Page 24 of Sometimes You Fall

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Sipping my beer as I lie back in my recliner, I watch the highlights on ESPN, much like I do every night. Thank God it’s Friday, which means I have tomorrow off. Chet manages the garage on Saturdays, and we’re only open until two in the afternoon, so he gets a few extra hours off as well.

My eyelids struggle to stay open as the words and images on the TV become blurry. I set my beer on the coffee table, fold my hands over my chest, and promise myself I’m only going to shut my eyes for a fewminutes. Hours pass before the sound of breaking glass jolts me from a deep sleep.

My pulse instantly spikes. I jerk my head toward the window that overlooks my property, seeing flashes of light move around in the distance near the garage.

“What the fuck?” Launching myself from my recliner, I head for the window, peering through the blinds as a few figures move around the building, their flashlights casting shadows against the ground and walls. “Oh, hell no.” I stalk toward my room and head straight for my gun safe, entering the code and grabbing my shotgun. I shove a few shells in my pocket before slipping on my shoes and ripping my front door open.

I don’t plan on shooting anyone, but I know that the sound of a shotgun being cocked is enough to make anyone think twice about what they’ve done.

Carrington Cove might be a small town, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t bad seeds here like anywhere else. It’s moments like this that I’m glad I installed an alarm system in the garage when I bought the place from Mr. Rogers. He never saw the need for it, but I wanted to protect my investment. There’s a lot of money sitting in that shop, and as my phone vibrates in my pocket, alerting me that the sensors have been tripped and the police notified, I’m grateful the alarm is silent. It gives me a chance to surprise the intruders myself.

Noise and voices echo from inside the garage as I get closer. I think I saw three shadows, but there could be more men than that.

“Come on!” one of the voices whisper-shouts. “You’re running out of time.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” another voice whispers back. I draw closer to the building, slipping inside the front door and tiptoeing through the office they just went through.

“Don’t be a pussy. You want to be on the team, right? Then prove it.”

The more I listen, the more aware I become that these voices don’t belong to men. Hell, one of the kids sounds like he just went through puberty.

Holding my gun, I debate what to do. I don’t want them to piss their pants, so I set the gun by the door and reach for my phone, ready to turn on the flashlight. I wait for the right moment to make my move. Sirens wail in the distance, so I know the police are almost here, but I’ll be damned if these kids get away before I get a chance to let them know whose business they fucked with.

“Hurry up!”

A loud crash of metal on metal assaults my ears, followed by laughter. When the sound of breaking glass follows in a matter of seconds, I rip open the door. “Hey!”

Three teenage boys twist to face me, eyes wide and terrified. The one holding the baseball bat drops it to the floor and freezes while one of the others screams, “Run!”

I barely have a second to realize the kid with the bat crushed the hood in on the Nova before they all take off in different directions. Since bat boy thought vandalizing my car was his idea of a fun Friday night, I run after him.

I lose track of where the other two boys went as I close in on bat boy, who is sprinting toward the back exit. With a quick lunge, I grab the hood of his jacket and yank him back.

“No!” he shouts as he falls to the concrete floor, still trying to wriggle free. But I pounce on him, pinning him to the ground beneath me, holding his hands at his sides.

“Gotcha, you little shit!”

“Get off of me!”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

The sound of a boot hitting a door pulls my attention to the reception area, and three police officers come barreling into the garage, their guns poised.

“Hands in the air!” Frank, one of the officers I know fairly well, yells when he sees me pinning the kid to the floor.

“It’s me, Frank. I caught one of the kids who broke in, but the other two got away.”

The kid beneath me struggles to throw me off, but I’ve got a hundred pounds on him, easily. I’ve put on a shit ton of muscle because working out became one of the only things I could focus on after my career ended. But I give him points for at least continuing to put up a fight. He’s gonna need that gumption to get out of this.

Frank lowers his gun, signaling to the other two officers to do the same. “Where did the other two go?”

“Outside, I think. They probably slipped through the back.”

“Go check outside,” Frank tells his companions before walking over to us. “What’s your name, kid?” he asks the boy, who’s finally stopped moving.

He scowls up at Frank, his jaw clenched. “I’m not telling you.”

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