Torment

by Chloe Fischer

  Oh, just stop romanticizing him. He’s a jerk.

  Darien held her gaze for a moment longer, as if he was trying to gauge what she was thinking but when she didn’t speak, he spun around shrugging.

  “Suit yourself. It’s literally your funeral.”

  He bounded toward the open market and disappeared inside before she could think of a suitable response but when Allister approached, she found herself shying away from him.

  “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s go get our stuff and get back on the bus.”

  “Actually, Al,” Odette murmured. “I have some work to do so I’d like to sit alone for the rest of the trip, if you don’t mind.”

  Allister grunted and shook his head.

  “Goddamn Darien warned you about my girl, didn’t he?”

  A wry smile formed on Odette’s lips.

  “It’s true about Angel, then?”

  Allister’s eyes narrowed.

  “Off the record? She’s fucking crazy.”

  Odette had to snort at his candor.

  “Well then, I suppose that answers that, doesn’t it?”

  Allister sighed and shook his head again.

  “We could be discreet,” he cooed and Odette grunted, shaking her head.

  “No thanks,” she retorted. “I don’t consort with attached men.”

  Allister sighed.

  “Killjoy,” he muttered, turning away. Once again, Odette found herself standing alone in the parking lot, wonderment filling her as she realized that she could add one more positive trait to Darien’s repertoire.

  He was honest too.

  Chapter 10

  Darien didn’t see much of Odette after they arrived in Columbus but he was vaguely aware of her nearness throughout the weekend, especially when he was on the field, giving his all against their national rivals.

  He felt like he was playing harder than he’d ever played, knowing that Odette’s eyes were on him.

  On some level, he knew he had no right to showboat for her but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself, a fact that wasn’t overlooked by his teammates at halftime on Sunday when they gathered in the visitors’ locker room.

  “You’re on fire today,” Sawyer told him appreciatively. “We’re really handing them their asses this game.”

  Darien shrugged modestly.

  “They suck,” he offered. “It isn’t hard.”

  But he knew the praise was well deserved. He had single-handedly gotten two touchdowns and he had no doubt that he’d score another two before the game’s end.

  “I bet it has something to do with the fact that Odette Stinson is here,” Allister muttered but Darien ignored him.

  He’s wrong. I don’t care about Odette Stinson. I only care about the game. And about Melody.

  On a whim, he texted Chicago.

  How’s it going?

  He waited for a response but nothing came and he wondered if he was being ignored.

  “Come on, boys. Time to get back out there,” Coach Wilder called from the doorway. “Let’s give the Buckeyes the beating they deserve.”

  Michigan won by a landslide and despite being on opposition ground, Darien was heady off the high of the win. It seemed to him that the cheers far outweighed the booing but he knew that was all part of his selective hearing process.

  “Time to par-tay!” Grayson yelled, snapping a towel as Darien emerged from the shower, dripping water over the tiles as he ambled toward his locker to dress.

  “Take it easy, boys,” Wilder warned. “We’re heading out early in the morning and I know some of you have class.”

  His words were met with laughter. No one ever went to their morning classes following a game, particularly not a noteworthy one. Coach Wilder wasn’t amused.

  “Don’t laugh,” he growled, his eyes fixing on Darien. “Some of you can’t afford to screw around with your grades.”

  Darien’s buzz began to falter, a scowl forming on his lips. He didn’t appreciate the reminder that he was a scholarship kid.

  “Ignore him,” Sawyer whispered. “I know just the place to go tonight. I hear the Buckeyes’ cheerleaders hang out there.”

  Darien laughed.

  “Isn’t that a little ballsy?” he asked but as he spoke, he saw the woman he’d been expecting since the game had ended entering the locker room and his pulse sped up slightly.

  “Why?” Sawyer chuckled, following his gaze. “It’s high time those broads had real men. Unless, of course, you have better options.”

  Darien wrenched his eyes away from Odette and scoffed.

  “I’m keeping my options open,” he said, reaching for his underwear. He deliberately let his towel fall from his hips, hoping that Odette was taking in his backside but when he covertly turned to look, he was mildly disappointed to see that she was interviewing Vernon who had managed to get one of his own touchdowns throughout the game.

  Seriously? She’s interviewing him?

  She seemed to have purposely positioned her body so that she wasn’t looking at him.

  Screw her.

  He reached for the rest of his clothing, grabbing to check his phone for any missed texts but to add to his chagrin, there was nothing about Melody.

  She’s either really mad or things have gotten worse.

  Stress shot through him and he contemplated sending another text but he reconsidered. He knew if she’d seen the text, she would have gotten back to him. Sending another one wasn’t going to help anything. He’d just have to wait for word.

  “Hurry up,” Sawyer implored him, making the decision for him. “I’m thirsty.”

  Darien slammed the locker and finished dressing, carefully avoiding the area where Odette was making her rounds with the other players.

  I deserve a celebratory night, he decided, shoving the locker closed and grabbing his bag. Then I can get back to the harsh realities of life.

  He followed Sawyer out of the overcrowded area, half-expecting Odette to stop him but she didn’t and he knew that he’d finally managed to shake her off his tail.

  Why, then, did that not fill him with more happiness?

  As Sawyer had promised, the club was in full-swing and overrun with attractive women, some of which were Ohio State cheerleaders.

  “Decisions, decisions,” Sawyer sighed and Darien snickered, knowing that his friend would never follow through. He knew Sawyer loved his girlfriend, despite all the talking he did. Still, he couldn’t fault the man for taking in the eye candy around them.

  The effects of the beers and shots he’d consumed were creating a euphoric feeling inside him and oddly, Darien felt the urge to dance.

  He nodded toward the floor and Sawyer cringed.

  “Are you drunk?” he demanded. “You want to dance?”

  Darien shrugged.

  “Why not? We’ll probably never see these bitches again in our lives. Live a little.”

  “No thanks,” Sawyer snickered. “I have a reputation to uphold and that includes not having photographic evidence of my shitty dance moves.”

  Darien shrugged and rose from the booth to amble toward the floor. He was surprised to find he was slightly unsteady on his feet.

  Shocking. No wonder you want to bust a move. You’re more loaded than you thought.

  He ignored the slight warning in the back of his mind and allowed the pulsating beat of the music to take him back to the streets of Chicago, the R&B tunes reminiscent of a different time and life.

  His mind should have been on Melody but he was younger suddenly, a child, staring out the filthy window of his project apartment at the snow below. It was Christmastime and he was a kid, maybe eight or nine, waiting for his father to come home.

  “He ain’t coming,” Jayce muttered from behind Darien. “He never comes. Stop being a fool and come away from the window before you get shot.”

  The feel of a body brushing up against him brought him back to the club, his half-closed eyes opening fully as he realized a brunette was danci
ng beside him.

  Seriously?

  He turned his body fully to face Odette who gave him a coy smile and Darien realized that she was just as tipsy as he was.

  The feel of her body against his did nothing to build his resolve to push her away and before he knew what was happening, his arms were around her slender form, drawing her against him and she, of course, didn’t resist him.

  Odette felt so right there, nestled in the curves of his frame like she had once been a part of his body at some other time or place. He didn’t even care that he was sure Sawyer was watching or that his other teammates might see him. He and Odette had unfinished business to attend to and that night was as good as any to see it through.

  As if she was reading his mind, she spun around, meeting his eyes squarely, even if there was a haze to them.

  “Should we get out of here?” she mumbled. For a minute, Darien stared at her, sobering slightly as he wondered exactly how inebriated she might be.

  “Maybe…” he said slowly but before he could gauge her sobriety anymore, she seized his hand and marched him toward the door. Her gait was certainly surer than his and several times, he stumbled after her but she tightened her grip on his palm every time, not letting him fall.

  When they got into the cool autumn night, Odette released his hand and reached for her phone. After punching in a few things, she replaced it in her bag and turned her attention back to him.

  “You’re really drunk,” she told him flatly. “I’m bringing you back to your room.”

  The spell that he’d felt had fallen over them suddenly evaporated and Darien gaped at her, wondering if he’d misread their closeness in the club.

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” he snapped, squaring his shoulders defensively but as he did, he swayed slightly and Odette reached out to steady him. Embarrassment flushed through him but for some reason, he didn’t pull away.

  “I’m not being paid enough to babysit you,” Odette agreed. “But if you’re willing to dance with me like that in front of everyone, you must be drunk off your face.”

  A denial sprang from his lips but he didn’t speak, suddenly realizing that she was right. A sleek, black Honda pulled up in front of them and Odette nodded toward the vehicle.

  “Our Uber.”

  His brow raised.

  “Our?”

  She shrugged and moved him toward the back door, opening it to let him in.

  “I’m going back to the hotel too. We may as well share an Uber.”

  She shoved in beside him and greeted the driver, an unassuming man in his thirties who offered them water which Odette took and thrust at Darien.

  “You should probably drink this. You’re going to feel like crap in the morning.”

  Begrudgingly, he accepted the water but he wasn’t feeling as drunk now that they were away from the strobe lights and loud music. It was as if the other variables had enhanced his intoxication. Even so, he took a swig of water and recapped the bottle.

  “The Hilton?” the driver confirmed as he pulled away from the curb.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  “What were you even doing there tonight?” Darien heard himself ask. Odette gave him a sidelong look.

  “What? I can’t go out and have fun?”

  He snorted.

  “It’s just weird that you ended up at the same place as I did, don’t you think?”

  “No,” she replied quickly—too quickly, Darien thought. “You’re not the only Wolverine there.”

  Darien smirked, taking in her slinky black dress for the first time. The swell of her breasts was evident over the low neckline and the material clung to her toned curves like a hug.

  “So you’re working?” he said dubiously, staring purposefully at her outfit. “Really?”

  Even in the dim light of the passing streetlamps, he could read the blatant lie on her face. She had come looking for him. He knew that with every fiber of his being.

  And now she’s found me. Now what?

  “What’s your deal anyway?” she demanded, purposely shifting topics.

  “Is this an interview?”

  She sighed and turned to look out the window.

  “No,” she muttered. “I’m starting to realize I’m never going to get one of those from you.”

  There was a note of sadness in her voice, completely inappropriate to the situation, and he found himself cocking his head.

  “Is that the end of the world?” he asked, wondering why he cared.

  “No. Just the end of my career,” she muttered. Her head whipped around as the words left her lips and she gaped at him like she couldn’t believe she’d said that. A biting comment threatened to leave his lips, one that spoke to her lack of journalistic integrity but for the first time, he held back.

  “One interview with me isn’t going to make or break you,” he said instead. “Basketball season is up and there are dozens of players you can talk to.”

  She narrowed her eyes.

  “Seriously. You’re comparing yourself to other players.”

  A spark of pride shot through him but Darien got the distinct impression that she wasn’t paying him a compliment, only stating a fact. He stifled a sigh.

  “Look,” he relented. “I’ll give you your interview.”

  To his surprise, she snorted.

  “Sure you will.”

  “I will,” he growled, annoyed that she wasn’t taking his word at face value.

  “Like you did after the LSU game? Like you did after Pokey Mahone’s?”

  He laughed mirthlessly.

  “Pokey Mahone’s was on you,” he reminded her. “I wasn’t the one who pissed off the students with my article.”

  To his shock, and to that of the driver, Odette yelled, “THAT WAS YOUR FAULT TOO!”

  There was a genuine frustration in her voice, one that went deeper than being slighted.

  “How the hell do you figure that?” Darien demanded. “I didn’t write the article.”

  “No, you jackass, you gave me no choice but to write about my experience at the game because you ghosted me after the game and I had nothing to give my editor when I promised to have an exclusive for him!”

  For a minute, Darien didn’t know what to say. He looked away and tried to shrug nonchalantly.

  “I tried to make up that interview,” he offered and she grunted.

  “Whatever, Darien.”

  She turned and looked out the window. The hotel was approaching and Darien felt a stab of disappointment as he realized how close they were. Given Odette’s present state of mind, he was sure that coming up to his room was the last thing on her mind.

  “Thank you,” she said to the Uber driver when they pulled up in front and was out the door before Darien could even open his.

  She disappeared inside and Darien had to run to catch up with her. He was no longer stumbling, his buzz fading as he watched Odette head toward the elevators.

  They didn’t speak a word but as the elevator doors opened, Darien gave her a peripheral look of exasperation. He wanted to say something to her to wipe the slight scowl off her face but he had to admit, there was a certain perverse pleasure at seeing her angry.

  She’s hot when she’s mad, he realized. Even hotter than usual.

  On cue, blood rushed to his groin.

  The lift climbed and finally stopped on the eighth floor where the Wolverines were staying. With a sigh, he moved toward the door but as he did, Odette called out to him.

  “Where are you going?”

  He paused and glanced at her in surprise.

  “What?”

  “You promised me an interview,” she muttered. “My room’s on the ninth floor.”

  A surge of excitement rushed through him as he understood what she was asking him but before he could respond, Odette pulled him back, yanking him down to level their faces.

  “You owe me,” she told him sternly and he grinned.

  “I guess I better pay up then
,” he replied, dancing her back to pin her against the mirror of the elevator and plant his lips squarely against hers.

  Chapter 11

  I’m getting my interview, Odette vowed, her legs wrapped around Darien’s waist as he carried her out of the elevator and onto the ninth floor.

  He paused halfway down the hall to press her against the wall, tongue snaking into her mouth to explore the inside of her mouth and Odette sighed with pleasure, relishing the waves of heat embracing her. This time, there would be no interruption. This time, they would finish what they’d started.

  And I’m getting my damned interview.

  She wondered if it was wrong that she kept thinking about the article she desperately needed to get from Darien when his hand was clutching her ass with such fervor.

  But she had no doubt that if she didn’t come home from that weekend with something, anything to keep Marcus’ attention, she’d be staring at whatever the State used to constitute a pink slip.

  This is my last chance and a simple piece on the game isn’t going to cut it. I need something better, meatier.

  She hoped that Darien was finally going to deliver but she’d been fooled before.

  Somehow, they found their way into her room, door clicking shut behind them as Darien spun her until she fell onto the bed, staring up at him. He pulled off his shirt and she bit on her lower lip, taking in the twitching muscles of his abs as he wrestled out of his clothes. He was on her again, her skirt riding up along her waist as she locked her ankles around his waist.

  God, that’s it. That’s what I’ve been missing.

  The bulge of his huge manhood was pressed firmly against her, only the thin material of her panties and his boxers separating them but Odette was sure that he would poke a hole through them, the mere heat of his erection alone sending waves through her.

  The halter of her neck fell away, exposing her breasts as his lips followed the lines of her neck and chin to lick at her perspiring skin.

  Never mind that it was barely above room temperature in the suite or that she was suddenly naked as Darien’s head moved lower along her stomach to explore every avenue of her body. There was only heat flowing over her in endless rolls.