Chasing Time: Chasing Series, #2

By Tess St. John

Eager to start over and finally put her painful past behind her, Quinn Weldon moves to Texas to teach and be near her elderly grandparents. And it's a good thing she did, because they need help--whether they wish to admit it or not. NFL pro Andre Biel turns up in her classroom to discuss his nephew's grade, and she's instantly drawn to him. Problem is, she swore off athletes a long time ago.

 

After a disastrous engagement, Andre Biel's priorities are his family and getting into the NFL history books before it's time to hang up his cleats. Intrigued by Quinn, Dre struggles to keep his feelings for her neutral after they're repeatedly thrown together to help his nephew and her grandparents.

 

When tragedy strikes Quinn and her family, Dre comes to their rescue. But when he faces the fight of his life, will Quinn run to his side or allow the pain of her past to stop her from taking a chance on the man of her dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tess St. John
• Release date: May 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9780986220586

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Copyright

Chasing Time

(Chasing Series ~ Book 2)

Copyright 2024 Tess St. John

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Tess St. John.

Published by Tess St. John

Electronic Edition: May 2024

ISBN: 978-0-9862205-8-6

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organization or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To Mom and Dad, you are everywhere in these pages. To Mary, I do believe you will be with Leon again. And to Lyndi, Danny, Clint, and Jarrod, thank you for all the stories about MawMaw and PawPaw.

Special thanks to Ana, Deborah, Mimi, Judythe, and all those who’ve helped me with my writing. To my readers...thanks for always giving me a reason to continue to write!

CHASING TIME

The people you choose to surround yourself with can either help build you up or help break you...Choose wisely. ~ J.J. Watt

Prologue

Exhausted from football practice, Andre Biel yanked the chain hanging from the ceiling fan twice and reclined on the couch. The fan whirled to high, disbursing the cool A/C air. He relaxed his sore muscles. Even though he was a high school sophomore, he’d been pulled up to varsity, and the games and practices were kicking his ass. He continued to rush for more than a hundred yards a game although the bigger, older players hit harder—much harder.

His sister rushed into the room, I need a favor. You’re the only one who can help me, Dre. Her voice sounded slightly desperate, yet very excited. Not a good combination for sure. I met a guy, and I need you to help me convince Mom he’s a good guy before I introduce them.

Tracy’s straight black hair swayed halfway down her back as she paced the tiny living room. She darted glances at him, her eyes expectant and hopeful. Her emotions constantly ranged from happy, excited, and thrilled to depressed, sad, and miserable. Most girls at school acted the same way. They could never just be chill. People talked about teenage boys acting crazy because of hormones, and he knew his share of guys who’d done some dumb shit to get a girl’s attention, but from everything he’d witnessed, teenage girls were worse.

Why do you need my help? What’s wrong with him?

Nothing. He’s amazing. It’s only— She looked down. He’s a little older than I am.

How much?

He’s in college.

Forget it.

Please. There was that desperation again. I really like him. We met a couple of months ago at a party. Knox plays football for the University of Houston.

Knox Pinster?

Her face lit up. You’ve heard of him?

He ignored her excitement. What are you doing seeing a college guy? Why’s he interested in you?

When we met, he assumed I was in college. The third time we went out I told him I was seventeen and still in high school. By then he liked me so much it didn’t matter.

Dre didn’t ask what she’d done for the guy to be interested in her, afraid his sister would do almost anything to be noticed by an older guy. He ran a hand over his face. Knox has great technique. He rarely misses a tackle.

She beamed. I just know you two will hit it off.

Mom’s never going to let you go out with him.

She will if you vouch for him. Please.

Though he tried hard not to show it, he felt some bizarre, protective bullshit for his sister, and she could talk him into doing just about anything. He considered himself her protector, probably because she’d lived her life without a dad. He had, too, but she’d been five when Dad died and had memories of the man. Dre, a year and a half younger, remembered nothing about him. His only knowledge of his dad came from photos and stories told by Mom, Tracy, and other people who knew him.

Ready to refuse, he hesitated. If he and Knox became friends the guy might invite him to parties. Dre wouldn’t mind hanging out with some college girls and other players. See if he’s free tonight.

Thank you. She ran into the kitchen to grab the wireless phone. She constantly complained they needed cell phones, a luxury they couldn’t afford. His mom worked at one of the retirement homes in town and didn’t make enough to afford many extras. Tracy worked part-time at a supermarket, and Dre mowed their neighbors’ yards. What little they earned would never be enough to pay for cell phone bills every month.

Tracy eagerly darted back into the living room. He’ll pick you up in an hour.

~

Dre ate a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and had just stepped out of the shower when Tracy hollered, Knox is here. The door creaked open and slammed shut. He pulled on shorts, a t-shirt, and tied his sneakers.

He exited the front door and approached the street. The afternoon sun cast a shadow from the house to take up half the yard. This neighborhood didn’t have driveways, so everyone parked on the road or in their yard.

Tracy and Knox stood facing each other beside the open driver’s door of a shiny, black Mustang. His hands rested at her waist as they talked. At least six foot two and hair in cornrows, Knox probably weighed two hundred and twenty-five pounds. He towered over Tracy.

She giggled.

Dre rolled his eyes.

When she spotted him, Tracy said, Dre, this is Knox.

Hey, man, Knox called.

Dre nodded and walked around to the passenger door to duck inside. The immaculate racing-red interior smelled new.

Knox slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door. Tracy leaned down to look through the open window. Have fun, guys.

A rap song played on the radio as they took off.

Tracy make you do this? Knox asked.

Why are you hanging out with a high school girl?

Your sister’s hot, man. I don’t care how old she is.

The police might.

Knox chuckled. I’m not much older, nineteen.

You’re legal, she’s not. My mom is never going to approve. Tracy’s wasting your time and mine.

I’d never consider anything having to do with your sister a waste. His words and tone sounded defensive. Did he truly care for her? You’ll never believe what she made me do last Saturday night.

What lie had Tracy told his mother about where she’d been last Saturday night?

She spotted a homeless woman on the side of the road and made me drive through Jangles to buy her a meal.

Dre remembered the day Tracy got her license. Mom handed her five dollars and said, This is to buy a meal for anyone you see who is in need.

When Tracy argued they didn’t have enough money to do that, Mom said, Five dollars every so often is not going to break us. We must be charitable to others who have less than we do. Do you understand?

When Dre got his license, his mother said the same thing to him. Since he didn’t usually have a car to use because his mother worked so much, if Dre saw someone in need he’d ask whoever was driving to stop, and he’d buy the person food. His best friends, Kasey and Zack, now kept five dollars in their wallets for the same reason.

I mean, who does that? Your sister’s different.

Dre didn’t bother explaining why his sister bought the food. She’d clearly not mentioned Mom’s helping others’ speech. Where are we going?

Thought I’d show you around U of H. Knox sped onto the feeder road of Highway I-10 and stayed in the left lane to enter the on-ramp.

What’s your major? Dre crossed his arms.

I’m taking basics for now. The goal is professional football.

Dre stopped himself from shaking his head. Coach Banks often told them playing pro football was unlikely. Thousands dreamed of going pro, yet few, very few, actually made it. He made certain the players planned something else for their future to support themselves.

It seemed Knox hadn’t been taught this.

Nice car.

My dad’s.

The phone in the cup holder chimed. Knox reached down and grabbed it, then put it to his ear. Hello ... Sure, I’ll be right there. He put the phone down and took the off-ramp from the highway. We’ve gotta pick up my dad. He’s having car trouble.

Traffic was light for Houston, which still meant lots of cars, just no slowing down. Knox took turn after turn and pulled up in front of a skyscraper.

A man in dark slacks and a cream coat holding a large cardboard box hurried their way. He motioned with his head for Knox to pop the trunk. Dre opened his door, got out to flick the seat forward, and squeezed into the back.

After securing the trunk, the man righted the seat and got inside. Thanks for picking me up. My Beemer wouldn’t start.

A new Mustang and a BMW, the man must be loaded.

Knox eased back into traffic. Dad, this is Dre.

The man twisted in his seat and held out his hand. Mac Wallace. Call me Mac.

Curious why Mac and Knox didn’t have the same last name, Dre kept that question to himself and shook the man’s hand. Mac’s white smile brightened his dark features.

He’s Tracy’s brother, Knox explained.

Oh, she’s a darling girl.

Dre suspected his sister had downplayed her relationship with Knox, especially if she’d met his dad.

Take a left, Mac instructed.

I thought we were bringing you home. Knox put on his blinker.

I’ve got a bit of business to complete on the way. It’ll only take a second. Mac returned his gaze to Dre. Tracy tells me you’re a running back.

Yes, sir.

Mac tilted his head toward Knox and beamed with pride. A year ago I told Knox I was moving to Houston and couldn’t believe it when he decided to accept a scholarship from the University of Houston. If you ask me, I won the lottery to have my boy so close. Mac explained how they’d seldom seen each other because Knox lived in California with his mother after she and Mac parted ways when Knox turned two. Mac had moved a lot over the years and never lived close to Knox. He’s playing football and his grades are top notch. I’m so proud of him.

Dre never missed having a dad. Yet seeing the expression on Mac’s face as he spoke about Knox, Dre felt—the only word that came to mind was cheated. Cheated out of something special.

Pull up behind that red truck. Mac faced forward.

Knox stopped and set the car into park.

Engrossed while talking to Mac, Dre hadn’t paid attention to where they were going. He peered out the window and realized the sun had almost set. They were on a deserted street with boarded-up storefronts.

Mac opened his door. Knox, the box in the trunk has three briefcases. Would you get the black one?

Knox hopped out.

We’ll be right back, Dre. Mac slid out and started for the truck. The truck had seen better days. Dents marred the fender, and the tailgate showed rust spots. Knox slammed the trunk closed and hurried after his father. Mac grabbed the briefcase from him and hopped inside the truck.

A sinking feeling cramped Dre’s gut.

He couldn’t see what was happening, but he also wasn’t born yesterday. Business transactions on roads like this more than likely involved buying or selling something illegal.

Dre yanked the seat adjuster, and the front seat pitched forward. He reached for the handle, opened the door, and clambered out of the Mustang.

Sirens pierced the quiet night.

Streetlights illuminated an unmarked four-door sedan with flashing red lights in the back window.

Knox stood beside the open truck door. His panicked eyes met Dre’s. Someone yelled, and Knox jumped inside. Tires screeched and smoke spewed from the muffler as the truck sped off.

The police car followed in pursuit.

Terror streaking through him, Dre started off the other way, ready to jog home.

He’d only gone five steps before blaring sirens and more flashing lights stopped him cold. He spun to find a patrol car racing toward him.

Shit.

The car’s headlights blinded him as it came to a screeching halt a dozen yards in front of him.

Hands on your head, came over the car’s loudspeaker.

He raised his hands.

Two cops appeared like shadows in front of the squad car headlights. One headed to the Mustang, and one approached Dre. What’s your name?

Andre Biel.

How do you know Mac Wallace and Knox Pinster?

I don’t. Dre tried to slow his breathing.

He wasn’t guilty of anything, except getting into the car with strangers. Of course, didn’t criminals claim the same thing?

The policeman stepped close enough for Dre to see his small frame and young face. You were in the car with them. We’ve been watching since you arrived.

I met them tonight.

The other cop flipped up the trunk of the Mustang, and Dre’s insides flipped with it remembering the box Mac placed back there.

He concentrated on the police officer in front of him and hoped the guy would believe his explanation. I met them tonight because my sis—

Guns, the other cop called.

Guns?

The first policeman yanked out his firearm. Get on the ground.

Dre’s heart dropped to the pavement with his knees.

~

Four hours later, Dre sat in an interrogation room with the echo of the word guns playing on repeat in his head, giving him a headache and twisting his gut into nauseating chaos. Knox’s shocked face also haunted him.

He’d told the cops he didn’t know anything and described how Mac Wallace placed the box in the trunk when Knox picked him up. The officers hadn’t indicated whether they believed him when they handcuffed him, escorted him to the squad car, and brought him to the station. Once here, he’d been fingerprinted before being led into this room, taken out of the cuffs, and given a soda.

The room, from the concrete floor to the ceiling and even the table and chairs, was light gray. Scuff marks on the floor and walls suggested previous fights. A huge mirror hung on one wall. Certain it was a two-way, he hated the thought of being watched but had nothing to hide.

Except his stupidity.

His whole life he’d been deliberate and careful, always choosing the right path, never wanting to disappoint his mother by getting into trouble hanging out with the wrong crowd or doing drugs. He learned everything he could about football, studied hard in all his classes, and volunteered in the community, understanding he’d need a scholarship if he wanted to go to college.

Did this one night ruin all his hard work?

What happened to Knox and Mac? If they got arrested would they vouch for Dre and tell the police he was innocent?

The door rattled.

His stomach nausea shot to his throat.

Coach Banks walked in.

He hated to consider what Coach might think of this. His stepson, Zack, was one of Dre’s best friends. He liked and respected Coach Banks. The man was fair, even-tempered, and cared for his students.

Dre hastily stood, his chair screeching as it scraped the floor.

Sit. Brown hair mussed, Coach sat in the chair across the table from him.

He took his seat.

Want to tell me what happened?

Wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, Dre explained his evening since he’d gotten home from practice. He kept his eyes on Coach’s face, no reason to look anywhere else since he was being truthful. Suddenly, the cops were chasing Mac, Knox, and the person in the red truck. I was left with the Mustang that had guns in it.

And drugs.

Oh, hell. His heart sank lower in his chest. I swear I didn’t know.

What’s Mama B going to say about this? Coach rubbed his forehead.

From the residents at the retirement home where she worked to the pastor at church, everyone called his mother Mama B.

Dre shrugged. I shouldn’t have let Tracy talk me into doing it.

Sounds like you were trying to protect her.

Partly.

Coach tilted his head and waited.

Knox plays right tackle for U of H. When she mentioned the guy’s name, I wanted to meet him, thought he might invite me to college parties. I wish I could blame this on Tracy, but I’m also at fault.

Wanting to meet Knox, other ball players, and a coed or two is natural. Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve spent a lot of time with you on the field, and even more when you hang out at the house with Zack. I’d be able to tell if you were into drugs or illegal stuff. The cops have been watching Mac Wallace for a while. He’s wanted for drug trafficking in Texas and two other states.

How did you get involved?

One of the policemen who brought you in recognized your name from the news on last week’s game. He called me. He and the other officer believed your story. Plus, they checked your prints against the ones on the guns and, as you know, they weren’t a match. They’re keeping your name out of the report.

Chills of relief surged through him.

It’s late, though. Coach grimaced. I have a responsibility to tell Mama B what happened.

I’ll tell her. I’d like you to be there and explain how you got involved, though.

Sure thing. He remained sitting. You know how often I lecture you boys about how hard it is to go pro. I never encourage it.

Dre nodded.

Except where you’re concerned.

Surprised, he sat straighter, listening intently.

I’ve never met a kid with your talent. Some days I’m intimidated because I don’t think I’m a good enough coach for you.

A humbling sensation of acceptance and pride tightened Dre’s chest.

If you stay healthy, you’ll play college ball and more than likely go on to the pros if that is what you want. Take this night as a lesson—everything can change with one decision. Make smart choices. No more rides with strangers.

None.

And I expect you to get a good education. Coach leaned forward, his words sincere. I believe in you, Dre. Whether you play football or not, you’ll do exceptional things.

Something inside Dre eased. He no longer felt cheated out of anything.

Let’s go. Coach stood.

Once they exited the police station, he heard Kasey yell, Dre! Kasey, Zack, and Mrs. Banks hustled across the street toward them.

They insisted on coming, Mrs. Banks said as Dre bro-hugged the guys. They’d met the first day of freshman football practice and been close ever since. He described what happened and thanked them for coming. Then they left with Mrs. Banks.

The ride to his house was quiet. Country music softly played from the radio as he stared out the passenger window. When they turned onto his street, he peeked ahead and saw the lights on at his house. Coach parked behind his mother’s old Toyota. They exited the truck, and before they made it to the porch, the front door swiftly swung open. In a housedress with a scarf around her hair, Mom blocked the doorway. The porch bulb cast light on her worried eyes as they searched him from head to toe. Are you all right?

Yes, ma’am.

Her flowery scent engulfed him as she wrapped him in a hug. She patted his back before letting go.

Coach, I’d say it’s good to see you if it wasn’t so late.

Yes, Mama B. I’ll only stay a short while.

She backed into the house, and they followed. Tracy lurked in the shadows of the hallway for a second before coming forward to lean against the doorframe. His mother sat on the couch and Coach in the matching recliner.

Dre remained standing. I got arrested.

His mother’s brows shot to her scarf-covered hairline.

You weren’t arrested, Coach corrected. Only detained.

I was brought to the police station in handcuffs. He looked at his sister, not wanting to rat her out but unsure how he could keep her out of the conversation.

She squinted without saying anything.

He focused back on his mother. I was hanging out with a college football player tonight.

Who? she asked.

I met—

I asked Dre to hang out with Knox. I’m dating him.

Dre exhaled, thankful his sister came forward.

I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Mom trapped her with a glare.

Tracy shook her head. I planned to tell you. That’s why I wanted Dre to meet him. I thought if Dre vouched for him, you would be more open to letting me go out with him since he’s in college.

Mom pointed at Dre. What happened?

He explained the details of his night. When he finished, his mother turned to Tracy. What adventures have you been on with this boy?

Nothing like that. I’m sure there must be a mistake. Tracy spun toward Dre. Was he arrested?

I have no idea.

It’s got to be a mistake. He’s never taken drugs when we were together, and I’ve never seen him with a gun. Knox wouldn’t do anything like this.

After seeing Knox so panicked when the cops arrived, Dre wanted to agree with her, but he didn’t know the guy well enough to be certain. How can you be sure? You said you’d only been going out a couple of months.

More like six, she admitted.

"You’ve been running