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CHAPTER ONE
Eastman Matthew Wolfkill was sitting between his brothers on the sidelines of their final high school basketball game. He was always sitting in the middle. It wasn’t something he consciously decided to do. It just seemed to always happen that way. It was as if his body said the middle is where you belong.
Eastman, or East, which eventually would become his call name, was a triplet. He was the middle child, born six minutes and forty-two seconds after his brother Everett. Seven minutes and fourteen seconds after Eastman was born, his brother, Ethan Ezekiel, popped his head out.
They were all big babies. More than seven pounds each and long. His mother lamented often about how they’d destroyed her rib cage and bladder. The boys always laughed, kissing her on the cheek, which seemed to calm her down.
But today, East was watching as their high school basketball team was attempting to blow the competitor out of the water. He and both of his brothers were part of the team, along with several other kids from Belle Fleur. They lost the championship game but were playing for third-best in the state. Third-best wasn’t what they wanted, but at least the Wolfkill boys would go out with pride in their senior year. All at six-feet-six. All well over two hundred pounds, they were a sight to behold with their dark hair and eyes, physiques that made not just their female classmates squirm but, more often than not, their mothers as well.
He looked at his brothers on either side of him and shook his head. It was their last game. They knew they weren’t headed to college. They’d had plenty of interest from division one and two colleges, but their path was to move to something far more challenging.
“Wolfs!” yelled the coach. He could never seem to get out ‘Wolfkills,’ so he’d shortened their last name years ago. “All three, back in. Win this for us.”
The three boys jumped up, waiting at the scoring table until the buzzer and the referee would allow them in. When their moment finally came, they took it. On their team were Dan Robicheaux, and Nathan and Michael Redhawk. All about the same size, all highly skilled athletes, they knew that they could make up the twelve-point difference and walk away with a trophy.
They could hear the groans from the spectators for the other team. They were known as the Wall. Nothing could get by them, through them, or block them. Within minutes, they were tied and driving the ball down the court once again. As time ticked by, East realized that they had only seconds left to score.
Knowing that his brother, Ethan, was the better three-point shooter, he found his opportunity and passed him the ball. As Ethan released the ball, you could almost hear everyone collectively holding their breath. But East knew it was in. He turned, walking back toward the bench with a smile on his face as the swish of the nylon net caused an eruption of cheers and applause.
Rett and Ethan jumped on East’s back, laughing and hugging.
“Thanks for that one, bro,” smiled Ethan. “Great pass.”
“You were the right shooter,” said East. “Your three-pointer is better than mine, my lay-up is better than yours, and Rett’s free-throw is better than both of ours.”
“That was somethin’ else, boys,” smirked the coach. “You three really do seem to operate off one brain.” The boys laughed, shaking their heads.
“Well, let’s hope that it’s three brains operating on one wavelength,” smirked East.
“That’s what I meant,” smirked Coach. “Y’all go on and enjoy the celebration with your families. Nice job.”
East looked up into the stands to see dozens of people from Belle Fleur. Hell, they were the stands. But there was one person, one very beautiful person, who caught his eyes. Brooke Elizabeth Liffey. She was the daughter of Sean and Shay.
She was blessed with the speed of her mother, albeit her mother’s wasn’t natural, but nevertheless, she was fast. Her long brown hair and big green eyes made him melt. Brooke smiled at him, giving him a thumbs-up, and he laughed, shaking his head. She was definitely not the chatty girl in the room. Less noise was better for her. And he loved that.
He watched as she made her way down the steps of the bleachers, saying hello to fellow students, family, and friends as she moved. Halfway down, Gil Thomason gripped her forearm, giving it a jerk. He watched her mouth form ‘ouch,’ and that was all it took. He shot up the steps like he was launched from a cannon.
“Oh, shit!” said Rett, slapping Ethan’s arm. They both took off after him.
“Let me go, Gil,” pleaded Brooke.
“Why won’t you answer my text messages?” he snarled.
“Because I’ve blocked you. I told you that I want nothing to do with you.”
“That’s right,” he smirked. “You don’t like white boys, do you? You got a taste for red meat.”
“Let her go,” growled East, “or this big piece of red meat will tear you apart in front of the entire school.”
Brooke could see Gil swallow hard, turning to look up at East. Seconds later, the other two shadows fell over his face. Gil knew he couldn’t take on all three brothers. Hell, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take one.
“You wouldn’t wanna ruin your scholarship chances,” smirked Gil.
“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” said East. “Let her go.”
He released Brooke’s arm, and Ethan gently pulled her behind him, blocking the other young man from even getting a glimpse of her.
“Are you claimin’ her?” asked the boy.
