Fair Play

by Madison, Dakota

  “That’s Big Fella,” he says.

  “Did Loose tell you how he got the name?” Big Fella asks.

  I shake my head.

  “After he got out of the pen, his ex said: Look what the state finally let loose. It just stuck.”

  So, not only am I in a scary biker bar, in the shittiest part of town, but I’m here with an ex-con. There’s so much wrong with this picture I’m completely overwhelmed by all of it.

  The last guy in their foursome is tall and thin and he’s got a crazed look in his eyes. I’m not sure if he’s amped up on drugs or just, for lack of a better word, crazy. I can see he’s got his fists balled tightly, like he’s trying his best to keep them under control.

  “That’s Snap,” Loose says and I think: I sure hope he doesn’t.

  The guys Loose lives with are beyond scary and I feel the need to escape this awful place and get back to my end of town. Does that mean I’m a Northie? Is there such a thing? I just know I don’t belong here.

  Loose’s roommates are ogling me like I’m raw meat and they’re starving lions.

  Scarface steps close to me and places his calloused hand on my face. As he moves his rough hand down my cheek, I feel my skin crawl and my stomach clenches tightly.

  I know I’m going to be sick.

  A bead of sweat runs down my face and Scarface wipes it off with his thumb.

  “Nervous?” he asks. His eyes are dark and lifeless. I get the feeling he may have killed the guy that did that to his face.

  I don’t respond. I just shoot a look at Loose, who is actually grinning. He’s got his arms resting over his chest and he’s leaning against the back wall like he’s enjoying the show.

  Scarface scans the length of my body and licks his raw, cracked lips. “Looks like you came here for a little action. We can show you a good time.”

  I gulp at his use of the word we.

  Scarface lets out a hard laugh. “Didn’t Loose tell you? We share everything.”

  Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into?

  The thought of being with four men at once is repulsive enough but the thought of being with these four guys makes me want to die.

  “No,” I say. And it’s not just in answer to his question. It’s no to everything these guys think is going to happen.

  The guys all laugh as if the word no is funny and that makes my stomach clench every tighter. Can I just have a heart attack and get it over with? Is that the only way I’ll be able to get out of this massive mistake of my own making?

  Scarface gets even closer to me. He’s so close, I can feel his stale breath on me. He smells like a mixture of cigarettes and beer.

  “We never had a girl like you before,” he says as he closes any space that was left between us.

  He has me pressed against the bar and I can feel his erection hard against me. The other guys are watching like it’s a show.

  When I look over at the bartender, a middle-aged guy with a moustache, he turns away like he doesn’t want to get in the middle of anything. A wave of panic overtakes me as I realize I’m on my own.

  I try to wriggle free but Scarface is big and muscular and wanting. The look in his eyes is so cold, it sends shivers through my body. I know if I don’t do something, fast, these guys are going to gang-rape me, or worse.

  So I use the only option available, I knee Scarface in the groin as hard as I can.

  “You fucking bitch,” he screams and he slaps me hard across the face before he grabs his crotch and goes down.

  My cheek stings with pain but I know there’s no time to worry about it. There are three more guys, who still want a piece of me and now they’re angry about what I did to Scarface.

  I make a move to escape but Big Fella grabs for me and manages to rip nearly the entire sleeve from the shoulder of my blouse. Snap tries to grab my other arm and I manage to wriggle free but not before that sleeve gets torn as well.

  I barely get away from the foursome when I run right into the massive guy with the tattoos, who was staring at me from down the bar. Standing, the guy is even bigger and more menacing than I estimated. My head is just barely to his chest.

  I think he might do something even worse than Loose’s roommates but instead, he stands between me and the foursome in a protective way.

  “I heard the girl say no,” he says to Loose and his friends.

  The four look like they do not want to mess with this massive guy. As big and tough as they are, this guy would swat them away like flies.

  “She’s going to walk out of here and you’re going to let her go.”

  Loose and his roommates all give the massive guy a nod of understanding.

  The massive guy leans down and whispers in my ear. “There’s a small convenience store down the block. It’s closed except for a walk up window where you can get cigarettes and gum—whatever will fit through the slit. Tell the guy you’re a friend of Massive Mike and that you need him to call a cab. Don’t try to call one yourself. You’ll never get one to come down here, especially not at night. He’ll be able to get one for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Just get out of here,” he replies. I don’t look back but I can feel the tension of a fight brewing as I hurry out the door.

  I tell the man at the convenience store window what I’ve been instructed and he calls me a cab without question. The way he looks at me, almost with horror, gives me the sense that I must look awful.

  The man instructs me to wait right in front of the window and not to move from that spot. I think it’s a little strange until I realize there are two cameras pointed right at me. He’s obviously worried for my safety and knows that no one will attack a girl with two cameras pointed directly at her.

  When the cab finally arrives and I feel like I’m headed towards safety, I let out a sob that doesn’t stop until we pull into the driveway of Evan’s condo.

  “Are you going to be okay?” the cab driver asks as I pay him.

  “I am now,” I tell him.

  He nods and pulls away.

  I take in a deep breath of fresh air then wonder why in the world I asked the driver to take me here, to Evan’s place.

  I think it’s because it’s the only place where I know I’ll feel absolutely safe—in Evan’s arms.

  But as I walk up to his door, I’m suddenly paralyzed with fear. What if doesn’t want to see me? What if he turns me away? What if he’s not alone? What if he has another girl with him?

  I feel like a complete idiot standing there in front of his door. But I knock anyway because Evan Warner is the only person in the world I want to see.

  It only takes a few seconds for Evan to come to the door and the expression on his face says I look a lot worse than I ever imagined. He glances up and down at me for a few seconds before he says, “What the hell happened?”

  Before I can even utter a word, I start sobbing uncontrollably again. Evan takes me into his arms, pulls me close and holds me.

  I breathe in his masculine scent then I exhale slowly relaxing into his strong arms where I finally feel protected and safe.

  When my sobs begin to subside, Evan leads me into the living room and seats me on his oversized sofa. He kisses my forehead and says, “I’ll be right back.”

  I wipe the tears from my eyes and I can see black from my smeared makeup all over my hands.

  Evan returns quickly with a large box of tissues, which he sets down next to me. Then he sits on my other side and pulls me close.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks quietly, as if he’s trying to sooth me.

  I grab a tissue and try to wipe my eyes and cheeks, which I’m sure are covered in black makeup.

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He takes the tissue from me and wipes at a few spots on my cheek that I apparently missed.

  When he notices the spot where I was slapped, I cringe as he gently touches it with his thumb.
/>   “Did someone hit you?” he utters through gritted teeth.

  I nod.

  “Who?” he seethes. “Who did that to you?”

  “It’s okay,” I lie. “I’m okay.” But I’m not sure I’m okay at all. I can feel myself shaking. My nerves are completely shot.

  “Tell me who did this,” he insists. “I’m going to rip his teeth out and shove them back down his throat.”

  I shake my head. “It’s too dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Evan’s jaw is clenched and his eyes are stormy with anger. “Who hurt you, Keira?”

  “It’s my fault.” My voice cracks as I speak. “I went somewhere I shouldn’t have gone with someone I obviously didn’t know.”

  “Who,” Evan insists.

  A big part of me wants to tell Evan about Loose. I want Evan to beat the shit out of him. But the man is an ex-con and he could be extremely dangerous. And he obviously knows a lot of other dangerous people. I know if I tell Evan who did it, nothing will stop him from avenging me.

  I would never put Evan in that kind of danger.

  “Please just hold me,” I beg. “Please.”

  He inhales a deep breath and I can see his face relax a bit. He pulls me close and I nestle myself in his embrace.

  We just sit there for a few moments, in silence, and I can feel Evan’s chest expand as he takes in each breath. As I focus on his breathing, it calms my own.

  “I want to give you a hot bath,” he suggests.

  I nod and he pulls me to my feet and leads me into his master bath.

  He has a wonderful Jacuzzi tub, which he begins to fill. He runs his hand under the running water a few times testing the temperature and plays with the hot and cold faucets until he has the temperature just right.

  As the bath is filling, Evan removes what is left of my torn blouse. I step out of my heels and then he removes my mini skirt. I take off my bra and slither out of my underwear allowing them to fall to the floor.

  He helps me step into the bathtub and I slide down into the hot, soothing water and close my eyes for a moment.

  When I hear Evan pour something into the water, I open one eye and see the bath is filling with bubbles that have the faint smell of lilac.

  As I inhale the sweet scent, my mind goes back to the horrible place I was in earlier and I remember the smell of urine and garbage that assaulted my senses.

  “Is the water too hot?” Evan asks. He has concern in his eyes. I’ve never seen him so thoughtful and gentle in my life. It’s a side of Evan I’m growing to appreciate.

  “It’s perfect,” I say.

  “Good. Now lie back and relax.”

  I do as I’m told. The water now covers most of my body and what’s not covered by water is covered with bubbles.

  Evan gets down on his knees next to the tub and grabs a washcloth. He gently washes each of my arms, then rinses the cloth and washes my shoulders, neck and chest.

  He rinses the cloth again and washes my face. I notice he’s extra careful as he moves the cloth over the place where Scarface slapped me. I cringe when I think about the possibility of having a bruise on my face tomorrow.

  When Evan leans over and places a soft kiss on the spot where I was slapped, I can feel my heart flutter with emotion.

  “Now I’m going to wash your feet,” he says. “Lift them up.”

  I lift my left leg out of the tub and Evan takes the cloth and washes my foot then runs the cloth up and down my leg. When he’s done, I switch and he washes my right foot and leg.

  For someone with such large hands, his touch is surprisingly tender and soothing.

  “You’re very good at this,” I say dreamily. “Have you had a lot of practice?”

  With the vast number of women he’s been with, I image he’s probably bathed a number of them.

  He gives me a perplexed look. “You’re the first person I’ve ever given a bath.”

  I let out a little laugh. “Really?”

  “Really,” he says matter-of-factly and when he looks at me, my heart skips a few beats.

  I know the real trouble is about to begin because I’m falling for Evan Warner.

  I do my best to fight another feeling that seems to overcome me whenever Evan gets too close: the need to escape. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to escape. I don’t want to run. I want to be right where I am, with Evan.

  And it scares the hell out of me.

  “Do you feel better?” he asks. When our eyes meet, I start to feel tingly all over.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He very carefully strokes the place on my cheek where I was slapped and I can see of flash of anger in his eyes. “I wish you’d tell me who hurt you.”

  “I just can’t,” I reply.

  “Okay.” I see his restraint as he places a soft kiss on my cheek.

  I never thought I’d see the day when the ever-arrogant Evan the Conqueror was so sweet and kind and nurturing. It didn’t seem to be within the realm of possibility.

  “I’ll be right back,” he says as he lifts himself from the floor and exits the bathroom.

  I close my eyes again and take in a deep, relaxing breath. The bath is starting to get a little cool and I know it will soon be time to get out but I don’t want this moment to end. For the first time, in a long time, my crowded and complicated mind is actually at peace.

  Evan returns with a tee shirt and a pair of draw-string sweat shorts. “You can’t put your clothes back on,” he explains. “Your top is ruined.”

  I never want to wear any of those clothes again. They’ll always remind me of the events of this horrible night. I wish I could burn them but I’ll probably just throw them away.

  “This is the best I could do for now.” He places the clothes on the vanity. “Are you ready to get out?”

  I nod and he grabs a large, fluffy bath towel. As I rise out of the tub, he puts the warm towel around my body.

  “It feels nice,” I say as I enjoy the extra softness on my skin.

  “I have a towel warmer,” he admits. “It came with the place.”

  “Nice touch,” I say as I step out of the bathtub.

  Evan opens the drain and the water begins to recede. As I watch it pour down the drain, I feel like all of my bad memories and feelings about the night’s events are going down the drain with it.

  Evan’s making me feel clean again.

  “Let me make sure your back is dry,” Evan says as he moves the towel down my back. Then he does my arms and legs and I feel like I’m being spoiled and pampered.

  I feel guilty that Evan is being so nice because I know I don’t deserve it. Especially when he probably has an idea that another man did this to me. And he also knows about my feelings for Aaron.

  But I also know now that Evan loves me. And when I look into his dazzling green eyes, the feelings I have for him completely overwhelm me.

  He swallows as I continue to stare into the depths of his overpowering eyes.

  “You’d better get dressed,” he says. “It’s getting late.”

  I wonder what he means by that. Does he want me to leave? I’m overcome by a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realize I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go back to my cold and lonely apartment.

  I’m suddenly blinking back tears. “You’re right,” I manage to say. “I probably should go.”

  Evan closes the distance between us and lifts my chin. ‘You’re not going anywhere. I meant it’s getting late and we should probably get to bed and get some sleep.”

  Now I’m the one swallowing. “Okay,” I mutter as I wipe a stray tear from my face.

  Evan pulls me into a tight hug and holds me as I start to sob again.

  When we’re in Evan’s bed, he pulls me close so that my back is against his chest. It’s still surprising that I don’t feel the need to escape. I don’t want to run. I just want to melt into Evan’s strong arms.

  But Evan is different. This is different
. First of all because we haven’t had sex and second because I just want him to hold me.

  And I don’t feel like there’s anything to run from. Evan’s arms around me no longer feel like a trap. Instead, they make me feel safe and secure. As I snuggle into the oversized pillow and close my eyes, I can feel myself fading into the bliss of sleep with the soft sound of Evan breathing in my ear.

  ***

  I wake up with a start as I try to remember where I am.

  When I realize I’m in Evan’s room, all of the events of the previous night come crashing back like an avalanche.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  And what am I going to do about Evan?

  As I touch the other side of the bed, I realize Evan isn’t there. I can make out some noises, water running and plates clanking, and I realize he’s in the kitchen.

  I want to get up but the warmth and absolute comfort of the bed hold me captive.

  Then Evan comes in carrying a tray of food and beverages.

  Breakfast in bed.

  “What is this?” I ask, surprised by the gesture.

  Evan frowns. “What does it look like?”

  “You didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed.”

  “It’s only fitting for a Princess.” He says it as a joke but I can feel my entire body tense at the word.

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  Evan looks confused as he places the tray next to me.

  “He called me that,” I mutter.

  “The guy who hurt you?”

  I nod.

  “I’m sorry,” he says as he sits down next to me on the bed. “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. Let’s just enjoy this breakfast you made. It smells wonderful.”

  That produces a small smile on Evan’s face. “I like to cook.”

  “I had no idea,” I admit. I’ve known Evan my whole life. We’ve slept together countless times and yet in some ways, I don’t feel like I know him at all.

  I begin to realize there is an Evan that he keeps hidden behind a wall of arrogance and bravado. There’s a sweet, kind and thoughtful Evan and it’s an Evan I really like, maybe even love.

  And it’s an Evan that a mean girl like me doesn’t deserve.