleeping outside a month ago, I knew she couldn’t bear being home. She never stayed home after Jackson’s death. I couldn’t blame her. Hell, every time I drove anywhere in town, I saw the three of us. Sometimes the two of us. What we all could’ve had. What we lost.

  “Since you didn’t collect on our last bet, let’s up the stakes today,” I told her.

  Her perfectly arched brow rose. “What do you have in mind?�
�

  “The winner goes out and takes part in whatever the other chooses. We’re on the same team, I know, but if we win, we both win.”

  She smiled wickedly. “So anything?”

  I furrowed my brows. “Within reason.”

  “Hmm, so no bet that includes you wearing a G-string at Hooligan’s?” she teased.

  I grimaced. “Hell no.”

  “Then you’re trying to get me to go out on a date. Just ask me. I’ll probably turn you down because I don’t want us to complicate my road to becoming a better person.” Her tone had snark in it.

  She used my words back on me. She was right too. I wasn’t happy with the small moments of time I had with her. I wanted more. But I wouldn’t beg. “Fair enough.”

  Her head went down, and I couldn’t see her face. I touched her arm. “Hey? What’s up?”

  I knew it had been hard being an outsider around town. At least she wasn’t around Amber, according to what Maeve shared with me.

  “Hey!” Lola yelled back. “You’re leaving kids unattended, and you’re using up our playtime.”

  “The park is only a mile from here,” I called back.

  “Let’s go, you can drive.” Shana handed the keys to me and walked briskly toward the van’s open door.

  I took the seat behind the wheel of the van. Shana checked for seatbelts before taking the passenger seat.

  “If you do everything right today, what would be a good reward?” she called back.

  “Pizza,” most of them called out.

  “Win today, and I’ll think about it,” I said.

  They exploded into a bunch of “no fairs,” knowing damn well we all went for take-out after the games no matter what.

  “What about you, Lucy?” Shana called back.

  I held my breath.

  “S-sal-salvatore’s,” she stuttered.

  Someone snickered, and I yelled, “Knock it off.”

  “Lucy’s call and you’re outnumbered,” Shana said, and they all exploded into chants of “Salvatore’s.”

  “Fine,” I said. “But play your best.”

  Shana turned on the radio, and the kids started to sing along with some songs with good bass I’d never heard of. Shana did too, moving her hands around in her seat as she danced. I could see they were in her spell, all falling for her.

  I had for most of my life, so I knew it was easy to do.

  Nathan

  With Salvatore’s as the incentive, they all exited the van with a rush of energy—carrying the equipment without prompting and running over to the ball field. We had a game against the Dorothy Schroeder group home team sponsored by the firefighters. I didn’t know what to expect, but was happy to see my team excited to play. Shana started the warmups, arm stretches, and running sprints. After fifteen minutes, I blew my whistle.

  “Line up for catch, tag, and throw.”

  Some of the girls groaned. But they all took their mitts and balls, then lined up by home plate.

  “I know. But this is one of the best drills to remind you of what you need to remember to do during the game. Shana, would you mind demonstrating?”

  “Sure, Coach,” she said in a cheery tone. She picked up a mitt and did a grand bow that made them all laugh, getting their attention, which was the point. She also looked hot in the team T-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans. Her body had filled out, an excellent side effect of eating at Maeve’s. She barely wore any makeup, and I didn’t see any dark circles. Although, Maeve did tell me she still had trouble sleeping.

  “Cover the base by taking your stance, bent legs, feet apart, your hands and mitt ready for the catch.”

  I went to the pitcher’s mound, and Shana took the stance over the home plate. I threw the ball off-center to make her shuffle, holding the stance to catch the ball. Like on autopilot, she immediately swept her caught ball and mitt to tag the base. She held the position—her head up toward me, waiting for my next instruction.

  “As you see, she kept her arms extended to cover the play,” I pointed out. “Now, Shana, raise your arms with the ball, pivot, or hop sideways, then using your throwing arm, coil the ball back and throw it.”

  Shana followed through my orders like a pro, using her whole body to make the play.

  I grinned at her. “You still got it.”

  “I do,” Shana said, grinning.

  “I’m ready, Coach,” Amy said, mimicking Shana. She stared in her direction for a few heartbeats and chewed on her lip. She wanted Shana to watch and praise her. That was the thing about Amy. She was tough on the outside, but inside she was starved for attention.

  Shana seemed to pick up on that too, probably because she’d been the same growing up. When I thought about it, it made me angry. She hadn’t been the one causing trouble as a kid, yet she’d been treated as if she had been.

  She walked to the side of home plate and told Amy, “Let’s see what you got.”

  Amy beamed. She’d always been dedicated to baseball, but I’d never seen her so motivated. We went through the drill three times. The girls all worked to outdo each other by giving their all in practice. But we still had a game.

  I blew the whistle again and called, “We only have about thirty minutes left. Amy, practice pitching in the bullpen. The rest of you, practice throwing and catching.”

  “Shana, will you come with me?” Amy asked, her voice small. Fuck. She’d never shown any vulnerability around the girls before. Asking for help. Something the abuse she’d suffered had tried to beat out of her.

  “You know I’m coming, and you better bring it,” Shana teased, and they laughed together. They strolled away like two best friends, and my heart warmed. Her care team would be happy about that.

  I decided the girls were in good hands and busy. Since we still had a little time before the game, I went to scout the other team practicing at the baseball diamond on the other side of the field.

  I spotted Grady, Grant Malone’s brother, calling out plays from the sideline to his team with a few other firefighters I recognized from around town. He had a baseball cap covering his usually tousled brown mop of hair. His T-shirt, like mine, fitted more like a muscle shirt. He greeted me with a breezy smile before slapping my hand and bumping my fist. Grady was good company, but like any good coach, I came over to fuck with his head.

  “You sure your team is ready for us? It’s not good for game morale to play against the best team for your first game.”

  He laughed. “You think your ringer, Shana, can save you from embarrassing yourself today? Let me bring you up to speed.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Reese, you’re up.”

  Some freaking Amazonian strolled to the plate and took a swing, knocking the ball out of the park.

  “Lucky hit,” I mumbled. Shit.

  Grady clapped in praise. “Good one, Reese.”

  He turned to me. “She could rival Mike Trout in her batting average. Oh, and what was that you were saying?”

  I shrugged. “One player can’t carry the whole team.”

  He called out two more, “Tiffany, pitch. Reese, do a fly ball and Parker, I want you to field.”

  Tiffany demonstrated a good fastball. Parker caught a fly ball one-handed.

  “They’re good playing against each other. Games are different,” I said, cringing at the uncertainty in my voice.

  Grady patted my shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that if it brings you comfort. Oh, by the way, the winner gets treated at Salvatore’s. I like pepperoni with extra cheese.”

  He laughed at my back, as he and his fellow firefighter friends joined in with more orders, bragging they’d break my budget on extra side dishes tonight to goad me. Sportsmanship in front of the kids, but between the police and the firefighters, the game was on. I’d be damned if I’d let my undefeated team lose and pay a hefty bill at Salvatore’s later.

  When I went back to check the team, Shana was hands-on, instructing Amy how to grip the ball and throw her wicked screwball. To my shock, she
threw faster than I’d ever seen her do before. A half dozen more tries and they’d have a challenge on their hands.

  I pulled Shana aside for a chat. “When did she get this good?”

  “We’ve been practicing during my shifts,” she said with pride.

  “She does that, and we win, I’ll wear that G-string for a home dinner.”

  “I’ll make it rain,” she said and gestured like she threw a bunch of dollar bills in her hand at me.

  I wiggled my ass in front of her. “Go ahead.”

  We laughed, and so did the girls. Shana made me forget myself. “All right, everyone, gather around,” I said, and all nine circled me. “One of the reasons I loved these initiatives was because it taught the girls a lot about teamwork, but also that if they went through life with the right team, they never did life alone. Thank you all for working so hard and dedicating all your free time to baseball. To this team. I’m so proud of how far you’ve all come. I want you all out there to support each other. Do your best.”

  “And win,” Lola said.

  “You know it,” Amy added, and they high-fived each other. “We didn’t work hard to go home losers.”

  “You won’t be losers if you don’t win,” Shana said, correcting her. “A loser is someone who gives up.”

  I grinned at her. You know it, baby. “Wise words. All right, get your gear and let’s go play ball.”

  We took our equipment and grouped over at the other baseball diamond. The aluminum bleachers were mostly full. Fellow officers and firefighters brought their families to the games. A couple of different group homes were allowed to watch with their staff. The rest of the crowd were social workers and healthcare workers, and a few approved parents. Though some not approved show up anyway. One of the social workers, Kylie, brought a sign, “Go Mamie J.” Nice. She was one of the girls’ favorites.

  After Patricia from the opposing team sang the national anthem, we won the coin toss and started in the outfield for the first inning.

  Shana came with me and stood on the sideline. She waved at Grady Malone. “Wow. That man gets hotter every year.”