foot, then keyed up the volume with his left thumb to the Bose Surround System. The acoustics to The Notorious B.I.G.’s hit Hypnotize banged in and Miles raced up from 72 miles per hour to 106 in a matter of 2.6 seconds. With the adrenaline flowing through his veins Miles knew he needed to slow down. His brother had just warned him not to do anything stupid over the next few months, furthermore the rest of his life. Easing his foot off the accelerator Miles settled on the posted speed limit of fifty-five. Back in third gear Miles just sailed along, what was the rush? Hell, he was to have dinner with his parents that evening before going to Club B.E.D. in South Beach for a party that was being hosted by rappers Luther Campbell and Rick Ross. He just had to make one final stop before he went to his parents’ home in Parkland. Crossing over Glades Road, Miles turn left and slid the Cayman S in the parking lot of the Westwinds of Boca Shopping Center and Publix Grocery Store. Just his luck there was a spot right in the front. Unfortunately, for others it was not to be such a lucky day.


Hopping out, Miles grabbed his BlackBerry off the passenger’s seat, strolled into the Publix grocery store, got a cart, and headed to the Wine and Spirit section of the store.


More of this chapter.


… Suddenly Miles heard the unquestionable, but distinguishable sounds of a single gunshot. Next was the shouting and yelling. Followed by the panic and chaos, this all arose within the store. Miles froze, pushed the cart to the side, and quickly walked up the aisle. Softly he mouthed, “Shit!” and shook his head. Twenty-five yards to his right he caught a glimpse of a man with a pistol to the head of a young woman. Thinking… I can easily make a dash out the sliding door and escape this mess. But something was holding him back. What was it?


More of this chapter.


 … “Hey, I know you… you are Miles Jacob. I just saw you the other night on TV. Damn four touchdowns, four fucking touchdowns and 361 yards against the number one defense in the country. Miles fucking Jacob. My boys ain’t going to believe this shit. Hell I love UM but you… you are the shit man. Fuck, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be in this mess right now. I lost everything betting against you. My car, the rent …shit’s just fucked up right now for me. Hey, I ain’t mad at ya. I respect your game. Damn Miles fucking Jacob,” he repeated puzzlingly.


“So can we make a deal? Please let the woman go. You can have the money and watch – just let her go please.” Miles looked at the young woman and told her everything would be Ok in a few minutes.


At this point the manager, clerks, and most of the customers were hurrying down the aisles and out the rear exits. No one even thought to call 911 but maybe that was for the best. Miles knew that the police would probably only make this situation even hairier.


“Fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” The robber was nervous. Miles inserted, “Look man please take the money and the watch and just let the woman go. The watch is about twelve grand.”


“Fuck man I can’t rob Miles Jacob! Did you see what they did to those assholes that robbed and killed Sean Taylor? Awww man I’m fucked.” Sean Taylor was a former University of Miami football star and the prize free safety of the Washington Redskins. He was shot and killed at his home in Miami while on his off day from the Redskins. They had given the five suspects life in prison for his murder. Taylor had been considered around the league as the best free safety in the game, he was only twenty-four years old at the time of his death.


“Look man you’re straight, just take the money and the watch. Let the woman go before shit gets out of hand. No questions asked.” Miles tossed over the six one hundred dollar bills; the would-be robber bent down, still holding the hostage in a loose chokehold and picked up each bill. “Now please let her go.” The man started to back up with hostage in tow. Miles started to loosen his watch and followed. Before he could turn over his watch to the man the doors slide open, the robber pushed his hostage into Miles’ arms, turns and raced out into the crowded parking lot of the Westwinds. Miles caught the beautiful young woman with the blue steel greyish eyes and jet-black bone straight hair. She wrapped her arms around Miles placing her teary face into his chest. She could smell the soft scent of his cologne. Looking up at Miles she asked, “What kind of cologne is that?” Myth, Miles replied, “light blue by Dolce & Gabbana.” “It smells good on you.” “Thanks.” “No thank you.”


More of this chapter.


… “By the way, I’m Miles Jacob.” “Nice to meet you Miles – Sydney… Sydney Crain”, as she stuck out her hand for a firm handshake. Sydney Crain was a twenty-two year-old senior at Rollins College in Winter Park, a small city nestled in the shadows of bigger Orlando. Standing 5’7, she had curves of a super model. In fact, her looks were a cross between Hollywood movie stars Halle Berry and Jessica Alba, but with more of an olive skin tone. Her looks were just astonishingly diverse, unlike any other’s.