Jude_Signature Sweethearts

by Kelsie Rae

  Silently, I nod my agreement before swinging the door open and effectively ending our conversation. I’m frustrated that people don’t take her seriously. That they don’t have more faith in her.

  I scan the bar area, searching for Quin, but she's nowhere to be seen. Frantically, I begin searching the surrounding vicinity. I still can't find her. My pulse ratchets into overdrive as anxiety engulfs me. Something's terribly wrong. Even though Quin was feeling comfortable enough to be alone at the bar for a short period of time, I know she would not feel confident enough to wander into this mess of strangers.

  I spot Marcus in the crowd, speaking with the rest of our teammates and two women who look vaguely familiar. I believe they were on stage after Game One earlier today.

  Rudely, I interrupt their conversation. “Sorry gents, have you seen Quin?”

  My question is greeted by a bunch of shaking heads.

  “Nope.”

  “I thought she was with you?”

  “Where is the woman of the hour? We need to celebrate!”

  I turn my attention to Marcus, my eyes portraying the seriousness of the situation. “I left her over there” —I point across the club— “about fifteen minutes ago. Will you help me find her?”

  “Yeah,” Marcus agrees before turning to the two ladies next to him. “Stay with Ronny and Jonah. Do not leave their sight.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. Marcus glares at his fellow teammates, silently warning them of the repercussions if something happens to either lady. Solemnly, they nod their heads and promise to keep a close eye on them.

  “Trev, we need you to help us find Q. You good with that?” Marcus turns to our Sniper.

  “Yeah, man,” Trevon answers before downing his pint and placing it on the bar to his left.

  Happy to have gained some help, I continue my search for Quin in earnest.

  The minutes tick by at a snail’s pace, while my heart races like a jackhammer.

  I'm clutching my mobile in my hand tightly as I repeatedly dial Quin to no avail. My eyes are still scanning the club when it vibrates in my sweaty palm. Marcus’ name flashes across the screen.

  Anxiously, I accept the call and place the speaker next to my ear.

  “Girl’s bathroom,” Marcus shouts through the muffled speaker. My feet are pounding against the cement flooring before my mind registers where they’re taking me. And what I might find.

  Trevon is blocking the door to the loo. His thick arms are folded across his chest, and his massive frame screams, “Bug off!” I slip past him, charge through the door, and halt at the sight in front of me.

  What I find will haunt me for the rest of my measly existence.

  Quin is a crumpled mess on the floor. The makeup she had carefully applied is running down her cheeks, her eyes glassy. Quin’s dress is wrinkled, and her legs are sprawled awkwardly against the white bathroom tile. Marcus is on the ground next to her, cradling her head in his lap as he checks the pulse in her slender wrist.

  My knees hit the tile in a reverberating thump as I slide next to him.

  “Is she alright?” I demand, dreading the answer.

  “How much has she had to drink?” Marcus ignores my own question and asks one of his own.

  “She had one drink when I was with her.”

  He nods his head solemnly. “I think she was drugged. We need to get her to a hospital. Now!”

  Trevon’s rough voice bounces off the walls. “Already called an ambulance. They’ll be here any minute.”

  I’m beyond grateful for his assertiveness, and that we won’t need to wait long before Quin receives the help she so desperately needs.

  She whimpers from her position on the floor. My gut tightens at the sound. “It’s alright, Kitten. I’m here,” I croon. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Her eyes open wide at the sound of my voice, frantically searching for its source, though her body struggles to cooperate.

  I grip the sides of her face with my hands and bring my forehead to hers. I’m leaning over Marcus’ lap, and it would be quite awkward in any other instance, but he understands the severity of Quin’s situation, so he doesn’t comment.

  A tear rolls down her cheek, and she squeezes her eyes shut tightly as if in pain. My breath mixes with her own as we wait for the ambulance to arrive.

  Chapter 25

  Quincy

  My head is pounding. I’ve never had a hangover before, but I can only assume this is what it feels like. Slowly, I open my eyes and squint at the bright lights which aggravate the ache in my skull.

  My heavy lids are nearly impossible to open, but I power through, blinking a few times before taking in my surroundings.

  “Where am I?” I croak. My mouth feels like the Sahara Desert.

  A dark head of hair is resting on my leg from a seated position. Before I’m able to piece together who it is, Jude’s head pops up at the sound of my voice. His glasses are askew, and his face has a red crease from the bedsheets. I might find it funny if I didn’t feel like my brain is about to explode.

  “Where am I?” I repeat, my throat still as rough as sandpaper.

  “You’re in a hospital,” Jude answers hesitantly. His chocolate-colored eyes scan me while taking note of every misplaced hair on my head.

  Self-consciously, I rub my hands over the mess while trying to tame my out-of-control locks.

  Jude gently grabs my arms, stopping them from continuing their hopeless task before intertwining our fingers and placing them in my lap.

  “Do you remember last night?”

  My frazzled brain tries to pull up last night’s activities, but the memories are fuzzy. “Not much,” I answer honestly. “But there’s gotta be a reason for me ending up in a flipping hospital. What happened?”

  “You were given Rohypnol when we were at the club to celebrate Game One. Do you remember that?”

  “Rohi-what?”

  “You were roofied, Kitten.”

  Images start to announce themselves as I slowly piece together what happened.

  “You had to talk to Jett,” I murmur. “And then….”

  I remember feeling pissed. And uncomfortable. “The Red Lords decided to congratulate me,” I scoff. “Chase was talking crap about Game One... then they left.” And I started to feel weird…. “Then I didn’t feel so good. So I went to the bathroom.” I try to grasp anything else. Any other details that my foggy brain can conjure, but I come up empty.

  “That’s it.” I shrug. “I don’t remember anything else.”

  “Did they give you a drink or anything?” Jude asks, his eyes pinning me in place.

  “No. I just had the cocktail you ordered for me.”

  “Did you drink any of it after Chase left you?”

  I shrug my shoulder in response. I have no idea.

  “Think, Quin. Do you remember? Did you see them put anything in your cocktail?”

  My mind digs deep, trying to grab any tiny detail that I might’ve missed. But they slip through my fingers like beach sand. “I don’t know. I don’t think so,” I answer. Defeat seeping into my tone.

  “Bollocks. I know it was them, the filthy bastards,” Jude growls. His anger is so potent, I can practically taste it on my dry tongue. Begrudgingly, he adds, “We can’t report them if you don’t remember.”

  I nod my head in response. “Could you get me a drink?” I plead, changing the subject since the previous one is only making my headache worse.

  “Of course, babe.” He reaches for a plastic cup of water and places it against my parched lips. Greedily, I drink it. The temperature is lukewarm, but it tastes better than anything I’ve ever had.

  “Slow down, Kitten. I don’t want you to upset your stomach,” Jude admonishes. He places the drink back on a side table before kissing my forehead affectionately.

  “What time is it?” My eyes search for a clock.

  “It’s still early.”

  We’re interrupted by a light knock on the door. I’m greeted with a v
iew of my teammates as they join us in the tiny hospital room.

  “Hey, Q,” Marcus says warmly. He’s smiling, but I can tell he’s worried about me by the subtle crease between his eyebrows.

  “I’m fine,” I try to reassure them. My eyes bounce from Marcus to Trevon then Ronny and Jonah.

  “What did Jett say?” Jude asks Marcus, though I have no idea what they’re talking about.

  “Other than the fact that you both missed that press conference announcing your relationship,” he looks pointedly between the two of us, “the League isn’t willing to postpone Game Two without proof that you were drugged unwillingly,” Marcus informs us, getting straight to the point.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that because no one saw you get drugged, they can’t postpone the game because you ‘had too much fun the night before,’” Trevon spits. Obviously, he’s disgusted by the outcome.

  “Does she remember anything?” Marcus addresses Jude, pretending I’m not even here.

  “She remembers The Red Lords paying a little visit, but after that her memories are scattered.”

  The guys all nod, their expressions somber.

  “So we forfeit Game Two. We’ll just kick their asses in Game Three. Not a big deal,” Ronny quips, like there isn’t five million dollars on the line.

  “Yeah. Piece of cake,” Jonah adds.

  “I have an idea,” I speak up, and all eyes turn to me. “What if Jude takes my spot?”

  “Pardon?” Jude demands, his face looking shocked.

  “You said you played Sneak, remember?”

  “Well yes, but—”

  I cut him off. “Then you can sub for me in today’s game.”

  It sucks I won’t be able to beat The Red Lords at their own game, but I’m glad the solution is so simple.

  “No,” Marcus says, bluntly. “Sorry, Jude. You’re a great player and all, but I want Quin on my team. I refuse to play with anyone else.” The rest of the group nods in agreement while my jaw is busy hanging off its hinges.

  “Are you guys for real right now?” I state. “Jude is a better Sneak than me any day of the freaking week. Especially after I’ve been drugged the night before and can barely remember my own name, let alone a series of complicated moves in order to compete in today’s game!”

  They all shrug their shoulders, not even deeming my declaration worthy of a response.

  Exasperated, I turn to Jude, praying he’ll knock some sense into them.

  “Come on, Jude. You know that’s a good idea.”

  “Sorry, Kitten. If you don’t play, no one does.”

  The guys grunt in agreement. My heart swells from the sound.

  I hesitate before answering as I scan the group of teammates that have slowly turned into family. “Then I guess I’m playing.”

  Now it’s their turn to pick their jaws up off the floor.

  “Pardon?” Jude repeats for the third time in fifteen minutes.

  “I said… ‘then I guess I’m playing,’” I reiterate. “I’m not going to let you guys down, and I can’t let those bastards get away with what they did!” The curse feels foreign on my tongue, but I know my dad would be swearing up a storm if he knew his little girl was hurt. Those bastards deserve to pay for what they did, even if it’s only by losing a computer game.

  “But you’re still recovering,” Marcus argues, concern dripping from his tone.

  “I’ll be fine. Pump me full of painkillers, get me another effing glass of water, and I’ll be good to go.” My rebuttal bounces right off Marcus but seems to land on Ronny and Jonah just fine. They rub their hands together with evil grins stretched across their faces. They like the idea of handing The Red Lords their butts on a silver platter.

  “Hell yeah!” they agree, excitedly.

  I look at Trevon and wait to see what he says. Everyone else’s eyes follow. “I’m in.”

  Now, if we can just get Marcus on board.

  He scratches the scruff on his jaw. The wheels turn in his head as he looks at the situation from all angles. Reluctantly, he agrees. “Let’s do it.”

  The next few hours are spent in a whirlwind of IV’s for hydration, paperwork for release, and prescriptions for my headache from hell.

  Chapter 26

  Quincy

  Deja vu hits me square in the chest. Only this time, it’s accompanied by a massive migraine. I’m surrounded by the same fans. And the same enemies. The lights are the same. The stage is the same. My seat is the same. The only difference is that I’m not here to play a game this time. I’m not here to prove to myself that I can do this. I’m here to prove to the jerks on the other team that I’m strong. Stronger than they could’ve ever anticipated. And I’m going to show them exactly what I’m capable of.

  Not for myself. But for every person out there who’s been bullied. Manipulated. Dragged through the mud. And made to feel like they’re less than what they really are.

  “Let’s do a quick roll call,” Marcus’ voice reaches me through the static.

  “Jonah?”

  “Here.”

  “Ronny?”

  “Yello.”

  “Trev?”

  “Here.”

  “Q?”

  “Let’s do this.”

  The game starts, and I’m injured within the first thirty seconds. Thankfully, I was hit with the shrapnel right after I found a Health Pack, so I’m able to rejuvenate without endangering a fellow teammate.

  The Red Lords are taking a different approach this game. Their plan seems to be pretty simple. Kill Quik_Q182 as quickly as possible. This tactic isn’t exactly original, but I’ve never seen it executed so forcefully. They’re leaving their base wide open, giving any one of my team members the opportunity to grab the gemstone and end the game within minutes. But my teammates are too stubborn to sacrifice me to the wolves. They agree with me. This game is about more than winning. It’s about proving our strength as a whole. We will rise above the ashes together. As a team.

  “What the hell are they doing?” Jonah asks, his voice containing a hint of confusion.

  “They’re trying to piss us all off,” Trevon mutters. He’s frustrated. Just like the rest of us.

  “It’s working,” I agree. My head is having a difficult time keeping up with the change in gameplay, and I’m scrambling to stay alive.

  “We need to protect Q,” Marcus states, leaving no room for argument, but I do it anyway.

  “No. You guys need to win the game. I’ll distract them since they apparently don’t care about winning, only about making me look like an idiot.”

  “No. You sacrificed yourself for Game One. They already know we’re the better team, or they wouldn’t have thrown in the towel the way they have. They’re playing with their tiny dicks, trying to make a girl feel inferior for playing their game. We’re not going to let that happen. Q is going to play her role as Sneak and infiltrate their base. We just need to figure out how.”

  During his little speech, shots are flying in every direction. I’m hiding beneath a garbage bin, my heart racing as if it were my life on the line instead of my avatar’s.

  “Jonah,” I call into the headset. An opportunity seems to be presenting itself.

  “Yeah?” he replies.

  “I have a wide open shot of their Tank.” My skills are too weak to take on a Tank by myself, but if Jonah and I switch places, he’ll be able to kill him in a few shots. Players are only allowed to perform this move three times per game, but this seems like a good time to use one.

  Marcus’ voice chimes in, “Switch. Now!”

  Jonah and I count down together, needing to push the same buttons at the same time in order to perform the Switch flawlessly. “In three, two, one.”

  Suddenly, I’m transported to the other side of the map as bullets blast through the speakers.

  “He’s down.”

  “Yes!” I cheer. I’m happy that the bastard who called me a sniveling bitch last night just h
ad his ass handed to him.

  “Ronny, where’s everyone?” Marcus asks.

  He quickly describes the game board and mentions that their Sniper is conveniently cloaking which is an instant red flag.

  “Trev, I need you in position of their base. We’re going to give them a little taste of their own medicine,” Marcus comments. He quickly explains the plan, and we’re in motion before he even finishes. Each of us moves in sync, preparing to implement Marcus’ plan to perfection.

  Marcus lets off a flash bomb which leaves their Operator blind. Jonah and I use our Doppelgänger, allowing Jonah to look like the Sneak, and I look like a Tank. Meanwhile, Trevon sets up position on the roof near their base that gives him a perfect view of anyone coming in or out of it.

  Ronny’s voice comes through the headset. “They’re scrambling. We have seven more seconds until their Operator can see. Everyone ready?”

  We all grunt our answers when Ronny notifies us that it’s go time.

  I power through the broken-down door frame that leads to their base, Marcus and Jonah following behind. It’s a risky move, considering one shot and I’ll be dead, but we’re hoping The Red Lords will be targeting Team AFK’s Sneak, who happens to look like Jonah right now. Shots fire from every direction.

  Ronny shouts, “Trevon just took out their Sneak! You have their Team Lead and Sniper in the building with you! We’ve got this!”

  I’d congratulate Trev’s efforts if I wasn’t so focused on not dying right now. I’m barreling over debris, trying not to get killed, while racing against the clock that will reveal my true identity. The Red Lords’ focus is solely on Jonah right now, but I know it won’t last much longer. He’s been hit at least twice and hasn’t gone down yet. We reach the room containing the gem when our Doppelgänger finally wears off. Jonah goes down, his wounds sucking the last of his health. Marcus uses his own body as a shield against our opponents while raining bullets at them. My fingers grasp the gemstone just as a tiny skull appears on the left side of my screen, letting me know that Marcus is dead, too.