Chapter 9

Ethan’s journey west began with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The Land Cruiser was packed with everything he would need for his new life at Stanford—clothes, books, his laptop, and a few personal mementos from home and a locked trunk full of things it was better people didn’t know he had. As he drove away from his childhood home, he couldn’t help but reflect on how much his life had changed over the past year. Breakups, friendships, intense training, and life lessons had all shaped him into the man he was becoming. Now, he was ready to start a new chapter.

By the second day of his trip, Ethan headed through Memphis and was just about to leave city limits, when something caught his attention, a thick column of black smoke rising into the sky. As he got closer, he saw flames exploding out of the windows on the top floor of an apartment building. Without a second thought, he pulled over, jumping out of his vehicle to assess the situation.

People were roaming the street in confusion and hysteria, many in shock as they watched their homes being consumed by fire. A few onlookers were helping those who had managed to escape, but panic was evident in their eyes. Ethan quickly moved to assist, helping guide people away from the burning structure, ensuring they were at a safe distance.

Then, amidst the chaos, a desperate scream cut through the air.

“Help! My babies! My babies are still inside!”

Ethan turned to see a frantic woman, her face streaked with tears, pointing toward the building. He rushed over, trying to get her to step back, but she clutched his arm with a vice-like grip.

“They’re in our apartment! Third floor, apartment 312!” she sobbed. “Please, someone help them!”

Ethan looked around, the fire department hadn’t arrived yet. He knew that in a fire, every second counted and without wasting another moment, he acted.

“Stay here,” he told the woman firmly before sprinting to his car. He grabbed his water bottle and a shirt that he had spilled mustard on during lunch, soaking it thoroughly before wrapping it around his head as a makeshift filter. Then, taking a deep breath, he charged into the burning building.

Inside, the smoke was thick and suffocating. He kept low, recalling his training on fire safety, stay near the ground where the air was clearer. The heat was unbearable as he climbed the stairs, and the crackling of the flames was deafening as they consumed the walls and ceiling.

Reaching the third floor was a struggle; the stairwell was filled with smoke, reducing visibility to almost nothing. He could barely see his own hands, but he counted the doors as he moved forward, trying to find apartment 312. Finally, he spotted it and pounded on the door.

“Hey! Open the door! Your mommy sent me here to help!”

A muffled cry came from inside. The door was locked.

Wasting no time, Ethan stepped back and delivered a powerful kick next to the doorknob. The wooden frame splintered under the force, and the door flew open. Inside, he found a young boy, no older than five, curled up near the couch, sobbing. The child looked up at Ethan with terrified eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Ethan said in a calm voice, kneeling beside him. “Let’s get you out of here. Where’s your sister?”

The boy pointed toward a closet. Ethan moved quickly, pulling the door open to reveal a little girl, barely three years old, hiding in the corner. She whimpered when she saw him, pressing herself against the back wall in fear.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Ethan soothed. “We’re going on an adventure, alright?!”

The boy sniffled as Ethan lifted him onto his back. Not trusting the boys grip Ethan rips a cord out of the wall and a lamp, tying it around himself and the boy while carrying the girl in his arms. The smoke was worsening, making it harder to breathe, and flames were licking at the walls outside the apartment. Time was running out.

With his lungs burning, Ethan rushed toward the stairwell, which was now partially engulfed in flames. He pulled the damp shirt tighter over his nose and mouth, shielding the children as best as he could while descending the stairs as quickly as possible. Each breath felt like inhaling fire, and his vision blurred, but he forced himself to push forward.

Then, finally, the front doors loomed ahead. With a final burst of energy, he charged outside, gasping for fresh air.

As soon as he emerged, firefighters and paramedics swarmed him. Hands reached out, loosening the cord around his chest and taking the children from him and checking them for injuries. The mother ran forward, grabbing her kids in a tight embrace, sobbing uncontrollably. Then, without warning, she turned to Ethan and threw her arms around him, kissing his face in gratitude.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” she cried. “I don’t know what I would have done if...” She choked on her words, unable to finish her sentence.

Ethan gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “They’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

As firefighters battled the blaze, the news took a tragic turn. It looked like the fire had originated from a third-floor apartment where an elderly couple had been smoking in bed. One of them had likely fallen asleep with a lit cigarette, and the resulting flames had spread rapidly. Their bodies were later found inside.

Ethan stayed long enough to give a brief statement to the police. He answered their questions as best he could, but when an officer turned away momentarily to keep some kids from getting too close, Ethan took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

Sliding into the driver’s seat of his Land Cruiser, he pulled away from the chaotic scene, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. His heart was still pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

As he Memphis, Ethan took a deep breath and whispered a quiet prayer of thanks. He was grateful he had been there in time. He had seen the love and relief in that mother’s eyes—an emotion so raw and powerful that it left an imprint on his soul.

Thinking about his own parents, Ethan realized he couldn’t fathom the pain of losing loved ones like that. He knew that protecting others was an intrinsic part of who he was, and today had only reinforced that belief.

With a final glance at the cityscape in his rearview mirror, Ethan pressed forward toward California and the next chapter of his life.

Ethan drove steadily westward, his journey stretching out before him like an open road of possibility. He took his time, stopping whenever something piqued his curiosity. His first major stop was in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where he visited the Arkansas Air and Military Museum. Walking through the massive hangar filled with vintage aircraft, military jeeps, and wartime memorabilia, he couldn’t help but appreciate the history of aviation and warfare. It fascinated him how much strategy and precision had shaped battles over the years.

After spending hours admiring the exhibits, he got back on the road, crossing into Oklahoma. His next destination was Sequoyah’s Cabin, an important piece of Native American history. When he arrived, he was amused to find that the original log cabin was encased inside a larger protective structure. It was a testament to the Cherokee scholar Sequoyah’s legacy, and Ethan took his time reading about how the man had created a written language for his people. It reminded him of his love for languages, reinforcing his decision to study them at Stanford.

Oklahoma City was his next stop, and he made a point to visit the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. Walking through the vast halls lined with artifacts, paintings, and statues, he was enthralled by the rugged history of the American West. The stories of cowboys, Native American tribes, and early settlers painted a vivid picture of exploration and hardship. As he stood before the iconic End of the Trail statue, a melancholic depiction of a weary Native American warrior slumped over his horse, he reflected on the relentless march of time and history.

Leaving Oklahoma behind, he entered Texas, stopping for a couple of days in Amarillo. It was here that he found himself at a honky-tonk dance hall one evening, drawn in by the lively music and the sound of boots scuffing against wooden floors. He nursed a coke at the bar, watching couples spin and twirl in perfect rhythm on the dance floor.

“Hey, stranger, you look like you need a dance partner,” a sultry voice said from beside him.

Ethan turned to see Annabelle, a stunning Texas beauty with long, wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a short blue jean skirt that showed off her toned legs, a plaid shirt tied beneath her ample bosom, a pair of black cowboy boots accentuated her smooth thighs.

“I’d love to, but I don’t exactly know how to two-step,” Ethan admitted.

Annabelle grinned. “Lucky for you, I’m a patient teacher.”

She grabbed his hand, leading him onto the dance floor. The band started up a classic country tune, and Annabelle positioned him with confident ease. “It’s simple,” she instructed. “Step, step, quick-quick.”

Ethan followed her lead, stepping in time with the music. At first, he was stiff, but Annabelle laughed and encouraged him to loosen up. Within a few songs, he was moving more naturally, his confidence growing. The warmth of Annabelle’s body close to his, the twinkle in her eye, and the electric energy between them made the moment unforgettable. They danced for hours, the night becoming a blur of music, laughter, and shared glances.

By the time the bar was closing, Annabelle pulled Ethan close. “Wanna come back to my place?” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

The night was warm with an unusual moisture, the kind that clung to skin like a second layer, making every movement a sensual slide against the humid air. Ethan, with his piercing gray eyes and black hair felt alive. His 6’3” frame moved with an easy grace, his very presence commanding attention as they got out of the car. The end of the evening with this vision of beauty holding great promise.

Annabelle’s ample chest rose and fell with each anticipatory breath, her wide hips swaying with a sultry rhythm that seemed to beckon Ethan closer. Her long, smooth legs were a testament to her love of dance, and as the night drew to a close, it was clear that they were both ready for a different kind of performance.

As they reached her front door, the tension between them was palpable. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, Annabelle’s lips were on Ethan’s, her hunger evident in the way her mouth moved against his, her tongue demanding entry. They fumbled with their clothes, the urgency to feel skin on skin leading to a tangle of limbs and laughter as they both stumbled, their bodies too eager to be patient.

Ethan’s hands found the hem of Annabelle’s skirt, undoing the snap and pulling it down over her hips, revealing the luscious curves that had been teasing him all night. Her breasts, encased in black lace, seemed to beg for his touch, but he had other plans. He dropped to his knees, his hands skimming down her sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her legs.

Annabelle’s fingers threaded through Ethan’s hair as he began his ascent, starting at her ankles, his lips leaving a trail of fire up her calves, behind her knees, and along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He could smell her arousal, a heady scent that made his already hard cock twitch with need. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, looking up at her flushed face, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.

With a wicked grin, Ethan buried his face between her legs, his tongue parting her folds and delving into her wetness. Annabelle’s moans filled the room, her fingers tightening in his hair as he lapped at her clit, bringing her to the brink of orgasm before slowing down, only to build her up again. He was relentless, his fingers joining his tongue, sliding in and out of her pussy, curling to hit that sweet spot that made her legs tremble.

Annabelle’s orgasms crashed over her in waves, each one more powerful than the last, her cries of pleasure echoing off the walls. But Ethan wasn’t done with her yet. He rose to his feet, his hands cupping her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples through the fabric of her bra. He kissed her deeply, letting her taste her own arousal on his lips, as he reached behind her to unclasp her bra, freeing her breasts.

His mouth moved to her chest, sucking and nipping at her nipples, each pull sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core. Annabelle’s hands were busy too, her fingers deftly undoing Ethan’s pants, freeing his impressive cock. She stroked him, her grip firm, and her movements earning her a low growl of approval from Ethan.