Excerpt – Sample Chapter

Three hours earlier…

Even though the University of Arizona had dismissed students two weeks early for Christmas break, Tyler Martin and Josh Sykes stayed behind for baseball practice…and some extra holiday partying. Now, with the holiday actually here, they were finally headed home to San Diego.

Their girlfriends, Madison Bream and Hailey Jones—also Arizona students—had flown back to Tucson on the Martin family’s private jet to join them for the ride home.

The premium sound system of the Ford Shelby pickup blasted Waka Flocka

Flame’s “No Hands.” The bass thudded so hard it rattled the door panels.

Tyler pulled off the interstate at a truck stop. Despite Madison’s father making a career out of suing trucking companies, Tyler had a quiet fascination with trucks. Their size, their purpose, the nods exchanged between drivers like a secret fraternity. Part of him wondered what it might be like someday—just him, a big rig, and an open road.

While Tyler gassed up, Josh wandered inside to grab more beer and maybe score some weed. He returned grinning, pockets full, munchies already in full effect and a sack of tacos in hand.

Inside the restroom, Hailey got hit on by another woman. Hailey politely shrugged it off—too kind to be offended. Madison, ever theatrical, burst out laughing loud enough to send the woman scurrying.

A half hour later, they were back on I-8, barreling west.

Tyler and Josh were Arizona’s golden boys. Scouts shadowed them. Sportswriters name-dropped them. Their futures glowed bright.

Tyler, team captain, was a slick-fielding shortstop who hit for average and ran like a thief who’d stolen something. He led the nation in steals and runs scored—a throwback to players like Pete Rose, whom Tyler admired.

Pedigree helped. He was the son of Richard Martin, owner of one of California’s most successful Ford dealerships. They lived in a six-bedroom mansion in Del Mar, where the Pacific was the backyard and the driveway had its own gate code.

Josh Sykes, lankier and louder, patrolled center field and hit moonshots. He led the Pac-12 in home runs and sat third in the nation. While Tyler got on base, Josh brought him home.

But Josh’s roots were humbler. His dad fixed truck engines. His mom sold houses. Their condo near Old Town had a view of the parking lot. He didn’t mind. He had a swing scouts drooled over.

Madison, Tyler’s girlfriend, was technically supposed to be studying law, a curriculum her father pushed, hoping she’d join his practice. She laughed every time he said it.

In reality, Madison thought of herself as a future model. Blonde, leggy, reckless – she breezed through life on looks and her father’s money. School was optional; fidelity was negotiable.

Hailey was the outlier: a piano prodigy studying for her doctorate in music. She’d grown up in a cramped apartment with her alcoholic mother and no idea who her father was. Hailey worried about her when she was back at college, half-expecting to come home at anytime only to find her mother dead on the couch.

The invitation to fly with Madison had startled her. She wasn’t eager to leave her mother alone, but she had errands back on campus, and you don’t exactly turn down a private jet. When she left, her mother was passed out.. on the couch.

Josh and Hailey were more study buddies than couple. She’d been hired to tutor him. A few dates, nothing serious. Hailey was focused. Josh…not so much.

Now they tore across the desert, the smell of beer, weed, and Hailey’s lavender lotion clashing in the warm cabin. Outside, clouds stacked high and black like incoming judgment. They passed a highway sign: Stay Alert, Stay Alive.

Tyler had a Tecate between his legs and a grin on his face. Eighty-five miles an hour. Life was good. His hands wandered beneath Madison’s unbuttoned blouse while she whispered and giggled in his ear.

Josh slumped in the backseat, rolled a joint, and took a long hit. A cooler sat between him and Hailey. He was already high, laughing loudly and off-key. Every few minutes he peeked forward to watch Tyler cop a feel. Madison caught him once and scowled hard enough he winced. Josh dreamed about having a girl liked Madison – but she made his feel so small, especially since she caught him looking.

Hailey had earbuds in, classical piano drowning out the chaos. She stared out the window, wishing she were anywhere else. She’d already decided: this trip was a mistake. Her relationship with Josh—over. Tutoring days—done. Madison’s dramatics, Tyler’s cockiness—none of it had a place in her life anymore. From now on: her music. Only music.

“Hey, Josh,” Tyler called, glancing in the mirror. “Let me get a hit of that.”

Josh extended the joint, then yanked it back. “Gotcha!” he cackled.

Tyler’s grin vanished. “Give it here, or I’ll make your skinny ass walk home.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Madison said.

That stung Josh more than he expected.

He looked at her.

Then at the glowing ember between his fingers.

And that’s when he made the biggest mistake of his life.