A sharp sound woke me. Maybe it was the click of a door. Memories of Allie in the Jacuzzi and again in the bed, riding me, sucking me, rushed me. It was too good to be true. Before I opened my eyes I rolled over, reaching out an arm for the familiar curve of her warm body next to mine. We finally fell asleep, exhausted from hours of fucking, but still, maybe I could interest her in a little morning delight. When my hand hit cool sheets, my eyes popped open. Her spot on the bed was empty, and my hand touched a note instead of her body.

I sat up and read: Went to get breakfast. Hope you like Starbucks and muffins.

I groaned. Forget Starbucks. I’d rather have Allie for breakfast, taste her little muffin again.

I jumped out of bed and headed to the bathroom, estimating it’d take about ten minutes to fill the order and get back to the room, where I’d be splayed out on the bed, ready and waiting for her.

On the way back, I noticed the door to AJ’s bedroom standing open. With a quick peek, I checked inside but it was empty, the bed still made like it’d never been used. What the hell? He must’ve got laid last night?

I went to my phone on the nightstand next to the bed to check for a message, but there was only a short one. A beaming, happy smiley face. Yup, he got laid. Probably still sleeping. An image of AJ and Phoebe going at it popped into my head, and I shuddered. Then I remembered AJ going to some big party with Kevin and Eryk. Luckily, the previous TMI image was replaced with one of AJ passed out in an orgy, surrounded by hot chicks. I chuckled and returned my phone to the nightstand, thinking I should hit the shower and be fresh for when Allie retuned.

Just as I reached for the water faucet there was a knock at the door. Allie must’ve forgotten her key.

I called out as I got to the door, “Hey babe, that was quick.”

But when I opened the door it wasn’t Allie balancing a coffee carrier of food as I’d imagined.

Oh, Fuck!

I can’t believe it. Trouble over pussy, again.

Fuck!

It was Jade, the ex-beast.

I couldn't wait to hear the fucking fairytale he was going to spin now, because I knew Allie wanted nothing to do with him.

“Where’s my fucking wife, asshole?”

How the fuck did this dumb motherfucker find us? Wait…

“Wife?” That was the only word I got out before a set of large knuckles, blackened with too many tattoos sailed toward my face. I managed to sway enough this time to diminish the force of a full-on knockout punch, but he still caught be good enough; it’d leave a shiner.

I stumbled back into the room. I caught sight of another guy shoving into the room behind Jade. A cohort in crime, I was sure. I threw up my forearms in defense, but they both rushed me and the beat-down began.

I was helpless.

Even with all my football training and being in great athletic shape, I couldn’t stave off two of them. And this time, AJ wouldn’t be coming to the rescue. I wished I’d had fight training like my brother, the Marine. If only Ryan were here now, he’d know what to do.

Now all I could do was ward off kicks and punches, damaging the muscles I’d worked so diligently to tone. My thoughts drifted off, as tendrils of pain wrapped my torso and arms so sharp it blurred my mind. Somehow, I managed to curl into the fetal position, arms protecting my head. Then right before I passed out, Allie arrived in the open door with a scream and threw hot coffee on Jade and his goon. But all that did was throw them into a rage.

And then everything went black.

* * *

Wife?

I remembered something about Jade saying wife and then he planted his fist in my face. I rubbed the back of my head. It was throbbing. I winced and jerked my hand away when I felt a knot the size of a melon back there. I must’ve hit my head when I fell, or maybe it was from a biker boot to the head.

I winced again.

Where was I? It was daylight and I was on a bare mattress in a bedroom, no pillows, no blankets, half-propped up against the wall, half-slumped over, head hanging down. This place, whatever it was, looked abandoned. But why did my fucking head hurt? The lump, I got that, but this was a different sensation, a heavy lethargic weight, mostly in my head. Then I focused my attention to my arms and legs. They felt heavy, too, made of cement, legs glued to the bed. Was I dreaming all this?

I had to wake up, but it was a monumental effort. I wanted to stay in the fog. Not feel the pain. Go back to the darkness where there was no pain.

Wife?

No! Not, Allie.

I had to snap out of this. I had to help Allie. At that thought, the shock of adrenaline helped clear my mind. I had to go to Allie and help her.

Somewhere in the haze of images floating in my mind, bits and pieces began to mesh together and I began to remember. Jade and his buddy in the hotel room with Jade yelling, “Get the fuck out of her life. Go back to fucking college, pretty-boy asshole.” More yelling, more punching and...wait, how’d he know I went to college? My mind blurred again and I couldn’t follow that train of thought. Then I must’ve gotten dressed, somehow and we were out of the hotel. No, wait. Who left with me? Was AJ there? No. Allie was. Oh fuck. My heart sank.

I remembered a van ride. They tied my hands and blindfolded me. I was in the back, but...where was Allie? I drifted, a sick feeling grinding in the pit of my stomach now. Maybe I’d vomit. I looked to the side. I’d puke on the floor. It didn’t look like it would matter.

I held my side as the wave of nausea settled, but another sharp pain blasted at my ribs. That wasn’t good.

Fuck.

Boot to the ribs?

Yes. Fuck!

My eyes fell to a partially empty water bottle on the stained mattress. They left me water? Obviously, Jade didn’t want me dead. Just fucked up enough to get the message to leave Allie—his wife?—alone. I still couldn’t wrap my head around that one. Was Allie married to that beast? Didn’t see a ring, but still…how could she want a guy like Jade? He’d fallen out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down.

My mind began to clear as my concern for Allie rose. Then I flashed back to the van ride. They’d let her out at some point and she went with Jade, then I was brought here. But where was here?

Groaning, I sat up, feeling the life coming back into my legs. My head buzzed, like I was drunk...fuck. I grabbed the water bottle and stared at it. I was dying of thirst. I opened it and started to tip it to my parched mouth, but stopped. No, this wasn’t drunk, or hung over. This was drugged. I’d been drugged. That was the reason for the blackout, the spotty memory, the…

Fuuuk!

I don't need this right now. I had to get back to campus. The Draft picks...Allie and...

Fuuuuuck!!!! I held my head with both hands, groaning it out through the pain. My career was over! Saul was going to kill me. He’d be looking for me, texting, calling...my phone. I patted my pockets. I hoped beyond all hope, but then fell back defeated. Of course, they didn’t give me my phone.

I looked around the room again, a dirty mess. There was a broken lamp, the shade tipped at an angle, sitting on a busted up dresser with garbage and food wrappers strewn around the floor. Desert dust everywhere. No phone. Probably no electricity or water. I glanced at the bottle again. I’d need water to survive. I knew that much, but not the water in that bottle. It was probably laced with...who the hell knew.

Motherfuckers.

But where was I? I needed to get up and take a look around. I assumed I was in some kind of an abandoned house, but where? I had a sinking feeling when I looked out the window I wouldn’t see a bustling city. It was too quiet for that.

I pushed myself up from the mattress, got my feet under me, but the minute I put weight on my left ankle, there was a sharp pain. I hopped on my right and threw a palm out to balance on the dresser.

Fuck!

My stomach clenched in more pain. My right shoulder, my throwing arm hurt like hell from the small amount of exertion I’d made to get up. I was fucked.

I hobbled to the window, where a dreary yellow curtain hung, covered in dust then took a look outside. Sure enough, there was nothing but the dry desert landscape. I craned my neck in each direction, but there were no roads, no vehicles, no signs of life. Just a bunch of junk scattered around the yard as far as I could see, if you could call that a yard. It looked like the back area with a fire pit had been used for parties. Broken beer bottles, some embedded in the sandy soil, littered the ground around it and not far from the fire pit were more broken bottles, and bullet riddled beer cans.

Another flash of memory and I remembered my childhood with Ryan, when we were in Scouts, the summer we went to camp. We’d learned a survival technique, called: STOP. It meant, stop, think, observe and plan.

That’s what I’d do. I had to get out of here and find Allie. Fuck Jade and what he’d do to me, fuck that Saul would be pissed, fuck everything. All that mattered was getting out of here so I could find Allie.

Although my ankle hurt, I’d have to walk. I had no other choice. Even if it meant further injury, I'd just have to deal with it.

Still thinking about a survival plan, I remembered something else. Years after Scouts, when Ryan was home on leave from the Marines, he told me about his survival training. He’d been trained in both winter snow survival and desert survival. Water was the most important thing I needed, I knew that, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. I moved out of the bedroom, eyes scanning my surroundings for anything else I might be able to use. As I passed the bathroom I stopped, remembering more about what Ryan had told me. I glanced at the medicine cabinet. The cabinet mirror was broken, but several pieces were still intact. I went into the bathroom and bashed my fist on the mirror until a decent size piece fell out. I carefully put it in my back pocket. Ryan had said they used small mirrors as reflectors, to signal for help in case they were lost.

I worked my way out to the kitchen and found the back door of the abandoned house. I looked around the kitchen. I doubted there'd be water and sure enough, when I flipped the faucet on the kitchen sink, nothing happened. No surprise there.

One of the kitchen cupboards stood open, but there was nothing in the cupboard except a couple cans of beans. No liquids. Still nothing to drink. Determined not to let that stop me, I continued on.

Once outside the back door, I took in the bleak situation. I was far from any kind of civilization, and I had absolutely no idea which way to go. It was the same as my view from the bedroom window. No other buildings, no roads with cheery streetlights, no signs of life.

I looked up at the blazing sun, wondering how long I could make it, and struck out in the direction of some rocks I saw in the distance. I didn’t know why I chose the direction of the rocks. I just did. Call it instinct. Then I realized I was staring at tire tracks in the sand, heading in the same direction. They were faint, most of the details erased by the wind, but still visible, giving me direction and hope.

I went slowly, babying my injured ankle, and holding my ribs as I moved. As I passed the fire pit and the broken down chairs around it, something in the dirt caught my eye. It was a bottle of beer with the cap intact. It wasn’t water, but maybe it was full, and at least I could drink it.

I kicked at it with the shoe of my good foot balancing a hand on the arm of the old couch and loosened the bottle from the dirt. But as I freed it, I discovered it was the broken top-half of a bottle. With an irritated huff, I threw it on the ground.

I glared at the dilapidated couch, divots in the cushions from years of use. Who'd put a piece of living room furniture by a fire pit?

Oh yeah, fucker, Jade.

Then I noticed something stuck between the dirty cushions and upon further inspection I discovered it was a full bottle of beer, luckily, a twist top. I snagged it and stuck it in the back pocket without the mirror. Even if warm and skunked, at least it’d stave off dehydration. I hoped. Then I took off in the direction of the rocks again.

The sun blazed across the desert as I limped along, until the pain in my ankle became unbearable. I came upon a rock formation and decided to stop and rest. I felt like fucking crap. My head hurt, my ribs hurt, my arms hurt. Fucking everything hurt and my mouth was parched. Without thinking, I pulling the bottle of beer from my back pocket and slumped down in the shade of a large rock. I leaned my back against the hard surface of the rock, and let my body slide down. Before my butt hit the ground I remembered the jagged piece of mirror in the other pocket. I reached for it, but too late. My fingers hit the edge of the mirror as my ass hit the ground. I felt the sharp sting of pain in my finger first and then heard the crunch of the mirror glass.

Fuck! My finger!

I yanked my hand away from the glass and a bright red trail began to snake down my middle finger. I put pressure on it with my other hand, cursing the whole while for being so stupid. After a minute, I let off the cut and inspected it. It wasn’t so bad after all, more of a prick than a slash. I wiped the blood on my t-shirt, retrieved the beer from where I’d dropped it and twisted off the top, prepared for the nasty taste of old, warm beer.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought and I took another drink, not sure what to do now. Spring break was almost over, I was lost and I didn't know how the fuck I’d get back to college. Or how much fucking damage had been done to my body. It was possible that from these injuries, my career could be over. But more importantly, where the hell was Allie? I should've blamed her, been angry with her for all this, yet I wasn't sorry I’d met her despite everything. In my heart I wanted to help her, but how the hell could I do that in the middle of fucking nowhere? I surmised that she must be with Jade. And if she stayed with Jade, she’d never realize her dreams. Or who knew what would happen if Jade didn’t leave her alone. My imagination filled with all kinds of worst-case scenarios.

What had I gotten myself into? I could find a way out of this crap fest and help Allie, or I could forget her and try to get my career back on track. Assess the damage and move forward. Maybe I should just let her go.

I thought back to when I first met Allie and I knew I couldn’t find it in me to do such a thing. I wasn't sure if I believed in love at first sight, but I knew how I felt every time I looked at her. I wish it weren't so, but I was in deep already.

I let my mind wander. I pictured her sitting in the bleachers at a football game, me playing for an NFL team and she’d be cheering me, hair blowing in the wind, jumping up and down, tits bouncing under a jersey with my number on it. Hmm, that’d be nice. That’d be the future with her, but probably wouldn't happen.

Then I thought of the alternative. A miserable life with Jade stuck in Flagstaff where she didn’t belong. No water to sooth her soul. Being called, “Jade’s Old Lady,” submitting to his every desire, hollow and devoid of passion—a shell of the person she was meant to be. I had to get out and find her. I had to save her from that life and help her realize her dreams.

Then I thought about AJ. He’d be worried about me and for once his hyperactive obsession with details would come in handy. He’d probably called the police and reported me missing already. My phone was still there and my duffle bag so hopefully he would assume something bad happened. I wondered if he’d found my clues when he returned to the hotel suite. I made sure to knock over some wine glasses and decorative knick-knacks in the fight, signs that I’d struggled and didn’t just leave.

But what did AJ, or even I, know about Jade anyway? What could he tell the cops? All we knew was his first name and that he was from the Flagstaff area. We didn't even know for sure if it was Flagstaff, a suburb, or maybe some small-town outside Flagstaff. My heart sank. I didn't have much hope of the cops finding Jade or me. AJ didn’t even know it was Jade who took me, but I hoped he at least had a hunch, considering Allie’s text about Jade looking for her. At the time, we thought she was overreacting, and Jade didn’t have the G2 to find us. Yet, for all AJ new, I was just passed out somewhere, booze-fucked.

I reigned in the urge to keep drinking the flat beer and set the bottle to my side. Then I leaned forward off my ass and carefully removed the largest pieces of the broken mirror.

There wasn’t much to work with but I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed there was at least one section that would work.

I tipped my head, gauging the rise of the sun in the sky.

Fuck.

What did I know about reading the sun for the time of day? Only what I’d learned in Boy Scouts. Without a watch to back me up on my estimations, I realized I was no good at using a stick in the ground and shadow of the sun.

I gazed off to the horizon, examining what was out there, trying to get up the energy to stand and walk again, when something caught my eye. There was a silhouette of a man standing on top of a large rock formation in the distance. I watched, not understanding what he was doing. He stood tall, stretched both arms to the sky, then brought his hands together above his head, folded in prayer. It was a strange sight to see, but my heart leapt with excitement.

I got to my feet, the largest piece of mirror in hand and began teetering the glass, hoping to catch the reflection of the sun, sending it in the man’s direction. I wiggled it fast, then slowly, moved it up and down, then side to side, not sure if there was a technique to this, or if he’d see my signal at all.

The figure turned and just when I was hopeful, he disappeared from the rock. Dejected, I slumped back down. It didn’t work. He didn’t see me. Cursing, I pitched the mirror piece as far as I could out onto the sandy desert floor. A sharp pain flared on the side of my throwing arm and I winced. Not a good sign.

I sat there feeling like shit, thinking what a huge mistake I’d made. I should’ve stuck with my plan. No chicks. No relationships.

But fuck it. I’m in neck deep. There’s no going back now. Just as I was about to force myself to get on my feet and walk, I heard a noise. I shook my head, maybe it was my imagination, due to dehydration, or whatever shit they put in my water. The sound came closer, and I paused to listen. It was the rumble of an engine, like a motorcycle.

Oh, fuck no.

Maybe it’s Jade, or one of his goons. But it couldn’t be. The roar of the engine wasn’t deep like a Harley. It was higher in pitch, like a dirt bike. I scanned the horizon, focusing on the direction of the sound and saw something. I climbed to my feet, holding my side and squinting into the sun. It looked like a person on a quad, knitting their way through the dry desert shrubs, which were hardly worth calling shrubs with their sparse leaves.

As the quad approached, I started waving my arms the best I could, mostly the left one as my right still hurt like hell. To my amazement, the quad drove right up to me and stopped. Although he wore a riding helmet, I could tell by his stature and build, it was a man. He shut off the engine, dismounted and removed his helmet.

“Hey, man. I saw your signal.” He glanced at the blood on my shirt. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Thanks,” I said, still on guard and not sure who this guy was. “I seem to be a little lost.”

The man had a kind face and long hair tied in a ponytail, but he was wearing riding gear so I couldn’t deduce anything from his clothes, accept that he purchased the usual name brands, plastered down the sleeve of his shirt. He wore standard riding boots, the kind of equipment only someone who rides dirt bikes in the desert wore for protection. He probably wasn’t one of Jade’s buddies.

“I see you’re holding your side. Are you hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m kinda in bad shape. I think I might have a broken rib or something.”

The guy pursed his lips and nodded, staring at my face. I had a little black and blue memento there, from where I got punched in the face by Jade. Saw it in the mirror before I smashed it. But I still wasn’t ready to tell the stranger everything.

The guy continued to study me, his eyes raking up and down my body. Then he looked to my right and to my left. “You’re not out here with a dirt bike are you? I don’t see a helmet and you’re wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Not very smart for riding, if you know what I mean.” He gave me a crooked smile. “Looks like you had quite a run in with someone who wasn’t very happy to see you.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Well, anyway. You don’t have to explain to me, you’re in safe hands now. I’m Phoenix.” He tucked his helmet under one arm and held out a hand to shake.

I stuck out my hand and thought, that’s an odd name. Must be his last name. “Oh, um, nice to meet you Mr….Phoenix, is it?” I asked. I looked puzzled for a moment, then furrowed my brow.

“Just Phoenix. It’s the name I was given by my spirit guide. I live in a commune over that ridge.” He motioned with a head jerk in the direction of the horizon.

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. What a coincidence!

What were the chances I’d end up near Phoebe’s commune? From the looks of the house I’d been dumped in, I thought I was at the end of the earth. Now, I was only hours from Vegas, and probably closer to Flagstaff. Maybe Allie was there. Not so bad after all.

“Hmm, I see…” I said. “Does your spirit guide happen to know Shoshonee?”

“What?” Now it was his turn to look puzzled.

I shook my head, looking down at the dry sand covering my expensive running shoes. Maybe there was something to this karma stuff after all. I was left for dead in the middle of fucking who knows where, and I run into a friend of Phoebe’s. What were the odds?

“Um, never mind. Anyway, can you help me? I don’t have a cell phone, or a car, or anything.”

“Sure. It’s good karma to help others. You see, I believe I was sent out to this particular rock on purpose this morning. I was meant to come help you.” He waved to the rock formation where he’d stood.

I furrowed my brows. “Yeah? What was all that about, anyway? I saw you standing on that rock and…well it looked kind of strange. What were you doing?” I didn’t want to offend the guy. I mean, he was my savior. “Was it some sort of prayer ritual you were practicing out there?”

“Yes, but more like a meditation. The Sun Salutation. Opens the chakras nicely.” He made the “praying hands” gesture to the sky to demonstrate.

I still must’ve looked puzzled so he explained, “A yoga pose. I use it with my meditation.”

“Ah, I see.”

At this point I wobbled a little, hopping on my good foot and Phoenix noticed. “Oh, I’m sorry. We should get you off that foot and out of this heat and...do you need water? How long have you been out here?”

I shrugged and looked at the sun. “I don’t know. I’m no good at this shit. I failed the Read the Time by the Fucking Sun, Scouting badge.” Then I looked at my wrist, but had no watch. “Let’s see. I’d say it’s a hair past a fucking I don’t know shit about what time it is and I’ve been out here...by my estimations...too fucking long.” Maybe I was delirious from lack of water, or maybe the throbbing pain in my body was making me act like an asshole.

Phoenix seemed to understand and nodded, reaching for a bottle of water from a bag on his quad.

He handed it to me and I apologized. “Sorry, I’m a little snappy. Injuries and all.” I opened the water and downed most of it in one long gulp. I didn’t want to go into a big explanation right now, why it was so critical for me to keep my body in tiptop condition. That could wait until later, if at all.

“Come on. Get on the back. I’ll give you a ride to the commune and we can get you fixed up. Do you have someone you can call to come pick you up?”

“Call? I thought you didn’t use phones at the commune.”

Phoenix pulled in his chin, perplexed. “How do you know anything about the commune?”

I just shrugged so he continued.

“We have a phone. A landline. Kind of old fashioned but…each to their own.”

I shifted my weight to walk to the quad and a twinge of pain shot through my ankle. He gave me an arm and I hopped on my good foot the rest of the short distance. “Well, look, Phoenix, you’re not gonna believe this, but I actually met one of your…” Was there a word for a fellow commune resident? “One of your fellow...um, groupies...er, friends? Her name’s Phoebe.”

He nodded and pulled the strap on his helmet tight. Seated on the quad, I wasn’t sure he heard all of what I said through the helmet, so I figured we’d talk more later, once we got back to the commune and after phoning AJ to come get me.

And then I’d have to call Saul, so he could yell at me for being a fucking idiot and getting myself into this mess.