by Kitty Cox
"I gotta get my shit together," Chance groaned. "F5 is coming soon. After that, the spotlight will be on. I have got to clean up my shit. If the world finds out I'm fucked up..."
"Flawed," Braden reminded him. "We got your back. Pretty sure the community won't think shit of a man that can actually get laid. Keeping Dez clean is a little more of a priority."
"What about her freaking out? I need her at F5."
"I'll make sure she's fine. I know you two will be working different circuits, but I'll make sure no one touches her."
"I'm gonna owe you," Chance said.
Braden shrugged. "Just let me try to fix my shit before you fire me. I'm the weakest coder on the team, and I know it. I'm learning though, man. Dez has been gaming with me, and she's helping put it all together. I just really want to have a chance at this job."
"Firing you is Dez's call. I already told her that. I'll just chew your ass."
"Thanks." Braden shifted the ice again. "And I'm gonna hit on the new girl. Just like all the other guys in here."
"Well, I can tell you she likes them big and muscular." Chance grabbed Braden's bicep and squeezed. "I think you're built better than her last one."
"You," Braden said softly, "are a tease."
"Yeah," Chance told him. "I am. You still like it."
"Getting your kicks?"
The grin on Chance's face was boyishly devious. "Oh yeah. When are you gonna let the rest of them know?"
"That's the thing. I don't care if they do, but finding the way to break it? Yeah, that's always awkward. I say I fuck men, then they have to find a way to say that's ok, and it's just odd."
"Want me to mention it offhandedly?"
"Might be easier. I just figure the Flawed team is done with secrets."
"Yeah," Chance breathed, realizing that was why he felt so comfortable with them. No shame.
Braden reached up and brushed a lock of red hair from his temple. "And you need to see the trailer. We're all kinda feeling warm and fuzzy from it, but you ruined the surprise with your bitch."
"Not my bitch," Chance told him again.
"Right." Braden was grinning. "You would have fucked her, and let Dez watch. I know how this works."
"Would rather just kiss Dez."
"She wants to. She's just so damned scared she's going to screw up." Braden looked up to the door to his apartment. "Moving her up there, right in front of Amy? I think that was the reassurance she needed. Dez acts tough, but she's not. She needs you, Chance. She needs you to prove that she's worth caring about, but you're gonna have to take a few risks with her to prove it. Let her fail, then keep loving her, and it will help more than anything else."
Chance nodded slowly, realizing he was probably right. "I just don't ever want her to be hurt again. I know enough to know it was really bad."
"And she is not her past. It shaped her, but it doesn't own her."
Chapter 21
Gavin ran out for drinks while the girls cleaned up – mostly soda, plenty of beer, and a couple bottles of liquor to mix. He got back just before the pizza. Jeff took care of that, but it took three of them to carry it all into the shop. They cracked open the boxes and were digging in like true guys – even Samantha – when a giggle floated down from above.
Chance turned and saw both ladies walking down the stairs. Dez was still in her tight clothing from the photo shoot. Amy wore a pair of loose jeans, her own boots, but her shirt was one Dez had loaned her. Just a small tank, it left a line of skin showing between her jeans and the shirt. Chance hadn't expected that. He'd figure Dez would put her in a turtleneck or something. His eyes moved back to his girl, and he let them roam. Amy might be thicker and taller, but there was something about Dez that he just couldn't get enough of.
Then he realized she was looking back. With a smile, he turned back to the group. "So, does this mean I can see the cover art yet?"
"First trailer's done, too," Tim said, leaning back in his chair.
Chance chuckled. "Does this mean I can see the first trailer now?"
"Yep," Andy said. "Had to wait for the star, though. Queen of the Flawed, you know."
"Fuck off," Dez told them, moving to stand by Chance. "Hey, you take anything?"
"Advil. I'm good, kid."
"Don't bullshit me, Dad."
He patted a spot on the desk beside him. "Gonna watch the movie with me?" He looked at her. "Gonna eat something?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Sucker?"
"Pizza, then alcohol?"
Braden leaned back. "Don't make me take you out back, Dez."
"Ok, a small piece."
Amy was watching the conversation. "Trying to watch your figure or something?" she asked.
Sam grabbed a piece of pizza and carried it over to Dez. "Getting sober fucks you up sometimes. Dez is trying real fuckin' hard."
Amy looked between them all."Drunk?"
"Vicodin," Dez said. "It's an opiate, tends to screw up the guts, makes me want to puke instead of eat. That's what we gave you to make the aches hurt less. I used to take two about every four hours. I'm down to one every ten. You took a half." She shrugged. "Coming back to reality hasn't exactly been easy."
Mark nodded at her. "Tough, huh? And you're charging in like a rhino. Ok, we ready for show time?"
"Yes!" Chance said. "Please tell me the pictures came out well?"
They all smiled. Jeff jogged to the wall and turned off most of the lights while Sam ran a cable from the closest computer to the large TV screen they'd placed before the whiteboard. Tim waited until they'd all claimed a chair, Amy taking one that Braden had pulled beside him. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he hit a key.
A very professional splash of the company logo sprawled across the screen before the whole thing faded to black. Slowly, the video began to fade in, showing a darkened room, lines of LED lit computers along each side. It was the Deviant Games server room, but with the spotlights, it looked futuristic, like an underground hideout. Deep, ominous music played in the background, and from the darkness, a slim woman in tight black clothing walked forward.
It was Dez. She stepped into the light and bent over the table, her palms pressed against it. Tattoos colored her arms and chest, hinting at more, her piercings glinted in the light.
"My name is Destiny Pierce," she said, looking right into the camera. "Three years ago, I was one of them... almost. I did everything right. I was a good girl: pretty, intelligent, and perfect. I was every mother's dream, but it still wasn't good enough, because I dared to speak my mind." A close-up of the scar in one of her tattoos flickered in, like a bad connection. "They found me in a parking garage. For sixteen days I was held prisoner." Another flash of a different tattoo. "I got too close and they were going to make sure I could never succeed."
The camera moved to her eyes, and she blinked before looking back, defiance gleaming deep inside. "They cut the skin from my body. They hung me from the ceiling and beat me – both with fists and objects. When I started begging, they raped me. Twenty-four times, strangers had their way with my body, but the blindfold kept them completely anonymous. They took everything from me and left me flawed."
With another blink, her eyes dropped as the camera panned out. This time, the flickered overlay was a side shot, showing her arm. Dez took a deep breath. "For years, I thought I was alone. I thought I'd been punished." She looked up again. "I thought I was worthless." She paused. "I hid from the world, unable to stand the touch of another human. I still wake screaming from the nightmares."
Her chest rose with another breath, proving that the monolog wasn't as easy as it looked. "I am flawed, and I thought that meant I was worthless. I hid from society, trying to suffocate myself in technology. Computers became my only friends. I learned to speak to them... and they spoke back. Then, buried in the network, I realized I wasn't the only one."
The camera pulled back. From the side, Braden stepped into the light. His chest was bare and smooth. He walked beside Dez and leaned arou
nd her, bearing his weight on one hand. The tattoo across the back of it was easily legible.
"My name is Braden Mathis. My whole life, I was told that I'm too stupid to be good at anything. The only thing going for me is my size." He smiled cruelly. "I decided that gave me a purpose. If the world wouldn't stand up for me, then I'll stand up for it. I may not be good for much, but I can protect those who need it. I can fight, and I can win. I just don't know how to stop." He turned slightly, framing Dez. "I am flawed."
From the left, a pale, lean man stepped forward. Jeff, like Braden, wore no shirt. He leaned around Dez, bracing on the table, but his posture exposed his back and the jagged word along the scar that ran beside his spine. He tilted his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder.
"My name is Jeff Hallen. I was born twisted and deformed. In order to survive, I tried every medical treatment possible. I know them all, but none worked. I looked like a monster. The world was scared of me, but my battered body was too weak to be a threat. All I had for defense was my mind. I learned to heal. I learned how to stop the pain." He smiled. "And then I found a way to untwist my body. My spine is straight, but my soul is still rent. I am flawed."
The camera shifted again, refocusing on Dez. A smile played on her lips but anger lingered in her eyes. "I thought I was alone. I almost gave in, until I found them. First one, then another, then more." Her lips spread, revealing a look that was half loving, half threatening.
The camera pulled back, showing shadows shifting behind them. The rest of the development team began to move into the scene. Sam, dressed like Dez, draped herself across Braden. A temporary tattoo of the logo accented the scar on her cheek. Tim moved to stand by Jeff, another temporary tattoo on his ample – and bare – belly. He casually dropped a hand on the scrawny kid's shoulder, completely comfortable with the contact.
Dez kept speaking. "They tried to break us. They tried to say we weren't good enough."
Andy stood behind Dez, the tattoo across his forehead for his manic depression. Flynn claimed the other side, his mark on a scar near his shoulder.
She leaned forward. "They. Were. Wrong. We are flawed. We are all flawed." And still more people moved forward until their marks were lost to the dimness of the light. Dez took a deep breath and stood straight. "Together, we are strong. Together, we matter. Together, we are no longer alone."
The light flickered as if the power was flailing. The darkness held the official game logo, growing brighter with each flash until it took over the screen as the lights went out.
Dez's voice filled the void. "They can't stop us now."
Then the photo for the box cover burst onto the screen. In the bottom corner were the words, "Flawed, coming soon from Deviant Games."
Tim leaned over and pressed another button, but the room was silent. Jeff, smiling proudly, made his way back to the lights. "Well?" he asked.
Chance sat there with his mouth open. "Holy shit," he breathed. He turned his arm and looked down at his tattoo. "Holy fucking shit."
"Amy?" Braden asked, leaning toward her. "Would you be hyped for that game?"
The entire team turned to look at her, and she nodded. "Definitely sci-fi. You're going to have hackers, fighters, and healers. Probably a few other non-traditional classes too, right?"
"Dunno, it's still on a board. But would you play it?"
She nodded again, looking at Chance. "Yeah. That's what I was talking about. That's the community thing. It makes me feel like if I played, I could be a part of something bigger. It also makes me feel like it's ok to be a little fucked up." She shrugged. "But not cool to pull out Destiny's name like that."
They all laughed softly, a few shaking their heads. Chance looked at Dez. "You really want that out there?"
"Yeah." She scooted closer to him. "You said you'd protect me, and so did Braden. I think I'm ready."
"Wait," Amy breathed. "You're really..."
"Destiny Pierce, Dez for short." She shrugged. "The story is true. Well, all of them. Everyone keeps making games based in fantasy. We're making one based on reality. The guys call me the Queen of the Flawed." She tugged at her shirt, showing the tattoo. "It's been three years, but I'm still kinda learning how to be ok. That's why I'm an addict. I kept hoping it would kill me, until Chance gave me, well, a chance."
"Hey," he said softly. "I'm proud of you. Come closer." She did and he lifted his arm, begging her to let him touch her. With a smile, she nodded, and he brushed her short hair back from her brow. "You know they'll start the threats again, right?"
"Yeah. You know I'll get all freaked about leaving the shop, right?"
"Either Braden or I will be with you anytime you have to."
Mark nodded. "Or the rest of us. Dez, if we do this, the whole team has your back."
"They didn't catch them?" Amy asked.
Dez shrugged. "Got five. I'm pretty sure there were more than that."
"What happened?"
Dez had never told the whole team. She'd given them just enough to understand, but she'd never told them the story. While Chance knew more, even he only had the most basic idea of the pain she'd gone through. Amy's question was the final straw. Chance could see it in her eyes as she decided, and from the silence in the room, so could the rest of them.
"I had a week left of high school. Electronic Arts wanted to interview me for a position, so I flew down for a long weekend. Rented a car and drove to their headquarters." She was looking at the floor, but a tiny smile touched her lips. "I nailed it, too. They were drooling all over themselves to get me on the development team. With a promise of a job as soon as I had my high school diploma and turned eighteen, I walked out the front of the building, around the side," she took a breath, "and into this public parking garage."
"Take your time," Sam said softly.
Dez's head bobbed once in acknowledgment, and she licked her lips. "I was maybe fifty feet from my car. My keys were in my hand. I remember that he had on white running shoes. They were so white they had to be new, and then I couldn't see. I think it was a couple of pillow cases or something. I struggled, but there were at least two. One of them smacked me around pretty good, and when I screamed, someone covered my mouth. Inside the bag. I felt like I was suffocating, so I just focused on struggling free.
"Then I was in a truck or van for a long time, and then they carried me into a warehouse. It smelled really damp and old. Sounds echoed. I could just see around the edges of my blindfold, but only like the ground. They hung my hands above my head, so I had to tip toe or cut off the circulation. By the third day, I thought my arms would have to be amputated."
Chance bit his lips together, wishing he could just hold her close. "They understand if you stop," he whispered.
Her eyes looked up at him. "I know, but I'm ready."
"It's always your call."
"Yeah." She took a long deep breath, her eyes dropping back to the ground. "Every day, they came by and told me to never touch a game again. They said to stop thinking about them, stop talking about them, stop blogging about them. I needed to get my ass in the kitchen, and all those other things you hear. On the second day, when I kept telling them to fuck off, they started hitting me. On the third day, someone decided that a knife was easier. Halo was first. Then it was EverQuest, right across the lower back. Oh, that hurt."
"Halo?" Amy whispered to Braden.
"Her tattoos," he explained, tapping his shoulder. "They cover the scars."
"Yeah. Except Pac Man." Dez patted her leg. "By the fourth day, they started getting pissed at each other. One dared another to do something, and back and forth. Eventually one of them said, 'you're a fag.' Yeah, lots of whining about who was and wasn't, and then they realized that it would be so easy to prove. I was hanging right there, like a waiting slab of meat."
Amy sucked in a breath. "Oh god," she whispered.
"They had to drop me from the ceiling for the blow jobs," Dez said, her voice emotionless.
"That's not a blow job,"
Braden told her. "That's rape."
Dez nodded, but her eyes were focused on the past. "Dunno what else to call it, though. I mean, dick in my mouth, you know? I bit the first one. That's how I got Doom. Zelda came when they tried to tie me back up. They didn't bother dressing me again. I mean, they'd cut through my clothes, so, yeah. For the next thirteen days, I was like one of those inflatable punching bags. The more scared they got that they'd get caught, the worse my life was. After the tenth day, I started thinking that if I pushed them enough, I could make them end it. It didn't work."
"How'd you get free?" Sam asked.
Dez shook her head. "I didn't. Blog reader named Soul_Reaper had been keeping screens of the crap. After I went missing, he posted that he had them and would turn them over to police, and how to get in touch with him. They did, and the server records led to a cell phone which led to the area, which ended up with cops checking the building. The guys would leave me alone all night – so they could go home, I guess. But when I heard feet, I started to panic, and the officer heard me."
"You ever find Soul_Reaper?" Chance asked.
She shook her head. "Couldn't look. The internet saved me, but it also damned me. I just couldn't look at my blog again." Her dark eyes met his, begging for understanding.
He nodded. "When you're ready, I'll help. You just have to ask, Sugar."
She pressed her head against his arm, a rare enough thing, but all the more precious because he knew she was scared. "I'm trying."
"Step by step," he whispered. "You're not alone. We're not alone."
She gestured at the screen. "And I want everyone else who has been treated like this to know it. I want every girl gamer who has been told to get back in the kitchen or every guy who says he'll rape someone, thinking it's a joke, to know that we are very real."
Amy leaned forward, her eyes on Dez. "They'll still send you emails. It'll be on the forums. Standing up will only make them scream louder. This isn't going to be easy."
Dez turned to look at her. "I know. You going to help?"