by Rose Croft
Kenzie said she’d walk me to class taking her job of being by my side seriously, which I genuinely appreciated.
“I’ll be fine. You don’t have to do this. I know you don’t have class for another hour.” Usually she was barely awake when I was walking out the door.
She gathered her backpack at the foot of her twin bed. “I don’t mind. Besides, I told Justin I’d meet him at the library to study.”
We left and made it down the three flights of stairs and breezed out the main door. As soon as I stepped outside in the bright sunlight, I saw Roman standing at the bottom of the steps leaning against the concrete wall. He was wearing a black hoodie with the word Falcons written in red across his chest and black track pants.
If I stopped to talk to him, I might punch him in the face. And I swore I wouldn’t cause myself any more embarrassment. Instead, I breezed past him, but he reached out, clasping my arm, pulling me back.
“Let go of me.”
“We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t.” I yanked my arm away from him.
“You have a lot of nerve doing what you did the other night,” Kenzie rushed out in a condescending voice and furiously clicked on her phone, trying to show him one of the posts. “Theo didn’t deserve that.”
“Who are you again?”
“I’m Kenzie, jerk, Justin’s girlfriend.” She kept swiping through her phone. Her forehead creased together. “Where are the pics?”
“They’re gone.” Roman stared at me without emotion. “All of them.”
“Really?” her voice squeaked in disbelief beside me.
He nodded once, still gazing at me. “Do you mind leaving us, Kennedy?”
She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. I would mind. I don’t think she needs to be alone with you, and my name is Kenzie. K-e-n—”
“I’m not holding auditions for a spelling bee.”
“Well, I’m not leaving her side.”
“I just want to walk her to class and talk in private, not take her behind the building and fuck her.”
“Jeez,” my friend breathed out while I stared daggers at him.
“Come on.” I laced my arm in Kenzie’s and propelled her forward.
Roman followed beside us. “It’s okay if you really want Kenzie to hear our conversation. I don’t mind, but you might.”
I did mind since Roman was predictable in his unpredictability. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted to say, but I knew he would try to put me in my place when he thought he was losing any ground. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe talk is overrated. You sure as fuck were at a loss for words the other night when I touched—”
I slapped my palm over his mouth before he could elaborate. Kenzie made another shocked noise.
“I hate you.” I mouthed at him and felt his lips curl under my palm, and his eyes gleamed with something other than disinterest. Roman thrived on getting a rise out of me. Wetness pierced my skin as his tongue traced a path along a seam in my palm. His audacity knew no bounds.
“You know, you’re disrespecting Taylor by stalking my friend,” Kenzie had obviously put her shock aside and piped up. Which was a good thing, a reminder I needed to get my act together around him, not get caught up in this test of wills with him. I jerked my hand away, wiping it over my jeans. Wiping every trace of him away.
Roman twisted his head dispassionately at my friend. “You know, I don’t give a fuck what you think. You don’t know shit.”
Kenzie opened her mouth and closed it, glaring at Roman like he was a lowlife. Then Justin appeared miraculously at her side, kissing her on the cheek. “Hey, babe.” Her sour face turned sweet within seconds. He reached out his fist to Roman. “S’up?” He nodded at me.
We were standing on the sidewalk, blocking the other students who walked around us in the grass. I then heard, “Damn, stage five clinger with this girl, huh Roman?” I shot my head in the direction of the voice, and some guy with a decent build and light brown hair smirked as though he and Roman shared an inside joke. The douchebag held his hand close to his ear like he was holding a cell phone and said to me, “Call me. I ain’t ashamed to take sloppy seconds.” He made a show of scanning his eyes down my body. “Don’t blame you for tagging that ass on the side.”
Before I could respond, Roman had the guy in a chokehold shoved up high above him until he slammed him against a tree. His eyes bugged out as he gasped, “It was a joke, man.”
Roman’s face was lethal, as he continued squeezing and Justin, Kenzie, and I rushed to his side, trying to get him off this guy before he killed him. “Dude, stop. It’s not worth it.” Justin’s hands were prying at Roman’s wrists that weren’t budging. “Oh my God. He’s crazy!” Kenzie screamed out.
“Come on. You want to get kicked off the team? Go to jail?” Justin reasoned. “Don’t do this.”
The guy’s face was a deep shade of red, and the fear of Roman choking him to death was real.
I dug my fingers into his bulging bicep. “Roman, let him go!” I yanked with all my might, finally gaining his attention. “What did you expect when you tried to publicly embarrass me the other night? He was just following your lead.”
Roman’s eyes raised a fraction, his chest expanded and contracted, and his grip relented as the guy slid limply against the tree. He was fighting to suck in air. “What the fuck, bro?” He gasped, but my eyes were drawn to Roman who looked like he might kill a whole army. “I thought we were team mates. I didn’t know—”
“Get the fuck out of my sight. If I ever see you around her, I will kill you.”
The guy was still rubbing his neck and his breathing was labored.
“Go, Matt.” Justin led him off before something else happened. “I’ll see you at practice.”
Kenzie was still wide-eyed, looking at Roman as though he were insane, but she turned and followed Justin who I assumed was doing damage control for Roman. Because everyone seemed to fall in line wherever Mr. Eighty-Seven was concerned.
“I’m late for class.” I started off wanting to get away before more attention came around, but his hand was on my shoulder halting me.
“Fuck class.”
“Roman, please. You’ve already done enough.”
He reached out and touched my cheek. “I don’t know why I can’t control myself when I’m around you, Corazón. You said you hate me, but I don’t believe it.”
“Don’t.”
He tilted his head and his hand still lingered on my face; his thumb touched my lower lip. “I can’t stop.”
His words were simple and short, yet it hit me straight in the heart. But his actions left me bewildered. “What is it you want from me?”
“Everything,” he whispered, and there was something flashing in the depths of his eyes. “Every. Fucking. Thing.”
Theodora
A piercing yelp startled me as I stood with my hand on the industrial size refrigerator in the Martinez’s kitchen. I’d come downstairs to get a bottle of water after several hours spent studying in my room. Another muffled cry echoed in the near distance, outside, which definitely sounded more human than animal-like. Goose bumps pricked my skin like a sudden rash, and I released the handle and shuffled my way closer to the sliding back door that led out back. I peered through the glass, scanning the pool area shroud in deep hues of blackish periwinkle as the darkness threatened to take over until dawn.
When my eyes adjusted, I saw a tall figure clothed in black with a ski mask hovering over someone in a lounger. Then I saw the strands of blond hair.
“Mom!” I shouted and worked the handle, shoving the door wide, running toward her. Before I could reach my mother, an arm encircled my waist ensnaring me in a steel grip. “Mom!” I croaked as fingers were cutting off my windpipe. I dug my nails into the gloved hands, trying to fight for air.
But the grip was relentless, and my eyes bulged.
“You and your whore mother
are going to die tonight.” I felt the rush of lightheadedness, and the gravelly male voice was both alien to me and yet something seemed familiar in the tone. With all my might, I kicked out over and over and soon fell to the ground after landing a kick to his groin. I crawled backward on my hands and heels of my feet until I forced myself to my feet, making a move to the house. I heard gasps a few feet away as my mom struggled. I needed to get help. Roman’s father was out of town on business. Where was Roman? Or Antoni?
“Roman! Antoni!” I yelled desperately praying they’d respond.
Before I made it back to the door, I heard words murmured threateningly behind me, but I didn’t know what the voice said. Then I was tackled from behind and with my arms out in front of me, I felt the hard impact on my wrist and the loud shatter of glass…
I shot up, my pulse throbbed, vibrating in my ears, but all I heard was the distant tweets of crickets in the night. My hand instinctively fell to my arm, expecting to feel the slick wetness of blood and sharp pain, but I didn’t. Only the smooth ridge of my scar. I inhaled slowly trying to get my bearings, realizing I ’d had the same recurring nightmare I normally had. It usually happened if I hadn’t slept well for several days, I would finally fall into a deep sleep and that’s when the nightmares appeared.
I flicked on the lamp beside me and glanced across the room to find an empty bed again. Kenzie was staying over at Justin’s more and more. Roman was right, I acknowledged in my head. After that fateful night when I’d almost died, I was afraid of the dark. I didn’t remember anything after falling through the glass, but I ended up in the hospital. My brachial artery near my elbow had been severed, and I’d suffered other minor cuts and bruises. If Roman hadn’t found me when he did and took me to the emergency room, I could’ve bled out.
He’d shown up right after it happened. Said he’d had a late practice and when he came in through the garage, he heard glass shatter. He said no one was there. Just me lying on the floor and my mom was semi-conscious in the lounger by the pool with bruises on her face and neck.
I reached out and checked my phone. It was four in the morning. I sighed and scrolled through Instagram, searching to find any evidence of Roman and I from the other night, but like he said, there was nothing. Clicking on my profile, I realized all the pictures I was tagged in were now blank. Sighing in relief, I set my cell aside. I wanted privacy and didn’t mind living under the radar. Unfortunately, Roman was trying to ruin all of that. My phone buzzed.
Unknown: Although I had everything taken down, I had to save this picture of us.
What the hell? It was the picture of Roman devouring me. Why was he texting now? Why did he have my number? I’d changed my number from the past. Was it even him? I tossed my phone aside as though it burned my fingers. A few minutes later my phone jumped when another text came through.
Unknown: You’re not going to talk to me? I see your light on. I know you’re not asleep.
I gasped and rubbed my arms, wondering how he had my number and why he was out and about at this time. I thought about ignoring him, but I couldn’t stop my burning curiosity.
Me: How do you have my number?
Roman: ;)
I was semi-creeped out; however, I shook my head and clicked off my lamp, willing myself to go to sleep.
Friday afternoon, I was working at Duffey’s after class. The place had been around for thirty years and it showed with wood paneling and faded photos plastered around the walls with Falcon memorabilia and yellowed posters of ancient football schedules sprinkled in as well. A large bar littered with old wooden barstools set in the middle of the small restaurant and flat screens were mounted above on every wall with any sport you could imagine. The air permeated with grease, beer, and the never-ending musky smell of an old establishment.
The place was half-full being in between the lunch and dinner crowd. However, more students were coming in as class ended. Some migrated to the bar for drinks, some ordered buckets of beer and settled near a pool table or dart board, while others drifted to booths ordering pitchers of beer and appetizers.
Dropping off some hot wings to one of the bar top tables, I shuffled over to the bar to put in another drink order. After I waited and watched, our manager/bartender Chris mixed drinks and set out some draft beers for me to take to one of the booths. When I loaded up my tray, he nodded over to a booth in the far corner. “Theo, you got a new one over there.”
“On it.” I whisked off with the tray and took the drinks to the booth of four guys, setting them down. They looked like typical frat boys with their affiliation on their tees.
After getting that table settled, I folded my tray under my arm and approached the booth in the back. “Hi. Welcome to Duffey’s—”
Roman sat with hands folded on the table, staring at me with an insolent expression. “Theodora.” He scanned his eyes slowly down my fitted T-shirt with the pub’s logo across my boobs, over the sliver of skin showing between the hem of my shirt and waistband of my black shorts, lower to my bare legs until he reached my shoes stripping me with his eyes. He eventually made it back up to my face.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to have a beer and a burger.”
“Isn’t it game day tomorrow?”
“We’re off this weekend.” He leaned into my space hooking a finger under the fabric of my tee and pulled causing me to stumble closer to him. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
No shit. Yes, for the sake of my sanity, I thought and chewed on my cheek tugging the hem away as I stepped back. For most of the week, I’d taken different paths to classes and shown up late, making sure wherever he was I wasn’t, always a comfortable space away from him. He’d spotted me across the auditorium each time, and this morning, I thought he’d actually get up in the middle of the lecture and stalk over to where I was, but he didn’t. “I have not. I’ve had a crazy schedule this week.”
He chuckled. “You’re such a liar.”
“Not everything is about you,” I said with exasperation.
“No. It’s about us.”
“There is no us.” I blew a strand of hair out of my face glancing around at my other tables. “If you didn’t come here to eat, then leave.”
“I did come here to eat. Now that I know you work here, I’d like to eat and spend time with you since you owe me for all the hours in class you avoided me.” He patted the spot beside him. “Join me,” he commanded as if I had nothing better to do than be his source of entertainment.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Are you insane? I’m working right now. And I owe you nothing.”
“Is that what you think?” He sat up straighter and tapped his knuckles on the shellacked wood. “Tell you what. I’m going to give you five minutes to take care of your tables and make a decision.”
I rolled my eyes at whatever he was proposing. I wasn’t willing to put my newfound job in jeopardy to play his stupid games. “I’ll find someone else to serve you.”
“If you walk away, I’ll pull you in my lap and finish what we started in my Jeep the other night.” He leaned in closer. “You know I will.”
Clenching the tray tighter, I considered bashing him over his head yet suddenly the temperature in the pub seemed to shoot up by at least twenty degrees. Seeing the determined look in his eye, he seemed quite serious about making good on his threat. “You know you sound like an overbearing jerk.”
“You know I don’t give a shit,” he quipped without batting an eye.
“Fine.” I inhaled trying to remain calm, but I couldn’t control the sarcasm in my voice. “And what decision would that be?”
“Either you can spend the afternoon with me, with your job still intact, or you can spend the afternoon with me and be unemployed. Your choice.”
I scoffed. “You truly have lost it. My shift doesn’t end for another four hours, and I’m not going anywhere with you. And threatening me about my job?” I questioned in disbelief. “I’l
l have the manager kick you out for harassment.”
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “You keep throwing that word around.” He gazed at me, not worried one bit. “You really think the manager will make me leave?”
“I know he will. He doesn’t tolerate unruly idiots bothering the waitstaff. He’s kicked people out for a lot less than what you’re doing to me right now.” What I said was true. Chris didn’t tolerate patrons disrespecting his employees. At least, I didn’t have to worry about drunk college douchebags treating me with disrespect. The same went for Roman. I was too busy patting myself on the back to notice how his expression didn’t change in the slightest.
“Unruly idiots,” he mused as he ran his finger against his shadowed jaw. “In that case, I think we should skip the first proposal and go double or nothing.”
“Roman.” I peered over my shoulder in exasperation, seeing Chris watching us. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to work.”
“I gave you five minutes, but you decided to stand here and threaten me. If anyone should be kicked out, it’s you for terrible customer service skills.”
“I did not threaten you.” Oh my God, this man was going to drive me to kill him. I had more to say but let it go because this was a never-ending conversation into Crazy Town. “What did you mean by double or nothing?”
“Oh, I’m glad you asked.” His voice was patronizing and my arms curled around the tray, bringing it close to my chest like a shield. He smirked as he watched me. “I think you’ll like this deal. It’s definitely in your favor if what you say is true. You get the manager and tell him I’m harassing you, and if he kicks me out, then I’ll leave you alone, permanently. But, if he doesn’t…” He reached out and ghosted his hand over my hip as though he was trying to see how far he could push limits. Or maybe he didn’t care one way or another. “You forfeit your position, spend the rest of the day with me, and have a good fucking attitude about it.”