The Game Has Changed

by D. L. Wu

  As they waited for their food to arrive, Evan held out his wine glass to her in order to let her have a taste. He was well aware that she wasn't of age, but that reality seemed to be slipping away from him. It was as if he didn’t care anymore about the fact that he’d kidnapped and had sex with a minor. By legal standards, he was leading her astray. She accepted the wine glass and took a sip, knowing that she'd do anything for him now.

  “I will tell you more,” he explained to her over their dinner. “But not here. I’ll do so once we’ve acquired a room.”

  She nodded with understanding. “Thanks,” she replied softly. “You know, I was really miserable last night.”

  “Were you? Why?”

  “It was the first time we didn't sleep together,” she admitted shyly. “Not even in the same room. I – I missed you.”

  He laughed. “I was drunk. I'd have been no good to you anyway.”

  She smiled demurely at him. “Just feeling your warm body beside me is enough for me, drunk or otherwise.”

  “Sweetheart . . .” She stared back at him with apprehension. “I don't want to hurt you, but . . .” She moaned softly. “We probably shouldn't sleep in the same bed together anymore.”

  “Why not?” she asked, heartbroken.

  “I'd be too tempted, my love. Way too tempted.” A small sob escaped her. “I know how you're feeling, Luv, but it really isn't right for me to continue on . . .” he paused. “To keep doing that with you. You're really still a child.”

  “But . . . if I say yes, shouldn't that count for something?”

  He shook his head. “Not in a court of law, my dear.”

  “Oh, Evan,” she sighed with sadness. “Does it really matter anymore?”

  A slight frown marred his forehead. “So what you're saying is . . . that I'm in such deep shit anyway, why be a good boy now?”

  She paled beneath the onslaught of his words. He had somehow misconstrued her words. Her trepidation was short-lived as she saw a teasing grin upon his face. A sigh of relief escaped her.

  “I think you may be right, my sweet.”

  His response intrigued her. Did that mean they had license to make love again? “Am I?” she asked with wonder.

  “I'm doomed to eternal damnation, anyway. I might as well glean all the pleasure that I can out of life, right?” He laughed as she visibly trembled with excitement. “However, you’re not doomed to eternal damnation, Darlin'. You should try to stay good and pure.”

  “I think it's too late for that,” she quipped and winked mischievously in his direction.

  CHAPTER 29

  As they walked out of the restaurant into the cool night air, Evan grasped her hand again once more. Before heading to the car, he took a short detour through the strip mall nearby. Jaime was a tad overwhelmed when he took her to a flower vendor in front of a small shop and bought a large bouquet of mixed flowers for her.

  There was no longer any doubt within her mind, she was head over heels in love with him and there would be no turning back. Clutching the flowers tightly to her chest, Jaime smiled and inhaled the sweet fragrance.

  “Thank you.”

  He returned her smile and patted her hand gently. “You’re welcome. Shall we?”

  She nodded and slipped her hand in his. “Yes,” she said, allowing him to lead her in the direction where they’d left the car earlier.

  ***

  “Well, blimey!” Evan murmured when they entered their new motel room and found only one queen-sized bed before them. “I guess we have no choice but to share now, do we?”

  Jaime gave Evan a pleased grin. To her delight, he smiled and gave her his signature sexy wink. Her heart swelled with emotion as her knees buckled underneath her. He caught her within his arms in hopes of steadying her.

  “You ok?”

  “Yes, thanks,” she said, her cheeks flushed with color.

  “Good,” he murmured softly.

  “Shall we prepare for bed?”

  She nodded, enjoying the feel of him pressed against her. “I’d like that,” she replied, her voice husky with desire as she anticipated sleeping beside him later on.

  He held her against him far longer than he intended, staring deep into her eyes. They remained that way for awhile before they broke apart and headed for the bathroom. Jaime wanted to take a quick shower and he cited that he needed to shave.

  ***

  Jaime let the rush of warm water from the shower course soothingly over her entire body. She felt warm and content all over. Evan was also in the bathroom with her, standing in front of the sink shaving. Things felt more comfortable between them than ever before. She was in love and deep down, she felt that Evan was falling in love with her, too.

  Pulling back the shower curtain, she saw him lean toward the mirror, slim razor gently moving across his skin. He seemed to be getting the hang of using the safety razor after taking her suggestions to heart. He turned toward her for a moment as she smiled at him with adoration. His sexy wink in her direction made her tremble with pleasure.

  “You done?” he asked as she turned off the shower.

  She nodded, brushing her long, wet hair off of her face. To her absolute surprise and delight, Evan wrapped the towel around her.

  “Come on, then,” he whispered and lifted her into his arms.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck and kissed him as he carried her into the bedroom. She squealed as he dropped her upon the bed and dropped down hard on top of her.

  His passion bordered on aggression as his body slid against hers. Though he was passionate and loving with her, he stopped short of the act the second time around. His worry about her innocence kept him gentle and careful with her. Never-the-less, she felt as if she were in heaven as he simply caressed and kissed her as he lay against her. Despite Evan's hesitance, Jaime felt fulfilled.

  ***

  They lay awake in a comfortable silence late into the night. Jaime was curled beneath him as he lay with his head propped upon his arms atop her naked chest. She tenderly caressed his forehead, brushing her fingers across the healing scar that traversed the length of it before pushing his silky brown hair from out of his dark brown eyes.

  “I hope we never get to California,” she whispered, breaking the gentle silence between them.

  “Yeah,” he sighed softly, “but we can't run forever.”

  She groaned with discontent. “Why not?”

  “Someone's missing you, I’m sure,” he replied as a matter-of-factly.

  “My aunt and uncle have been watching me since my dad died. It's only been a month or so. I don't miss them at all. I've known you for six days and you . . . you, I would miss tremendously after just one day!”

  He stared into her eyes with interest. “How come?”

  “Because,” she breathed, hoping that he understood what she was about to say to him. “I love you.” Her voice trembled with emotion as she said it. She held her breath and waited for his reaction as she continued to brush his hair back.

  “How do you know that you love me?” he asked inquisitively.

  She took a deep breath to steady herself and said, “I feel it inside of me.”

  “I don't mean to give you the third degree, my sweet, but how do you know it's not just infatuation? You've never been in love before. I'm the first man you've ever been with and I’ve also protected you from an assault. What you feel might not be real love.”

  Tears welled up within her eyes. Perhaps he didn't love her, after all. These were the words of a man pulling back in order to avoid hurting her feelings. Was he just using her? Was she just a piece of luggage that he carried along and used until he got to his final destination? Once his fate was sealed at the end of this journey, was she really that expendable?

  Yet she couldn't challenge him or argue with him anymore. She didn't have the strength to say what she was feeling. Nor did she have the courage to ask him what she really wanted to know. Yet she couldn’t help b
ut to wonder as to what he truly felt about her.

  “We probably have three or four more days until we get to Los Angeles,” Evan said softly. “If you still feel this strongly, then we'll see.”

  “And then you'll leave me!” she cried.

  He reached to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. “Hey, don't cry, Luv. I'll take care of you before I do, I promise.”

  “I don't want to be taken care of!”

  “I have to take care of you, Sweetheart.” The affection she heard within his voice made her heart flutter with expectation. He gently rubbed his finger across her bottom lip. That action alone made her shiver. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?”

  “So since you're rich, you'll just load me down with money and put me on a plane to Philly?” she prodded. “That's not what I want from you!”

  “I may have already given you more,” he whispered as he stared down at her intently.

  She stared up at him with confusion and rubbed at her runny nose with the back of her hand. A knowing smile played about his lips and he refused to say more. Sadness overwhelmed her. The fact that he felt so warm and strong against her did nothing to quell her worries. She couldn't help the intense misery she was experiencing.

  After a moment, he lay his head down against her chest. She slipped her fingers within his hair, absent-mindedly caressing it. He could feel her warmth and hear her delicate heartbeat as he lay there pressed against her. He could also sense her gentle tears. He gently curled his fingers about her beautiful, baby soft breast and wished that things could have been different. He desired, more than anything, to keep her as his lover, forever.

  CHAPTER 30

  “Didn't you promise me last night that you would tell me?” Jaime reminded Evan the next morning as she sat at the table in her underclothes watching him get dressed.

  He smoothed his white tee shirt over his chest and sighed deeply. He smiled and nodded as he threaded his fingers through his shaggy mop of hair. “I did, I guess.”

  “You killed someone, didn't you? With that gun.” She pointed to the gun lying on the table in front of her as it sat within its leather holster.

  He eyed the weapon wearily. “No. I told you, I'm not a killer.”

  “You can tell me the truth. You know that now. You can trust me till the end of time.”

  “Of our time?” he asked softly. “Or time in general?”

  “I hope they will someday be one and the same,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  He was a little stunned by her yearning. “The person I was with killed someone,” he admitted. “A shop owner, but I was there so . . .”

  “But you didn't pull the trigger?”

  “No, I didn't.”

  “Why did he kill the person?”

  “He thought he was being screwed over by this person.”

  “Was he?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know.”

  She grew quiet as she contemplated his words. “Why do you have the gun, then?”

  He looked about, a tad nervous because of her inquiry. He ran his fingers through his hair reflexively. He cleared his throat and said, “It is the murder weapon.”

  She frowned. “But you didn't do it. Why do you have it?”

  “That's the part I'm having trouble with as well. I don't know why.”

  “But how did you get it?”

  “I don't remember,” he insisted. “That whole night is a little fuzzy to me. That was the same night I totaled my car and . . .” He began to pace back and forth across the room. He felt apprehensive and restless. “My friend must have stashed it on me without my knowing. He must have made me take it, but I really can't remember anything!”

  “Evan?” Jaime inquired, worry filling her as she noted the wild-eyed look upon his face. “Evan, are you all right?”

  “I didn't do it!” He sounded irrational and it frightened her. “I didn't kill him!”

  She jumped up from the table and strode over to him, carefully grasping his arms in order to stop his frantic pacing. “I know you didn't! I believe you!” she cried with compassion. “I believe you!”

  His look of distress did not lessen and she wasn't sure if he could even comprehend her words. She rubbed his arms in a soothing motion in hopes of helping him calm down.

  “Since you didn't shoot him, then why are you running?”

  Evan released a shaky sigh. “Because I was scared.”

  “Of what?”

  He broke away from her and walked over to the chair with his jacket draped over it. He reached inside to dig within its hidden pocket and pulled out a small bag. She knew immediately what it was, cocaine.

  “It was a drug deal that went really wrong,” he admitted in a trembling whisper.

  She was stunned into silence. Yet she felt an odd mixture of both relief and extreme worry at the same time. Relief because she really believed that he would never hurt her. He really wasn't a killer. Worry because his troubles were not only serious, they were grave.

  She refused to pass judgment on him, though. He needed a friend right now and she intended to be there for him in every way possible. She caught herself before she impulsively asked if he was a drug dealer. A whimper escaped her instead.

  He sat upon the edge of the bed and stared at the floor with morose. “I can't imagine what you think of me now.”

  “All I'm thinking is how I can possibly help you,” she said with sincerity.

  He shook his head, biting his lower lip in order to prevent the sob that rose to the surface from spilling past his lips. “You can't help me. No one can help me now.”

  Jaime sat down upon the chair, a pensive look crossing her lovely features. He could see the wheels inside of her pretty head working to make sense of the situation. Despite his melancholy, it made him smile.

  “Nope,” he whispered. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “There is something I can do to make things a little better for you,” she spoke up softly. “I will tell them that you didn't kidnap me. I'll tell them you never laid a hand on me.”

  He smiled with thanks. It had been one of his objectives, to make her become a willing and sympathetic victim. He had succeeded in one thing, at least.

  “Do they even know who they're looking for?” she wondered.

  “I'm sure they do by now. My so-called friend was injured, so he wasn't able to get away. I'm sure he's told them all about me,” Evan said with resentment.

  She shuddered with fear. Unable to help herself, she asked, “Is this why you're so rich? Are you a drug dealer?”

  He chuckled lightly as sadness filled him. “No, Sweetheart. I was buying, not selling. I was helping him. I don't even . . . I don't even use it.”

  To Jaime's incredulity, Evan covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. She had never seen a man do so before. They were helpless, uninhibited tears and they were completely heart-wrenching.

  She jumped to her feet and rushed over to him, pulling him into her arms and holding him tightly to her. She cradled his head against her chest and offered him the comfort he needed. Tears overwhelmed her as she listened to him cry.

  She stared at the bag of cocaine that lay upon the bed beside him. Anger filled her as she thought about the fact that the little bag was the root of all their troubles. Granted, she wasn’t angry at him. It irked her that the nasty white powder was the reason he would be taken away from her once everything was said and done.

  Never-the-less, she also realized the incredible irony of the entire situation. Because of what had happened, it was also the reason she’d met the love of her life in the first place. If it hadn't been for that horrendous drug, that failed deal, and that brutal murder, she would have never felt the way she felt now. She would have never fallen so deeply and passionately in love. Yet she could not deny that life was so agonizingly cruel and heartless, at times.

  “I'm sorry, Jaime,” he sobbed as she pulled away to gaze down at him. He wa
s wiping his tears away with his fists like a sweet little boy. “I didn't mean to lose it like this.”

  “It's alright,” she whispered, tenderly caressing his hair. She kissed the top of his head several times. “It's alright.”

  Soon, it became apparent that he felt embarrassed about his moment of weakness. He rubbed at his runny nose and stood up, forcing her to let go of him. He sniffed back the last of his tears. “We should hit the road. Get dressed.”

  As she hurried into the bathroom to do just that, Evan walked inside without knocking. She watched as he poured the contents of the little bag into the toilet and flushed it away. Thousands of dollars worth of that white powder was gone within the blink of an eye. They exchanged sad glances without saying a word, knowing just how much things had changed between them.

  CHAPTER 31

  Breakfast was a silent affair. She sensed that he wasn’t completely 'with' her that morning. His earlier confession had made him begin to question his fate again, so she kept her thoughts and questions to herself. She made sure that he was aware of the fact that she was available if he needed to talk whenever possible.

  She found herself wanting to hear his voice, however. She wanted him to feel at peace and happy again like he’d been at the park the day before. Deep inside, she realized that she would do anything for him now if it meant that it would make his life any easier. That included leaving him if it meant that it would make things better for him in the long run. If it meant that she’d end up dying for him, if it ever really came to that, she’d do that, too.