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

by Aleya Michelle

  For once in my life, I don’t know what to tell him. I mean what more can I do? Should I brace the wild weather again, but where do I start to look for him?

  “I’m calling him again now. We’ll find him, Tom, don’t worry, bud,” I state to him, realizing that I will do my best to find him, and if it means going back out in the rain and wind, I will do it for my brother.

  “Hello.” I hear Tyler’s voice answer his cell. Halleluiah.

  “Tyler, where the hell are you?” I scream into my phone, it’s a cross between an angry scream and a thank God you are okay, but you are in trouble scream. “Did you get my missed calls and messages?” I question him feeling annoyed.

  “I’m safe. Messages have come through sketchy due to the storm. Chelsea and I were at Spinnaker’s café, and now, we are in their basement,” he declares to me, and it makes sense, the cell service wouldn’t be great down there.

  “Thank God, we have all been worried, bro,” I tell him relieved.

  “Sorry Ty, it really is crap reception, but we are good. We have food and blankets,” he states. “Shit, how is Tommy? Is he with you?” he asks now sounding frantic. Finally, he has thought about someone other than himself and Chelsea.

  “Tom is home with me. We are safe for now, but we gotta get into the cellar,” I declare, knowing that will be an effort with the weather. It’s now or never.

  “Okay, well go now. It’s getting worse, Ty, and stay safe, bro,” Tyler tells me sounding concerned for once.

  “Yep, you too,” I say and end the call trying to psych myself up for outside.

  “Thank God, he is okay,” Tom says smiling. I really hate that we aren’t all here together with Mom. Man, I hope she is okay.

  “Tom, we gotta get down to the cellar. If the weather gets worse, it’s possible our house will be demolished,” I proclaim realizing the severity it could be.

  “Okay, I’ll grab the bags. I have flashlights too,” he announces running off to grab everything.

  I scamper off into our hall closet and grab mine and Thomas’s winter coat and gloves. We need layers; we will get soaked out there and can’t risk staying wet down in the cellar where it could be cold.

  Think Tyson, think! What else? Water, we definitely need water.

  I sprint to the fridge and grab four bottles of water, throwing them into a plastic bag. I decide to take Mom’s old radio she uses while she’s cooking in the kitchen. We need to listen to the weather updates and possible shelter locations. I’m also sure it will get boring and morbid down there with not much to do.

  “Do you have your iPad, Tom?” I ask him.

  “Yep, I also threw in a deck of cards,” he tells me, and I’m glad he has been using his brain. I’m sure there are most things down there, in the case of emergency anyway.

  “Put your hood on, bro, and let’s do this,” I state as I put my phone, charger, and the rest of the items into my backpack. I unlock the back door and prepare to face one hell of an angry storm.

  “We are going to have to open the large cellar doors together, Tom—they are too heavy for just one person to lift,” I declare remembering the drill that we have had in the past that Dad taught us in the case of an emergency.

  “Take a few deep breaths, Tom. Ready, set, go,” I tell him as I open the back door.

  The wind is howling like a train as the force of the wind tries to slam the door. Thomas pushes it open further struggling as the wind increases. When we are both out, I shut both doors and lock them, doing my best to keep the house safe.

  I slowly inch closer to the cellar doors with Tom close behind. The wind is pushing us backward. It takes me a few turns to unlatch the metal hinge, the blasts of wind making it difficult.

  “Ready?” I shout over the wind to Tom.

  “Ready!” he yells back.

  We both hold onto the side of one door. Using our combined strength, we pull it hard together. The wind is against us, and we struggle to open it. I look over at Tom, and he nods to try again. We both tug on the door with all of our might and the door flies open.

  “Go inside!” I shout as Thomas climbs in and slowly makes his way down the stairs. I reach in and turn on the light, having been shown where the light was hanging.

  The rain is pelting down, and it’s getting harder to see. I put one foot inside and start to climb the stairs. Shit, the door.

  I climb back up a few steps, and I hear it like a freight train coming before I actually see it. There is the goddamn tornado only yards away. Holy shit!

  I scramble to find the internal rope before giving it a hard pull slamming the door shut. I frantically latch both sides from the inside and place the wood post across it for extra stability.

  Thank fuck we are inside.

  “Jesus Christ, Tom, I could see it heading straight for the shed,” I tell him as the image replays in my mind.

  I carefully climb the rest of the way down the stairs—the last thing I need is an injury. God, I haven’t been in this place in years. There is an old musty smell lingering from being locked up.

  Inside, Thomas is sitting on a single blue couch. He’s stripped off the wet winter coat and is wrapped in a blanket.

  “It’s okay, Tom, we are safe down here,” I say finally glad we are in the safest possible place.

  I search through the cupboards and find some canned food, water bottles, a first aid kit, toilet paper, and blankets. I am grateful that Dad was handy and put a toilet and sink down here, or that would be another drama.

  “More supplies,” I tell him walking toward the couch.

  Why does Thomas still look so scared? He is white as a ghost.

  “We’re okay, Tom. I love you, bro,” I tell him feeling sentimental. I’ve never been a guy afraid of his feelings. I do love both my brothers, even if I want to kill them on a weekly occurrence. But blood is blood.

  “Love you too, Tyson,” he tells me forcing a smile.

  “What’s up?” I question him trying to find out why he looks so miserable.

  He lifts up his hand that has a large cut across the top of it; blood is dripping down his wrist.

  Holy shit, how did I not see that?

  “Shit, Tom, how did you do that?” I ask him taking a closer look. I think it might need stitches; it’s pretty deep.

  “On the cellar door, but it’s not too bad. Can you just bandage it up?” he asks looking pale.

  “Yep, I saw the first-aid kit, come over to the sink first and let me wash it,” I say to him. Who knows if there are bits of wood stuck in it.

  He stands to walk over, looking quite woozy. “I got you, Tom. It’s only a little cut,” I downplay the wound for his benefit holding onto his waist. I run the water; thank God there is plumbing down here. While rinsing the wound, I feel him flinch and moan.

  “Tell me about your favorite football game ever.” I distract him knowing he loves his football.

  “That’s easy, Steelers vs. Cardinals in 2008,” he declares, and I know that is his all-time favorite game. “You know the one Ty, when Larry Fitzgerald scored a brilliant 64-yard touchdown with two minutes and twenty-seven seconds left,” he declares smiling. God, I love my little bro. He has a good heart.

  “Yep, I know the one,” I reply smiling now too. I pat dry the wound soaking up some blood, and then walk him back to the lounge.

  I dig out the first-aid kit from the cupboard. Antiseptic wipes, two large square Band-Aids and a gauze and bandage should be enough.

  “How about you put a movie or something on your iPad while I clean this up?” I suggest to him, since it might sting quite a bit.

  He flicks through the saved movies and then he chooses Grown Ups. It’s such a funny movie. It is perfect for times like now where we need a laugh and change of tone. In ten minutes, the cut is cleaned and bandaged. I give Tom a couple of painkillers to numb the pain even just a little. Hopefully, he can get some sleep tonight.

  I settle in close to him on the couch and pull up the other blanket.
The wind and rain have caused the temperature to drop, and there is a chill in the air. I’m eager to check on Brooklyn again.

  Me:

  Hey baby, you ok? I’m with Tom in our cellar. I’m missing you like crazy.

  No response. Maybe she has no signal, or her battery went dead?

  Me:

  Please message me back Brooke, I’m getting worried.

  Nothing.

  Thomas is now fast asleep and snoring. I’m grateful that he is getting some rest. I can’t help but wonder if our house is still standing. Would it be destroyed along with all of our memories, both good and bad? Our whole damn life is inside that house.

  I turn the radio on low and listen for any change in the weather.

  “Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana residents have been hit hard with scattered tornados. While there is some damage, it is not as much damage as was first forecasted. However, the torrential rain has caused some flooding and damage to houses, cars, and fences. Police and rescue are urging people to stay off the roads for the next few hours until crews are able to remove the debris from the roadways.”

  I take a deep breath. I still haven’t heard from Brooklyn. These last few weeks have been so stressful. God, I hope she is okay.

  My phone beeps finally.

  Brooklyn:

  I’m okay, baby, my cell died. Dad was able to go up and get our chargers and more food. God, I wish we were together right now. You’re all I can think about.

  Are you and Tom still safe?

  Me:

  Yep, we are safe. Tom is sleeping.

  Missing you more.

  Just a few more hours and the radio said it should be safe.

  Love you so much.

  Brooklyn:

  I love you more.

  Counting down the hours.

  Me:

  You couldn’t love me more because I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman in the whole of eternity.

  Brooklyn:

  Okay you win, smooth talker.

  Me:

  I can’t wait to kiss you

  Brooklyn:

  Me too.

  I’m sleepy. I’ll see you in couple of hours xxx

  Me:

  I’m sleepy too, night.

  Sweet dreams, my princess xxx

  Having a life-threatening situation occur is a real eye opener. What if Brooklyn didn’t get to the basement in time? If I lost her, I would not be able to cope.

  Every day, my love for her increases. I never thought I could feel this way at such a young age. The love I feel for her is insane. She is my one great love, and I know it will stay that way. I want to grow old and gray with her. I want to hold her hand every day for the rest of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life making her happy.

  I’m captivated, enchanted, and mesmerized by her.

  Thinking happy thoughts of my girl, I drift off into a deep sleep only to jolt awake covered in sweat.

  I had a bad dream, and I hope to God that it’s not a vision of the future.

  My dream was all about a beautiful house with a white picket fence and a wraparound veranda. I was walking with a young boy riding his bike, and Brooke was pushing a little girl on the swings. They were gorgeous, and we were all so happy.

  Then like in the Wizard of Oz, a tornado hits. Brooklyn and my kids were screaming and crying, but the force of the wind was too strong, and it carried them up and away. The house and our memories were all destroyed. Everything we’d built was gone. I fell to my knees and sobbed, completely alone and shattered.

  Then I woke up, still shaking terribly, upset, and distraught from how real it felt. Do dreams provide insight into the future, or is that all a myth?

  What if we are doomed from the start?

  Why couldn’t I have dreamt about rainbows and kittens?

  ****

  Two hours later, we get the all clear from the radio broadcaster that we can go back into our homes. Thomas is still asleep so I stand up and stretch, then splash some cool water on my face. I send Mom a text, checking on her.

  Me:

  Mom, are you okay?

  Are you still at the hospital?

  Mom:

  Yes, I’m still here, but we are safe.

  You boys okay?

  Me:

  Yes. I’m waking Tom soon to go back to the house.

  Tyler is with Chelsea and is safe.

  Love you.

  Mom:

  Oh, Tyson, I love you, my boy.

  Thank you for keeping your brothers safe.

  I gather our gear. I’m definitely eager to get out of here and to check on Brooklyn.

  “Tom, wake up,” I say softly to my brother.

  He startles awake. “Oh hey, is it over, Ty?” he asks me.

  “Yep, the radio has given us the all clear. Let’s go up,” I reply throwing him his backpack.

  He nods as we head for the stairs. I’m not sure what to expect outside. I remove the wooden post and then unlock the locks. Then I push with all of my strength opening the left side of the doors. It lands open with a loud thud.

  There is only a slight breeze now with a sprinkle of rain. But damn, the aftermath is insane. The shed is destroyed. Perhaps a metaphor for something regarding Dad.

  Thank God, our house only has minor damage—that takes a load off my mind.

  I help Thomas out. His hand looks a little swollen, so we will have to get that checked out.

  “Tom, Tyson, thank God,” I hear Tyler’s voice coming from the house.

  “Tyler!” Thomas shouts and bolts toward him. He gives him a bear hug. They have always had a connection, same as Tom and me, but different, unique in their own way.

  “Tom, will you be right with Tyler? I gotta go check on Brooklyn,” I ask him checking out his hand.

  “What the hell happened to you?” he questions Thomas.

  “Yep, you can go, Ty,” he tells me winking.

  “I’ve got it. You go to your woman,” Tyler states punching my arm.

  I literally sprint as I grab my car keys from my pocket and then I’m in my truck in record time. I drive as fast as I can without getting a ticket or hitting fallen trees, but there is quite a bit of debris on the roads. I pull onto Brooklyn’s street, and I’m so eager to see her I’m wriggling in my seat. I park and jump out, closing the door and running up the steps.

  I gently knock, wondering if they might be resting after the events of the last twenty-four hours. Maybe they are still in the basement? Then the front door opens. There she is, my angel, such a vision that I’ve missed.

  “Oh Brooklyn, thank God,” I say as she opens the door and dives into my arms. Our lips connect, and we kiss like we have been apart for weeks and not just twenty-four hours. And to think we were concerned this relationship may not work.

  “Oh Tyson,” she says as we take a breather. A single tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

  “I was so worried something bad would happen,” she admits as I squeeze her tight and kiss her neck.

  “Me too, but it’s all good. We are together again,” I announce to her. I’m hooked on this beautiful girl, the feeling is euphoric, and my heart is racing in my chest.

  She leans in and just gazes into my eyes. Showing me the love she feels as she smiles and kisses me again. We are so hungry for each other.

  “Come inside, it’s still cold. Have you showered?” she questions me. Then I notice her damn hair and soap scent; she is right out of the shower it’s so refreshing.

  “You smell divine,” I whisper as we walk inside. “No, I came straight here. Can I have a quick shower?” I ask her now realizing I’m probably a little gross and need freshening up.

  “Where are your Dad and brother?” I ask her, the house is quiet.

  “They showered and went to bed,” she responds. I glance at my watch. It’s seven in the morning, not long after sunrise.

  “Go and shower, you will feel so much better,” she insists and hands me a clean towel.
>
  So I have a nice hot shower, letting the warm water wash away the stress, worry, and disaster that could have been. My clothes aren’t dirty, the winter coat kept me clean, so I put them back on.

  I tiptoe to find Brooklyn. She is in her room all snuggled under the covers. I smile at the beautiful sight—she looks so comfortable and sweet.

  “Close my door Ty and come lay with me,” she pleads smiling.

  Well, I can’t refuse that offer. I close the door and climb in beside her; the warmth radiating from her is so inviting. Her arms are open, and she engulfs me with her body as I lay beside her. I wrap my arms around her, holding her and never wanting to let go.

  “Tyson, you have no idea how I felt tonight. I guess I didn’t realize how intense my feelings were until now,” Brooklyn states. “Seeing you again and feeling your touch; God it’s like nothing else in the world,” she declares, and it fills my heart. I feel so loved by her, and I love her so deeply. I kiss her lips passionately, as a thank you for her kind words.

  “Trust me, I know how you feel. I cherish and worship you, Brooklyn; you are it for me, now and forever baby,” I declare with all of my heart and soul.

  She smiles a big warm smile. This feeling we both have for each other is real. It is bigger than both of us. It really is exceptional.

  “Make love to me, Tyson, right here and right now,” she whispers to me taking me completely by surprise. “I want all of you. I want us connected in every possible way, baby,” she says to me and then her lips are on mine, kissing, tasting, and teasing.

  Oh God, this right now is heaven.

  I pause for a minute. “Are you sure, Brooke? Like totally, absolutely sure, baby?” I ask her as I want our first time to be special and mean something.

  “I have never been so sure of anything more in my life,” she tells me, and I nod as I feel exactly the same way. I kiss her deeply, pouring all of my emotions and love into the kiss. I caress her hair brushing it from her face and cheek. Her hands are wildly in my hair, and she pushes her body flush against mine.

  Her hands are roaming my body, she feels every inch of me as we kiss and taste each other. We forget the rest of the world. My hands roam under her shirt as I cup her breasts. She moans softly as I massage and caress them lovingly. She feels amazing. She wiggles out of her pajama pants. Shit, she has no pants on. I may combust. I’m so hard and turned on right now.