“Blue, look at me.”

“I’m not Blue.” Urine seeps out onto the ground as her body begins to shake violently. “Lea…lea…leave me alone.”

I can’t help but grab her hand and hold it in mine, trying to calm her poor body. I have no doubt this is my Blue, and I can’t even begin to process what in the fuck got her in this condition. I place my other hand on her cheek and gently force her to look in my eyes.

“Look at me, Blue, I’m here for you.”

She nestles her head into my touch, relaxing into my palm, and her hand stops shaking so rapidly. Tears form in her eyes and begin rolling down her cheeks.

Turning around, I see the two volunteers staring at us. “Call 911 right now, and the cops.”

My voice comes out harsh, and I feel Blue tense in my hold once again, so I go right to calming her back down.

“Blue, do you remember me?”

She’s frozen and slowly drifting back into a dark state.

“You’re a cheerleader. I play football. You make me do your homework.” I ramble on and on, trying to remember everything about us. “You loved me, Blue, and I love you. I was an asshole.”

She eases back into my hand, resting her cheek in it, and closes her eyes. I take her trembling hand and bring it to my shirt. Lifting my shirt, I run her palm up and down the ripples of marred skin she used to worship on a nightly basis. Blue opens her eyes, lifting her head to look at me, and then her gaze goes straight to where her hand is placed.

“Tuck,” she whispers.

“Yes, Tuck. Blue, I’m here for you.”

Her body convulses again. I swoop her up into my arms and roll her into my lap. Blue buries her head in my chest, burrowing into a tiny ball. Her body doesn’t still as she repeats my name over and over again. I sob into her filthy mess of hair as I feel her wet herself again. I keep talking to her while we wait for help.

“Your mom and dad are looking too, Blue. We never gave up. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much and was such an asshole. Fuck, I hope you can forgive me. I’m never leaving you again.”

My last sentence strikes a nerve with her, breaking the trance she’s trapped in. Her hair flies up, and then her hollow face is in mine. She’s beyond unhealthy. The word fragile doesn’t even begin to describe her.

“You put a curse on my heart, Tuck. I can only love you.”

I watch in slow motion as her eyes roll back in her head and her entire body goes limp in my arms. Sirens and flashing lights fill the room in the next moment. Emergency workers swoop in and take her from my arms. Before standing, I grab my phone from my pocket.

“I found her. She’s alive.”

Blue’s dad’s response is a click of the phone, and I know he’s on his way here. I fall back on the floor, staring up at the water-stained ceiling tiles, and squeeze my temples and finally feel for the first time in months. I found her. Blue is alive.

Epilogue

“Mommy, what does that say again?”

“The curse of my warrior.”

“Tell me the story again.”

I ruffle little Will’s hair and scoop him up in my lap. There’s plenty of time before the game starts, and we really don’t have much to entertain ourselves in the bleachers, and I never miss a chance to stare in his beautiful and very curious eyes.

“Remember, silly boy.” I poke the tip of his nose. “It’s part of my vows from my wedding day. I got it tattooed on my arm to never forget.”

“But who’s your warrior?”

This little four year old’s questions never get old, and it still amazes me how curious he is.

“Your daddy.”

“But then who am I?”

“My hero.” I ruffle his dark hair again and wait for him to swat my hand away.

“Grandma,” Will yells with absolutely no control on the level of his voice. Tuck is constantly worried he’ll grow up and want to be a cheerleader the way he can yell. It’s our running inside joke.

Will bounds down the bleachers and flies into the arms of my mom. I’d like to think I was his favorite person on this Earth, but that would just be a lie. My mom and Will are inseparable. They are always a bittersweet picture of perfection, yet my heart cringes every single time I see them embrace.

My dad was diagnosed with a fast-acting cancer when I was three months pregnant and passed away three months after that. The man who raised me, loved me unconditionally, and forced me to get back to living after my attack simply wasted away before my eyes. Tuck stood by my side while I lay in bed with my dad day after day and watched him lose the fight.

Tuck and my dad became best friends after finding me, and were shits at times, but completely lovable shits who adored me. We spent three sweet years together with my dad and mom before he passed. It’s those memories I cling on to. My father walking me down the aisle, handing me off to Tuck, then wrapping Tuck up in a hug before turning to sit with Mom. It’s not tradition, but he gave away Tuck that day as if he were his father. It had nearly all of the attendees at our wedding in tears. I’ve seen Tuck Jones cry three times in my life. When he opened up to me about his past, the day my dad hugged him at our wedding, and when Will came into our lives.

Yet my selfless king stood by me the entire time, watching my father fade, and then held me through grieving, never being selfish even though he was hurting as badly as I was. When my little wild child miniature Tuck came shooting out in the world, there was only one name suited for our perfect prince, Will W. Jones. And since the universe never gets tired of playing jokes on me, he has my dad’s sense of humor, intelligence, and Tuck’s athletic abilities. The boy is constantly wandering the house with a pigskin tucked under his arm. My dad would’ve had the boy running plays already.

I never went back to Preston after my freshman year. I stayed at home with my parents and immersed myself in online classes and several sessions of counseling. The day it was released I was found, Steve turned himself in, and then shortly ratted out Stephie. Their mission…to force my hand and make me leave. They won, and that fact haunted me for months. She wanted head cheerleader and wouldn’t stop at anything. But if it weren’t for Tuck’s endless love and continued support, I’d still believe they won.

My dad’s words rang true. Once a snake, always a snake. Stephie and Steve simply fucked up because Dad was the ultimate snake killer, putting them both away for life. He hired the best lawyers and didn’t relent. I’ve never fully remembered the elapsed time in my life. My last memory was being knocked out and then coming back to with my palm pressed against Tuck’s skin. Doctor after doctor tried to get my memory back, but it never came. I know it’s the best blessing of all.

But what actually happened is Stephie and Steve instilled a drive and passion in me that will never die or be extinguished by another threat. I found my niche in life, and that’s in counseling and coaching. And ultimately they landed me right in the middle of Tuck Jones’ hurricane life. Neither of us would’ve ever been brave enough to peel back all our protective layers until we saw the real person standing on the other side.

Tuck was never an option, rather a force I had to face, and against all odds we’ve made it. He finished his senior year, winning a national championship with me and my parents, and of course, his family by his side. I never missed a college game. The day he refused to enter the NFL draft was more heartbreaking for me than for him. He wanted nothing to do with it, even though he was expected to be drafted in the first round.

Tuck wanted to buy a home, open his accounting business, marry me, and knock me up. He made that statement every single time I brought up the conversation. He’s still bullheaded as fuck and an asshole, but he’s all mine.