Fourth and Goal



Disclaimers: This story in mine. The characters, although they may bear a resemblance to some ladies we know and love, are mine. This story is futuristic, so I have taken a few liberties with the way things are and how they work.

Language: Most definitely because I cuss like a sailor so of course some of my characters do to.

Violence: There is some of that as well. This is a story about football and it is a dangerous sport. There is also mention of domestic violence, which I do not condone but is a part of real life. I do not go into gruesome detail out of respect for those who have been through and are living through it.

Sex: Yep and lots of it. If this is not your cup of tea then run, don’t walk, to another story. (kidding) This story contains details of two women in a loving relationship and if you are not 18 and /or think this is wrong then don’t ever read anything I write.

Feedback: I would love to hear from you. You can email me at Let me know what you thought of this story.

Special thanks: First, I would like to thank the ladies at Da Playground. You have been an encouraging force in my attempts at writing. Thank you for being patient and not giving up on me when the updates were few and far between.

Thanks Okie, for slapping the back of my head when I screw up. ;)

Thanks Peaches for giving me the encouragement needed to take that major step into posting my work. Your belief in me is why I am here today. Muchos Gracias Mi Amiga.

Dedication: I dedicate this story to the woman who owns my heart. I know you are out there. Hold on, I’m coming.






Chapter One

It was second and goal for the Jacksonville Jaguars. Late in the third quarter, the score was tied 21 to 21. Eriksson Stadium was standing up on end and the sold out crowd was screaming wildly for their Panthers to stop the Jags from scoring. Some of the more 'seasoned', oh hell let's call them what they are, older fans were trying to revive the wave. After receiving snickers and jeers, the younger fans decided to chant a name that was sure to become a member of the Hall of Fame. "Rock, Rock, Rock!" The frenzied crowd began to scream.


The Sunday afternoon was a cold one. The sun was almost below the horizon, not that it provided a great source of heat in the late October day. The temperature was in the low 30’s and the breeze made it seem even colder. Eriksson was one of the few NFL stadiums that did not have a dome. The owners felt that domes took something away from the ‘real football experience’.

Valeria Rockwell was sitting on the bench, nursing a hangover and attempting to recover from a night of wild sex with a woman whose name she couldn't recall. Rock was six feet two inches tall, 225 pounds of solid muscle. Short wavy jet-black hair was slicked back, and photogenic Mediterranean good looks were revealed to the enjoyment of her fans. Ice blue eyes were hidden behind her NFL modified Ray-Bans.

"Goddess, please make them stop chanting my name. I do NOT want to go out there again," she begged the cloudless sky, hoping someone would listen. Rock was exhausted after participating in many of the defensive plays. She hoped that the lead they had earlier would allow her to sit the rest of the game out. When the offense fumbled, and the Jags scored she had a feeling that she would have to return. "If you do this, I won't ever indulge before a game again."

"Rock, get your ass off that bench and get over here, now!" Coach McNamara yelled.

"You knew I was lying didn't ya, Goddess?" she asked, moaning as she stood up.




"This is a stupid game," Caitlin yelled, hoping that her friend Milli heard her.

Milli did hear her. She pushed brown strands of hair away from her face, brown eyes looking around. "Shush. Do you want us to get killed? There are 89,000 screaming fans here who would beg to differ!" she yelled back. "I don't care for the game either, but a lot of those players have some nice asses."

"You, my dear friend, are an oversexed pervert. We're freezing our asses off to look at the players’ asses?" she asked. "I'm going home. We could have watched it on TV," Caitlin ranted as she stood to leave.

Milli pulled her back into her seat. "I paid 300 dollars for these seats and we are staying," she said forcefully. The chant for Rock began and she added her voice to it. "Rock, Rock, Rock!"

Caitlin looked around and wondered what all the fuss was about. "Who is this Rock everyone is screaming about?"

Milli shook her head in disbelief. "Only the most intimidating and effective middle linebacker in the NFL." She looked at her friend. "Where you been girl, in a cave?"

Caitlin scoffed, shaking reddish blonde hair from her eyes. "I do not follow this game, nor do I like..." Her voice trailed off as gray eyes fell upon the most beautiful creature walking the planet. "The Rock?" she breathed as she pointed at Carolina Panthers number 69.

"The Rock," Milli said smugly, catching the look on her dear friend's face. "You still want to go home?" she teased.

"Uh, no, no I don't," Caitlin softly said. She studied the imposing woman, noting her thin waist and bronzed skin. She stood and walked over to the railing, gazing at a slice of Heaven on Earth. She’s got a cute butt, nice and round. She couldn’t stop the smile that formed on her face.

Rock stopped and turned toward the stands, pulling her Ray-bans down a little. She saw a petite blonde looking directly at her. Rock felt a lump form in her throat as the little woman smiled at her. Damn, she’s kinda cute. Nice rack, too. The coach’s booming voice pulled her from her reverie. She returned the young woman’s smile with a flash of pearly white teeth and then ran over to the coach.

"Glad you could join us, Rock," he said sarcastically. "Run an Undercover Blitz," Coach instructed, patting her ass as he sent her on to the field. "Shit!" Sloan, the Offensive Left Tackle for the Jags hissed, "The dyke's coming in."

"Never mind her," Greenfield, the Jags Quarterback, yelled at Sloan and slapped him on his helmet. "Pay attention to the game. What is it with you and her anyway?"

Sloan said nothing. He was too embarrassed to let anyone know that when Rock was a rookie, she bedded his wife when the Panthers played against the Jags in Florida. The memory flashed in his mind.


Sloan knew that his wife would be pissed at him for trying to creep in at four o'clock in the morning. She was already angry because he went to the after parties without her. He knew he couldn't get any new pussy with her at his side.

It was quiet as Sloan opened the door to his house. He eased the door closed, then quietly made his way up the stairs. When he reached his bedroom door, he could hear moaning. 'Damn sure glad she's taking care of it herself. I don't think my dick can get hard any more tonight,' he thought as he snickered. Pushing the door open as softly as he could, the sight before him nearly made his heart stop.

In his bed, thrusting into his wife was Valeria Rockwell. Rock, acutely aware of her surroundings at all times, heard the door as it slowly opened. Looking up into the mirrored headboard, she could see Miriam Sloan's husband standing in the doorway with his mouth agape. A feral grin crossed her lips. 'Guess I'll give this asshole a show,' she mused. "Is it good, Miri?" Rock grunted as she thrust the phallus deep inside.

"Yesss," Miriam hissed, wrapping her legs around Rock. "Harder, baby. Fuck me."

"Oh yeah, baby," Rock said as she thrust harder and faster. She handled her strap-on as well as any man could handle his penis. "Whose pussy is this?" she asked, taunting Sloan.

"Yours, Rock. Anytime, anyplace," Miriam moaned her response.

"What the fuck are you doing to my wife?" Sloan angrily demanded. His feet seemed to be rooted in the spot by the doorway.

Rock and Miriam were too close to orgasm to give a damn who saw them. Miriam screamed Rock's name as she came, while Rock grunted and hissed through her orgasm. Once she finished, she pulled out of Miriam's soaked pussy with a resounding pop. Rock then got off the bed and stood before the dumbfounded Sloan. Miriam pulled the sheet over her naked and glistening body with a smirk on her face.

"Get out of my house you two-timing bitch," Sloan spat as he moved toward the bed.

Rock stood in front of him. Sloan shoved her, and then she shoved him back, knocking him to the floor. He quickly made it to his feet and charged her. She side stepped him and gave him a blow to the side of his head just behind his ear, knocking him down to his knees.

Sloan felt as if the room was spinning. The blow to his head caused his equilibrium to be thrown off. Rock pulled the condom off her strap on, throwing it at his feet. She then removed the strap on, placed it in her bag and proceeded to get dressed.

Miriam sat on the side of the bed with the sheet wrapped around her. "How dare you call me a two timing bitch?" she angrily hissed. "I saw you, Mike. I saw you letting some teenager suck your dick while you ate another girl's pussy," she tearfully said as she went to stand over him. "You're a sick, perverted little man, fucking girls barely out of their teens." She leaned down, barely inches from his face. "I can smell them, you know. I could always smell them."

Rock watched Miriam while she dressed. Miriam had approached her and told her of her dilemma. Not being one to turn down sex, Rock happily obliged.

"If you want a divorce, you can have it. I don't care anymore," Miriam continued. "But know this, every newspaper in the country will know why. I'll tell them about your escapades. How you had to have young girls because you couldn't handle a real woman. Then I'll tell them that I had to turn to Rock because you couldn't satisfy my needs."

Sloan couldn’t believe his ears. His meek wife was giving him an ultimatum. "What do you want to do?" he humbly asked.

Miriam turned to a fully dressed Rock. She mouthed the words 'Thank you' and 'Call me'. Rock gave her a smile and a wink, picked up her bag and left.


The two teams lined up at the seven-yard line. It was now third and goal and the Jags wanted to score badly to shut up the thunderous crowd.

"Hey Butch, how's it hanging?" Sloan asked Rock, taunting her.

She sneered at him, cupping her crotch and tugging. "Lower than yours. How are your wife and my kids?"

Players from both teams chuckled. Sloan's face turned a new shade of purple. "You’re gonna pay for that one, bitch," he muttered under his breath.

She looked at Greenfield and saw fear in his eyes. She gave him a menacing grin. "I'm gonna drive your dick in the dirt, Greenfield."

He looked panic-stricken. Greenfield knew too well how it felt to be run over by the Rock. He was still nursing the bruised ribs she gave him in their previous meeting.

The Panthers lined up in Prevent formation.

"Down!" Greenfield yelled. His players could barely hear him over the screaming fans.

Rock was moving back and forth like a caged animal. When Greenfield began his count, she yelled, "Switch!" The Panthers moved from their Red Line Prevent to Blitz. It was too late for Greenfield to call an Audible, and he knew he was screwed.

He took the ball from the center, and before he could step back to scan the field for his receivers Rock was all over him. She hit him hard in his midsection, forcing him to drop the ball. Rock scooped the ball up and took off down the field with Sloan dead on her heels.

89,000 screaming fans were once again calling the Rock's name.

I shouldn't have fucked her that third time, Rock berated herself. Now I'm a couple of steps too slow. This asshole might catch me.

You're mine now, you fucking bitch. Get ready for a real hurting, Sloan thought to himself, snarling. Anger induced adrenaline gave him a second wind as he began to close in on Rock.

Aside from the fact her head was pounding, she could hear her opponent gaining ground on her. The announcer was screaming her progress over the PA system. "She's at the 50, the 40, the 30..."

I wish that moron would shut the hell up, she groaned to herself.

"You're mine, bitch!" Sloan growled. With a roar, he launched himself like a missile, spearing Rock in the middle of her back with his helmet.

"Shit!" she yelled. Rock felt the snap immediately. She had made it as far as the ten-yard line. Her momentum carried her across the goal line.

"Touchdown!" the announcer yelled. The crowd went wild.

Every fan in the stadium was up screaming and chanting for Rock, including Caitlin. After a few moments, the crowd began to grow quiet because Rock was still down.




"Why is she still on the ground?" Caitlin turned to ask Milli.

"I don't know," she said. "That brute probably knocked the wind out of her."

"Oh, I see," Caitlin whispered. Uneasiness washed over her. She walked closer to the railing, small hands grasping it as she leaned out slightly, so she could get a better view of the end zone. "Get up, Rock," she whispered.


"I told you, paybacks are a bitch," Sloan growled in Rock's ear.

"Fuck you," she angrily hissed.

Jarrod Buckner, her teammate and best friend, ran over to her. "Rock, are you ok?"

"Don’t touch me, JB," she groaned. "Something’s wrong."

JB waved the trainer over to them. Then his attention went to Sloan, who was standing a few feet away from them with a smug look on his face. Sloan realized that he was being watched and started to head back down the field, to the safety of his teammates. He wanted no part of Jarrod Buckner; the African-American man was 6’6" tall and weighed 300 pounds. Before he could get away, JB was in his face.

"What the fuck did you do to her, asshole?" JB demanded as he shoved Sloan’s shoulder.

"I did what I was supposed to do... try to stop her from getting into the end zone," he yelled.

JB grabbed him by the Velcro of his shoulder pads. "If she’s hurt bad, I swear I’ll kick your sorry ass."

By this time the players from both sides stepped in to break up the scuffle. When JB calmed down, he saw that the team doctor and the cart were on the field next to Rock.

"Be careful with her neck, and don’t move her until I say so," Doctor Hayes instructed. "I’m going to remove her helmet." He unsnapped her chinstrap and carefully slid her helmet off. "Be very still, Rock. I’m gonna take this off."

"I can’t feel my legs, Doc," she whispered.

"I know, Rock. Just take it easy," he said as he removed her helmet. "Okay, guys. Get the backboard over here," he ordered the attendants. They quickly placed the board beside Rock’s right side. The doctor placed one of his assistants at Rock’s head, while the other was at her feet. "Turn her slowly, and keep her neck stabilized. We’re going to do this on three. One... Two... Three." Rock’s neck and body were kept straight as she was turned and placed on the board.


"She’s hurt, Milli. It looks pretty bad," Caitlin said.

Milli, along with the other fans, stood quietly as Rock was taken off the field. "Yeah it does." She paused thoughtfully. "Usually when players are carried off the field, they do something to let everyone know that they’re ok."

"Oh, goddess. She hasn’t done anything like that," Caitlin gasped.


"Rock?" The doctor whispered close to her ear. "You have to give your teammates a sign of some sort. If you don’t, they won’t be able to concentrate on the game." He knew it sounded insensitive, but that was something the players knew they had to do.

"Yeah, I kinda zoned out there for a minute," she moaned. Rock lifted her right arm and gave the thumbs up sign. The stadium thundered with applause.

"She’s ok. Thank you, goddess," Caitlin whispered with her hands clasped.

"Are we taking her to X-ray, Doc?" The assistant asked as they rolled Rock down the tunnel.

"No, we’re taking her straight to Carolinas Medical Center," The doctor told him, a worried look crossed his face.


Caitlin and Millie slowly made their way toward the exits, pushing along with the throngs of people. "That was a great game," Milli said to her friend, who was quiet through the rest of the game.

"Yeah, it was," Caitlin offered in acknowledgement. "I wonder how Rock is."

Placing an arm around her friend, she whispered, "I’m sure she’s okay. She gave the sign." Trying to lighten the moment, she talked about the fourth quarter. "Did you see the way they played? It was like they became possessed. They scored three more touchdowns, and the defense sacked Greenfield after every snap. It was incredible."

A young man ran up to their crowd, a digital phone in hand. "Did you hear the news? They took Rock to the hospital. They say she’s paralyzed." The murmur of voices in the crowd rose in volume as they heard the news.

Caitlin gasped, eyes wide. "Oh goddess, no," she whispered.




Chapter 2


At Carolinas Medical Center, two doctors were studying Rock’s digital x-rays. Dr. Andrews was a man in his mid fifties and suffered from The God Complex. In his mind, he could do no wrong. Dr. Davis, one year out of his residency, hated working with Dr. Andrews. Arrogant asshole. It’s a wonder his patients don’t sue his ass. He takes too many chances, Dr. Davis thought to himself.

"These bones here," Dr. Andrews pointed at the digital x-ray, "The last four of the thoracic spine are putting pressure on her spinal cord. I suggest that we do a laminectomy to relieve the pressure, and then we can see how much damage is done to the cord itself."

Dr. Davis agreed. "That would be best. Fortunately for her, her genetic enhancements protected her from further damage. A lesser woman or man for that matter would have a crushed spinal column."

"First thing tomorrow morning, then," Dr. Andrews stated as he stood up to remove his lab coat.

Dr. Davis was stunned. "Tomorrow morning? We should take care of this now. Waiting could cause further damage to the nerve and surrounding tissue."

Andrews scoffed, "I’ve been practicing medicine longer than you have. She’ll be fine."

"But, we should at least..." Davis stopped; realizing that arguing with the arrogant doctor would do no good.

"See you tomorrow morning. I have dinner guests waiting for me at home." After saying that, Dr. Andrews left.

"Damn him and his so called expertise," Dr. Davis muttered to himself.




Rock woke up to her grandmother’s face inches from her own.

"So you finally woke up," Rock’s grandmother said softly.

"Gram, you did make it to the game!" Rock said as she smiled at her grandmother. She had been a little concerned when the elderly woman hadn’t shown up at her condo. "I didn’t think you made it."

"Got held up in traffic, Squirt," she said as she ruffled Rock’s hair. "So, how are you feeling?" she asked in a more somber tone.

"I can’t feel my legs, Gram," Rock replied softly.

"Don’t worry about a thing, Squirt. Gram’s gonna take care of everything." She kissed Rock’s cheek and sat in the chair next to Rock‘s bed. "I called Spencer Taylor and he’s on his way."

"How’d you manage that?" Rock asked. She was amazed at what her grandmother could do, and the connections she had. Spencer Taylor was the top neurosurgeon in the country.

"I got it like that," she said.

Rock grimaced. "They don’t say that anymore, Gram."

"Whatever." Gram laughed in her deep contralto voice.


The laughter coming from the treatment room caused one of the nurses to go and see what all the laughing was about.

"What’s going on in here?" she demanded. "This is a hospital, not a comedy club." She looked to the elderly woman sitting next to her patient’s bed. "Why are you disturbing this young woman? Get out of here before I call security," she told her.

"Hold on," Rock intervened. "This is my grandmother."

The nurse looked at her like she was out of her mind. She studied the elderly woman, noticing that she was African-American. Then she looked at Rock, and could see nothing that would indicate that she was. "That’s impossible," she scoffed.

The elderly woman stood to her full height of 5 feet 11 inches. She tossed the snow-white ponytail that was draped over her shoulder off to fall down her back. "My name is Johnetta Green, and this is my granddaughter, Valeria," she growled. "Now if you will excuse us, we’d like to continue our conversation in private."

"I...I’m sorry. I didn’t know," the nurse stammered as she backed her way out of the treatment room. The tall elderly woman looked as if she knew how to use that cane for something besides walking.

Johnnie walked away from Rock‘s bedside to the supply cabinets and leaned on the counter, her anger causing her to shake.


"You did what?" Alma yelled at her daughter and son-in-law. "How could you let this happen, Nadina?"

"It’s not her fault, Alma," Michael Rockwell said quietly. "My family insisted that we handle it this way."

Alma glared at him. "So they tell you to do this, and you do it. They tell you to just completely obliterate part of Nadina’s DNA, and you go along with it?" She turned to her daughter. "How could you agree to this?"

"Mami, I had to," Nadina told her, holding her head down in shame. "They wouldn’t have given Michael permission otherwise." She turned to Johnnie. "Mama, I’m so sorry. We want children and this was the only way," she tearfully told her.

Johnnie sat in silence. She couldn’t believe that the baby her daughter was carrying would have none of her features, nothing that was of her heritage.

"Nadina, I never thought that I would say this, but I am ashamed of you," Alma yelled. "Michael, are you so weak that you would allow your family to do this to your wife and her family?"

"Alma, don’t." Johnnie stood and walked over to Alma. "I don’t want to lose my child over this." She looked deeply into her wife‘s eyes. "We’ve lost one, let’s not lose another."

Nadina walked hesitantly over to her parents. "I’m sorry I hurt you, Mama." She reached over and touched Johnnie’s strong shoulder.

Johnnie touched her daughter’s hand. "It’s gonna be okay, baby." She kissed her forehead. Desperately holding back her tears, she excused herself. "I’m going downstairs. Don’t hold dinner for me." She quickly headed for the basement. Johnnie heard Alma tell their daughter that she had hurt them more than they could ever imagine.


"Gram," Rock called. When her grandmother didn’t respond, she called her again.

Johnnie was startled out of her reverie. "I’m sorry, Squirt. What is it?" she asked as she wiped a tear from her eye.

"What are you thinking about?" Rock asked, even though she had a feeling about what it was.

Johnnie smiled at her. "I was thinking about your Abuela." Not completely a lie.

"I miss her, too, Gram," Rock said. "That lady was something else." She paused. "She had you wrapped around her finger."

"Like you weren’t," Johnnie laughed.

"What Abuela wanted, Abuela got," they said in unison.

Rock took on a serious tone. "Why do Dad and his family hate you, Gram?"

Johnnie sat by Rock’s bedside and took her hand. She regretted having to finally tell her beloved granddaughter of the family rift. She kept it short and to the point. "They hate me because of something that happened a long time ago when I was still a private investigator. Seems that I played a part in the downfall of one of their family members that was involved in organized crime. They insisted that no part of me would be a part of their family." She sighed heavily. "That was in the past."

"Mom and Dad will be here tomorrow. You’re staying, right?" Rock asked. She knew how much animosity there was between her father and her beloved grandmother. Rock had seen them nearly come to blows on many occasions. If it wasn’t for the fact that her father worshiped the ground her mother walked on, she believed that her grandmother would have shot him.

"I’ll be here as long as you need me," Johnnie said as she kissed Rock’s hand.


Dr. Davis came into the treatment room to give Rock the news of her injuries. He remembered Rock from college and had continued to follow her football career. They attended Duke University together, though he was two years ahead of her. Davis acknowledged Johnnie, and then turned his attention to Rock. He told her the diagnosis, the plan for treatment and who would be performing the surgery.

Johnnie could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "Clayton Andrews?" she asked incredulously. "Hell no, not that backwater butcher. I wouldn’t let him remove a splinter from by grandbaby’s ass." It’s his fault I have to use this damned cane.

Rock laughed at her grandmother’s statement.

Dr. Davis couldn’t contain his own laughter. Finally, I found somebody with a spine who’s not afraid of Andrews, he thought. "Did you have someone else in mind?" he asked the irate woman.

"Spencer Taylor will be here first thing in the morning," she said as she reigned in her temper. "He’ll do whatever has to be done."

"I did my residency under Dr. Taylor. He’s an excellent surgeon," Davis said thoughtfully. "The best in the field." He paused. "If you don’t mind my asking, how did you convince him to come here for your granddaughter?"

Johnnie smiled. "I got skills."

"Aww, Gram," Rock moaned.

"What? They don’t say that anymore either, eh?" Johnnie asked.

"No!" both Rock and Dr. Davis answered.




Caitlin sat alone in her den, watching the sports news channel.

"Carolina Panthers middle linebacker, Valeria Rockwell, was injured in today’s game against the Jacksonville Jaguars. She took a vicious hit from the Jags’ Mike Sloan. NFL officials are reviewing the tape, and if it’s found that Sloan intentionally sought to hurt Rockwell, then Sloan will be banned from playing in the NFL for life," the reporter stated.

Caitlin quickly turned off her television. I hope they hang that asshole out to dry, she thought.

After a small meal, which was unusual for her, she worked on her reports for her Monday morning meeting. Once disposing of them, she decided to make a trip to the hospital. I’ll just go and see for myself if she’s ok, Caitlin decided.




Johnnie sat in a dark corner of Rock’s private room watching her sleep peacefully. The door opened and a small blonde came in. She walked softly over to Rock’s bedside. Johnnie had lifted her cane, and was going to throttle the intruder with it, but she was halted by what felt like a hand on her shoulder. In her subconscious she could hear Alma’s voice. "Wait, Querida, and watch." Johnnie sat back and did as Alma’s voice said.


Caitlin looked at Rock’s face, taking in her strong features. "You are so beautiful," she whispered. She couldn’t resist touching the sleeping woman.

Rock seemed to lean into Caitlin’s touch and unconsciously whispered, "Mi, amor."

Rock’s deep voice startled Caitlin and she pulled away, leaving the room as quietly as she had entered it.

So she’s the one to finally tame that wildcat, Johnnie thought. Even in her sleep she can feel it.


After a few moments, Johnnie walked out to the nurses’ station. "Excuse me."

The young nurse looked up at her and smiled. "How may I help you?"

"There was a young woman who came into my granddaughter’s room a few minutes ago. Did you see her?" Johnnie inquired.

The nurse thought for a moment. "Oh yes, I saw her. Her name is Caitlin O’Hara. She’s a physical therapist at the Charlotte Institute of Rehabilitation."

Johnnie smiled. "Thank you." She walked back toward Rock’s room.


"Gram, where did you wander off to?" Rock asked sleepily.

"Just needed to stretch my legs," Johnnie said. "Did you know that you still talk in your sleep? In Spanish, no less."

Rock arched her eyebrow. "I do not."

Johnnie’s eyebrow arched in response. "Yes you do." She walked back over to the recliner and leaned back. "Now go back to sleep. Your teammates will be here first thing in the morning. JB has already called ten times."

How can you still make me feel like I‘m ten years old? Rock silently wondered. "Yes, Gram."




Flight 109 from Mykonos, Greece was just on approach to JFK. Nadina Rockwell stared out the window, taking in the New York skyline. She was a very beautiful woman, wearing the heritage of both her parents proudly. Nadina’s complexion was a deep mocha. Her skin was flawless, as smooth as silk; her hair was a wavy dark brown with streaks of gray running throughout. Nadina’s eyes were brown, deep and intense, just like Johnnie‘s.

She was full of worry for her only daughter. Headstrong and stubborn, just like Mama, she mused. High tempered, just like Mami. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she felt deep in her spirit that her baby would be fine.

Michael Rockwell was a very handsome man, with tanned skin and strong chiseled features. His salt and pepper hair and beard gave him a distinguished look. He looked up from company reports and saw his wife wiping a tear from her cheek. "Are you alright, Nadina?" he asked, taking her small hand into his larger one.

She looked at him, her eyes full of love. "I was just thinking about Vali," she said softly.

"Vali will be just fine," he assured her. "She’s a strong one."

Nadina sighed. "You know my mother will be there. Please, for my sake, don’t fight with her. Besides, it will upset Vali if you do."

"Alright," he conceded, "I won’t fight with Johnnie." I hope.



Caitlin walked quickly into her apartment. She threw her keys on the table as she sat down on the sofa. She replayed what had happened in Rock’s room over and over in her mind. What was it she said…Mi amor? That’s Spanish. Why did I study French? Damn it! Wait. Milli speaks Spanish. She leaned over and grasped the phone.


Milli and her boyfriend Josh were making out on Milli’s bed when the phone rang.

"Ignore it," Josh huskily said as he kissed Milli’s neck.

"Can’t," Milli rasped. "It could be a client." She pulled herself away from him to answer the phone. "Hello," She answered breathlessly.

"Eww, please don’t tell me you were doing it?" Caitlin asked. Milli was notorious for answering her phone during sex.

"If you had called a couple of minutes later I would have been," she laughed. "What’s up?"

"Uh, could you tell me what ‘Mi amor’ means?" Caitlin asked.

"What?!" Milli asked in a huff. "You called and interrupted me for that?"

Caitlin swallowed her embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. So what does it mean?"

"It means ‘my love’." Milli became curious. "Why? Did some little chica say that to you?"

"What’s a chica?" she asked.

"Oh, never mind. Is that all?" Milli was in a rush to get back to Josh.

"Yeah, and sorry for the interruption. Get back to whatever it was that you were doing," Caitlin teased.

"Will do," Milli giggled. "Nite."

"Goodnight, pervert," Caitlin said.




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