by Kitty Cox
He shook his head. "I don't want you to see that."
"I've already seen it. I knew you were with another woman. I believe I picked her." She licked her lips. "Take off your shirt, Chance. Expose your flaws with me?"
He took a deep breath, then nodded. "You know this is going to get bad, right? They won't be able to help themselves."
"Trust them."
He nodded again, then tugged at his shirt. Yanking it over his head, he threw the cotton as far from them as he could, then turned back, exposing the love marks on his body to the entire team. He looked at Dez, his eyes begging her to reassure him.
"Whoa," Jeff said softly. "That was a nasty one."
The rest of them mumbled softly. Sam, being the only woman in the crowd, spoke up next. "Definite war wounds. Should we leave the bite, since it's obviously human and so is the enemy?"
"Well," Tim said while Dez and Chance resumed their position, "we can enhance the claw marks and make a point of how people do their best to rip us apart? A metaphor for the wounds on the inside of most people?"
Braden was the voice of wisdom. "Get the shots, then ask them. That's a whole lot of vulnerable right there, guys. The thing is, most people would never see it."
"I see it," Dez told Chance, her words for them alone. "And you did it for me."
"I'll do anything for you." He moved closer, his chest almost against her arm.
She reached up without thinking and pressed her palm over his heart. The bass of his pulse vibrated in her hand. He leaned into it, turning his head down. If he bent, he could kiss her. It made her own heart beat faster. Beneath her fingers, his did, too. She almost hoped he would but couldn't say anything – not with the click of the camera – so she couldn't tell him. With everyone looking, with Chance's weakness exposed so bravely, she realized that maybe she would even like it.
"Anything," he promised again. "Give up my addiction, just like you did."
She heard the camera pause, so dared to answer. "I'll fail."
"And I'll probably fuck it up, too." His heart was hitting her hand so hard. "But if you want it, I'll try. I'll be anything you need, Dez. I'm in love with you." His fingers tensed against her cheek.
"Chance..."
"Shh," he said softly. "You'll mess up the picture. Just accept that it's true."
She did. She could feel it in his hands and hers. The way his heart was beating proved he was terrified of it, just like she was, but that wasn't enough to stop him from saying it. He loved her. Chance Hunter, the beautiful man who was everything she'd ever wanted, even with his flaws, was in love with her.
"That's it!" The photographer was ecstatic. "Yes, that's exactly the look we need. Oh, this is going to be so good."
"Me?" Dez asked.
He barely nodded. "You. Only you. My little demon pixie. My sweet taste of sugar." His eyes dropped to her lips. "Dez, I need to get out of here, ok? I need my fix, and I don't want to ever hurt you. Last night..."
She closed her eyes and let his hand hold her head. "It's ok. I understand. The team has things to finish."
"I just..."
"And it's over," Mr. Martinez groaned. "Ok, I've got at least a thousand images here for you all to choose from. You two can relax."
"Thank you," Flynn told him. "I'll get you a receipt."
Chance dropped his hand, but it felt like he didn't want to. "Look." He moved to stand before her, blocking her from the team. "After last night, I'm scared I'll hurt you. One more, then I'll try to be a good man?"
She let her fingertips slide over his pectoral, a tiny smile on her mouth because she could. "Or you won't. It's ok. I know how hard it is to quit." She looked up at him. "I need more pot, and you're getting a little goth girl."
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "A tragically wounded one. You're going to make her forget for a while that someone said she wasn't good enough."
"The team will be here," he whispered.
She shrugged. "Then you can tell me about it. That's just as good."
He lifted his hand slowly and rested the tips of his fingers on her knuckles. "Do this again?"
"Tonight." She tilted her head. "Now go get laid."
"I do. I meant it."
"I'm getting there."
He stepped back and jogged over for his shirt. "Ok, guys. Make your magic. Tim, need a refill. Dez, you know where the cash is." He pulled on the t-shirt.
"Leaving already?" Braden asked.
Chance grinned. "You got me all hot and bothered, bro. Need to work it off."
A few of them chuckled. "Guess he's not picky," Sam teased.
"No," Braden said. "That's me. Pretty sure he's very picky, for one night."
"Ok," Dez said loudly, walking toward them. "Enough analyzing our issues. Our focus is the trailer and the cover art. We've got work to do, people, and I'm fucking jonesing."
Braden shoved his hand into his pocket, the other turning so he could see his watch. "Ten hours, not bad."
"And my skin's crawling. Why the fuck did I get addicted to opiates?"
Jeff chuckled. "Because it's easier to quit than what Chance has. I could give you the neuroscience behind it if you want."
"No," Dez assured him. "I want to see the first trailer."
"Showtime!" Tim called, herding them all back into the building.
Chapter 18
He wasn't exactly making it easy on himself. Sure, he knew where the goths liked to hang out, and yes, his t-shirt was black, but that didn't mean he fit in. Nothing Chance could do would make him appear to be gothic, especially not to those in the subculture. He still loved it. The Renaissance clothing, the dramatic style to everything they did, and that dark, stark makeup.
There was beauty in everything if people would just bother to look, and he did. The child of the elite, he'd grown up knowing that his place was at the top, but wishing he could dye his hair and hide among them. Punk, goth, metalheads, hipsters, jocks, debutantes, nerds, geeks, and even intellectuals, he loved them all, in their own way. Chance stepped into the pub and looked around.
"How many?" a pretty blonde asked.
He smiled at her. She'd make a nice backup plan. "Just me."
"Oh." Her eyes dropped over his body. "Sure, if you'd like to follow me?"
"Actually." He stopped her before the girl could head to the wrong side of the room. "Can I have that table?" He pointed at a booth just beside a loud cluster of people in black.
She looked at him, looked at the group of goths, then back to him. "Sure, I guess. They've been there for hours, though. Probably not leaving anytime soon."
Chance nodded. "That's fine. I'm actually doing research. Need a little people watching."
"Ah, ok." She turned for the table he'd indicated. "This way, then."
Damn, she was cute. Probably not eighteen, though, and definitely not the kind he should get near. No, his waitress looked very sweet, innocent, and virtuous. She was worried about the people in black clothing but had no idea he was the real threat to girls like her. From the way she was smiling at him, it wouldn't take much to get her naked.
He decided she wouldn't be such a good backup plan after all. Sliding into the far side of the booth, he still smiled at her, then ordered a Coke. He had plenty of time but wanted to make it back to the shop before Dez passed out. He certainly didn't want to end up too drunk to drive, and with the hunt she'd given him, that was a very real possibility.
The waitress promised she'd be back and left him to stare at the dark lips and tight corsets. He tried to be subtle, but the seven people across from him were a little too used to being looked at. It didn't take long before one of the three men decided to challenge him.
"Hey, you got a problem?"
Chance shrugged, doing his best to look unconcerned. "Not really. I was simply trying to determine if her," and he pointed at a well-endowed girl, "skin was due to very skilled makeup, or if it's naturally that gorgeous shade of porcelain."
The girl's head whipped
around, and she looked truly startled. "What?"
"Sorry. I'll keep my eyes to myself." He smiled politely and turned back to the menu.
Lunch was a pretty good idea. Unlike Dez, he preferred to eat a few times a day. He picked something then pulled out his phone. If this was going to be a slow hunt, then he might as well get some work done. He was flipping through his email when the waitress came by for his order. After she left, he started looking at their schedule for F5.
It was going to be rough. They should probably stream their demo, and he was going to need Dez's help. He had no idea how he'd keep her from losing her mind in that environment, but taking Braden would help. Those two had become pretty close, and Braden wouldn't let anyone come near her. He chuckled under his breath. He certainly hadn't expected that pair to get along. Then again, Dez was nothing but one surprise after another. The name of his game pulled him out of his thoughts.
"The Silk demo is supposed to be intense, but you know they're going to fuck it up." A muscular girl leaned back, daring her friends to deny it.
From the far end of the table, a long, lean girl propped her stripe-covered arms on the table. "Even if they do, it'll still be amazing."
"Twitch combat, though?" another asked. When Chance looked at her, he paused. Perfect.
Her dark hair hung to the middle of her back in thick waves, blacker than anything he'd ever seen. Her lips were like soot and her eyes like an abyss. What sold him was her smile. Where the others in her group tried so hard to be overly melodramatic, she simply didn't care. There was a shadow in her gaze, a wound somewhere within, and it tugged at him but didn't control her.
"Ok, Amy, if not twitch, what do you want? A button masher?" This from one of the guys.
His little dove shook her head. "No. I just have no interest in an MMO where I can't achieve much because I suck at shooters. I'm more interested in crafting and progression, and less in how big my dick is." Amy lifted a single well-shaped brow. "Because unlike you, Luke, I can think about more than how to put the crosshairs over the middle of the screen."
"Silk has automated targeting, too," Chance said, looking at them. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear."
"Yeah? And how'd you find that out?"
"Three years ago there was an interview on TGC. Silk will have both tab- and twitch-style combat. Developers are trying to balance them so they work together without offering an advantage."
"Still won't play it," Amy said. "The whole thing is just empty hype."
"Why do you say that?" Chance wanted her attention on him, but most of all, he wanted her answer. He rarely got to hear the honest opinions of his potential market, except for those with extreme views.
"Like I said, I want crafting."
He nodded. "Well, you know Destiny Pierce said that an engaging crafting system is more than creating a carbon copy of what everyone else can. It should require skill and patience, as well as player investment."
Amy nodded. "Exactly. Since the SWG thing, no one can get it right."
Chance couldn't hold back his smile. Silk did. They'd taken many of the ideas from the SWG style crafting, including the ability to become an industrial baron. The longevity of a game was based on player progression in more than just levels. He wanted to keep people logging in and paying so that Deviant Games could keep making new ways to entertain the masses and let them escape from reality for a while.
"So what if Silk had an engaging system – would you play it?"
"Yeah, but why bother grinding up a new character when I'm already set up in WoW?" She lifted a cup of coffee to her lips and sipped like a true lady.
Chance turned his eyes back to his phone and started a text message to Mark. She had a very good point, and they needed to make sure that got into the demo. He flicked his eyes up. "Thanks," he told Amy as the waitress rounded the corner with his lunch.
"What for?"
"Call it inspiration." He smiled and pressed send before picking up a slice of his sandwich.
"Dude," the muscular girl laughed. "You're like, crazy enough to be one of us."
He nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, but not sure I could pull it off. I mean," he swept a hand over his red hair, "doesn't exactly fit the stereotype."
That little comment got him in. He'd breached the defensive barriers by showing the group respect. Damn, it was easier to pick up the popular girls, but then again, it was also a lot less rewarding. His eyes flicked to Amy again, then he tried to mind his own business, but he knew she was looking.
The guy closest to him had found his element and refused to give up the talk of games. "You think Deviant is a one hit wonder? I mean, after Silk, will they be able to make anything else that competes?"
"Ask him," Amy said, pointing to Chance. "He seems to have connections."
Slowly he looked at her. "Teaser trailer for their next game will be featured at F5. Is that what you wanted?"
"No way," the guy hissed. "How do you know that?"
Make or break time. Chance turned his phone to the group. "Says right here. Release first trailer this weekend with alpha access. Hold trailer two until F5."
Amy picked up her cup and made her way around the table. Chance looked at her, saying nothing but admiring the view. Her skirt was short, her fitted shirt tight, and fishnets covered her legs. Damn, he needed to get Dez some of those. They were very nice to look at.
She dropped her cup before him and slid into the opposite side. "You work there, don't ya?"
He smiled. "NDA."
Slowly she nodded. "I see. Chance, right?"
Oh, she wasn't stupid at all. "Yes, Amy. Thanks for the reminder to include the crafting system in the Silk demo."
"How can you be so sure Silk won't crash and burn?" Her fingers wrapped around her cup, the dark nails nice and short.
He took another bite, forcing her to wait. "Well, I know who’s on staff, and not all of the developers are listed. Nor the partners."
"Site says you're sole owner."
"Not anymore." He looked into her eyes. The pain was there, and it was real. He wondered what had happened to make such a brilliant girl so very sad.
Amy bit her black lip. "What's the next game?"
He turned his arm over, exposing the tattoo. "It's the game we should have made first but were too stupid to admit."
"Flawed?"
Chance smiled. "I can't tell you anything about it."
"You own the company," she countered. "Can't sue yourself."
With his tattooed arm, he reached over and lifted her chin until she looked right into his eyes. "I'm not the sole owner anymore. My partner is the only person in the industry who could change the entire scene with a single game – or a blog post."
He watched her lashes widen and her pupils flare. Oh, this girl was a gamer. She kept up on the news. Talking to her, touching her like this, it was almost like being with his Dez. He let his thumb move across her skin, just a hint of a caress, then removed his hand.
"Destiny Pierce is a myth. She's out of the scene."
"She's back." He looked down to his meal.
Double duty. He was reeling this one in and setting up the community for the first trailer. He just hoped that whatever the team had up their sleeve would be good enough, or he was sticking his neck pretty far out there. Then again, unsubstantiated rumors were par for the course in the industry. So were unofficial but intentional leaks.
"Holy shit. Is that where she's been? She disappeared right after the announcement."
Chance shook his head. "No, but Deviant Games stands behind her decision."
"Oh, that sounded official."
He nodded. "Very. My team protects each other, including our reputations."
"Amy." A big guy stood by her chair at the other table. "Stop talking to the rich boy. We're hitting the club."
She looked back. "I'll catch up, Drake."
"No, you'll come with us."
Chance looked at the girl across from him and saw her tense. He
turned to the brute in black and suddenly understood. "Which club?" he asked Amy.
"Radiant," she told him. "It's more of a pool hall and less of a club, but it's where we all hang out on the weekends."
He nodded. "You play pool?"
Her head twitched, surprised he'd asked. "Yeah. Doesn't everyone?"
"No." He glanced at her boyfriend quickly. "I've been kicked out of the shop for a couple of hours. Wasn't sure if you wanted company or if your boyfriend kept you on a short leash."
"Real short," Drake said, coming over.
"Back off," Amy told him. "We're just talking about MMOs, ok?"
Drake grabbed her arm. "He's not."
Amy pulled back and Chance reached out, stopping the guy from grabbing her again, but his eyes were on her. "You ok?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Come by when you're done. I'll buy the first game." She took a breath and looked up. "And I'm coming, Drake. Happy?"
"Not if you think you're going to be talking to him."
Chance held up his hands. "Just picking her brain." Damn, his perfect little goth chick had to have a boyfriend.
They left, but Chance watched. Oh, he'd go. The situation did not sit well with him at all. Maybe he hadn't been there to help Dez, but this one was different. He'd seen the fear in Amy's eyes when Drake tried to grab her. He couldn't believe her friends would just let the idiot manhandle her, but all too often the smart ones were the best at hiding things. He knew; he lived with one.
He quickly paid for his meal and left. Radiant was just next door, and it was definitely time for a beer. Chance headed to the bar and ordered something a bit nicer than college fare. He wasn't looking for a way to mark time, and he had a funny feeling he was going to be nursing this for a while. He barely turned away from the bar when a hand dropped on his shoulder.
"Stay away from my girl," Drake hissed in his ear.
Chance slowly turned to face him, making sure the idiot knew he wasn't scared at all. "Let me explain something to you." He took a sip, forcing the brute to wait. "Women are meant to be treasured, not possessed. Oh yeah, and I could take you."