CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JACK
“You’re fidgeting,” Rodriguez observes, pulling into the sports complex parking lot. “Since when do you fidget?”
“Since when do you care?” I scan the fields, looking for the right one. It’s a circus out here—kids in uniforms everywhere, parents hauling coolers and folding chairs, coaches with clipboards barking orders.
His son, Diego, bounces in the backseat. “Is this your girlfriend’s kid’s game? Mom says you have a girlfriend now.”
“She’s not my—” I catch Rodriguez’s amused look in the mirror. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated with you.” He parks next to a Tesla with vanity plates reading ‘CRYPTO1’. “Bet that belongs to the ex.”
I spot Field 3, see a familiar figure setting up a folding chair. Sophia’s in jeans and a Metro General Fun Run t-shirt, hair in a ponytail, looking absolutely perfect.
“There she is,” Rodriguez says, following my gaze. “My man, you’ve got it bad .”
A man joins her—tall, artificially white teeth, carefully styled hair. The Tesla owner, I’m guessing. Troy. He’s got his arm around a blonde woman who looks like she stepped out of a yoga Instagram ad.
“That the ex?” Rodriguez asks.
“Yeah.”
“He looks like he sells NFTs to elderly people.”
Despite my nerves, I laugh. “Crypto, actually. According to his license plate.”
“Even worse.” Rodriguez grabs the coffee carrier from the back. “Come on, Romeo. Time to meet the family.”
We cross the field, and I try not to overthink how Sophia’s shoulders stiffen when she spots us. Or how her smile seems forced.
“Jack.” She stands, and there’s something in her eyes I can’t read. “You came.”
“Said I would.” I hold out the coffee. “Red-eye, blonde roast, extra caffeine. Figured you might need it.”
Her fingers brush mine as she takes it. “You remember my coffee order?”
“I remember everything about you.”
Rodriguez coughs dramatically. “Hi, I’m Luis Rodriguez, the wingman. And you are the famous Sophia Mitchell. Lovely to meet you outside the hospital.”
“Famous?” She shakes his hand, glancing between us.
“Oh yeah. Kiwi here hasn’t shut up about—”
“And that’s enough from you.” I turn to the Tesla couple. “Jack McKenzie. I work with Sophia.”
Troy looks me up and down like he’s calculating my net worth. “Troy Bentley. This is Tiffany.” He doesn’t offer his hand.
The blonde—Tiffany—smiles vaguely. “Are you Madison’s coach? Troy says she needs more focused training to reach her potential.”
“He’s a paramedic,” Sophia says, something sharp in her tone. “A friend.”
Friend. Right.
“Paramedic?” Troy’s expression shifts to barely concealed disdain. “That’s…nice. Important work, I’m sure.”
“Speaking of work,” Tiffany chirps, “Troy’s latest investment in wellness tech is absolutely exploding. We’re disrupting the entire supplement industry. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, ‘Even the smallest person can change the course of the future.’”
I bite my tongue so hard, I can almost taste blood.
“That’s…that’s from Lord of the Rings ,” Rodriguez says slowly. “Galadriel. Not…not MLK.”
Tiffany blinks vapidly. “Oh, well, the sentiment still applies to our wellness journey!”
Troy’s face has gone slightly red, but he doubles down. “Tiffany’s very well-read. She’s always finding inspiration in unexpected places.”
“There’s Madison!” Sophia interrupts, pointing to the field. A teen with Sophia’s dark hair is juggling a soccer ball, laughing with teammates.
She’s good. Really good. The kind of natural athlete that makes it look effortless.
The thought hits me before I can stop it: she’d be a phenomenal wing in rugby.
That explosive speed, the footwork, the spatial awareness.
Emma would spot her potential in seconds.
I make a mental note to mention it someday, if things ever… progress.
“She gets that from me,” Troy says. “Played in college.”
Rodriguez snorts. “Intramural doesn’t count as Division II, bro.”
I bite back a laugh as Troy’s face reddens. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”
“Luis Rodriguez. Paramedic. My kid’s on the other team. That’s Diego, number 12, right next to that absolute fox of a coach.” He points to a smaller kid doing keepie-uppies. “Diego got a scholarship to the academy program. They’re already scouting him for the national youth team.”
He grins. “The other one lets me scout her every night.”
Troy deflates slightly. Tiffany fills the silence with something about the crystal healing properties of athletic wear.
I’m not really listening—Sophia’s standing close enough that I can smell her shampoo, something citrusy and clean—and she keeps glancing at me with that unreadable expression, like she’s waiting to see what I’ll do.
The ref blows the whistle. Madison looks up from the field and spots me, her brow furrowing. She glances at her mom, who gives her the tiniest nod.
Madison’s eyes widen. She waves, tentative at first, then more confidently when I return it, and shoots Sophia a discreet thumbs-up before jogging back into position.
“So,” Troy says, apparently unable to help himself, “what station do you work out of, Jake?”
“Jack,” I correct. “And Station 2. Downtown.”
“Tough area,” he muses. “But I suppose someone has to do it. The pay must be…adequate.”
“Troy,” Sophia warns.
“What? I’m just making conversation. Tiffany’s brother is a doctor. Now that’s a career with growth potential.”
“Her brother’s a chiropractor,” Sophia mutters. “Who lost his license in two states.”
A burst of movement pulls my attention. Madison jogs over from the sidelines, slightly out of breath and still in her shin guards. “Mom, Coach says I can sub out for five. I saw you talking and I just wanted to say hi.”
She turns to me with a quick, curious smile. “You’re Jack, right?”
I nod. “And you’re Madison. Good to meet you, superstar.”
Her eyes brighten. “You remembered my name.”
“Hard to forget when your mom talks about you like she’s your agent.”
She laughs, then glances at Sophia. “I’ll be back in ten.” She waves to Tiffany and Troy, then darts off again.
I turn to Sophia, about to comment on Madison’s whirlwind energy, when my phone buzzes. Emergency alert from dispatch. Mass casualty incident on I-95. All available units.
Rodriguez’s phone goes off simultaneously. We exchange looks.
“Multi-vehicle accident,” he reads. “Gotta be a pileup. They’re calling everyone in.”
My eyes meet Sophia’s immediately. A silent oh, fuck understanding passes between us. An all-units call means casualties. Multiple. Serious. The kind of scene that sticks with you for years.
As if on cue, Sophia’s phone buzzes too. She glances at it with a pained wince.
“Go,” she says immediately to us. “Both of you.” She’s already pulling out her phone, hitting a speed dial. “Hey, it’s Sophia. I saw the alert. Do you need me to…” She pauses, listening. “Okay. Okay, but if that changes…Yeah, I can be there in twenty.”
She hangs up, looks at us. “They’ve got full staffing right now, but I’m on standby. Now go. People need you.”
“You sure?” But I’m already backing toward the parking lot. This is the job. This is why we both do this.
“Of course. Be safe.” She turns to Troy. “Can you take Madison to Chloe’s after the game if I get called in?”
Troy makes a smug noise. “See, this is why stability matters. You can’t just—”
“They’re going to save lives, Troy,” Sophia says calmly. “And I might need to help with the aftermath. So yes or no on Madison?”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But this is exactly what I mean about—”
“Shut up, Troy,” Sophia says evenly. A surprising thrill runs through me at her directness. No drama, no raising her voice…just calm authority. “Jack, go. Both of you.”
I catch her eye, see something fierce and proud there. It makes my chest tight.
“I’ll call you later,” I promise.
“You better.”
Rodriguez waves and blows his wife a kiss, then he and I run for his car. As we peel out of the parking lot, he glances at me. “That ex is a real piece of work.”
“Yeah.”
“Mitchell handled it well, though. You see her face when the alert came through? Looked damn proud of you. That’s no fancy feat, my man.”
I had seen it. That fierce expression, the immediate understanding. No complaints about leaving, no guilt trips. Just “be safe.”
“Drive faster,” I tell him. “People need us.”
But I’m already thinking about after. About calling Sophia. About explaining…well, not the money. Not yet. But about us. About what this is becoming.
About why she matters more than anything else.