Against the Ropes

by Sarah Castille

  I sigh. “We are. I hope you don’t have too much trouble finding

  someone else.”

  I pivot and follow Jake into the parking lot.

  This time, I don’t look back.

  Chapter 6

  Angry Girls Don't Bounce

  I am jolted out of a fitful sleep by a loud banging on the front door

  and the grating sounds of heavy equipment. My clock flashes eight

  o’clock. Who the hell gets up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning?

  By the time I find my bathrobe and stumble down the hallway, my

  housemates are already in the foyer.

  “What’s going on?”

  Rob hands me an official-looking piece of paper. “We have a

  new landlord, a company called Legacy Holdings. They’re renovating

  the property starting today. They’ve arranged for us to move to the

  Sunset View Apartments on Lake Merritt while the renovations are

  being done.”

  Jennifer staggers back against the wall and slaps a hand to her chest.

  “No way. Those apartments are insanely expensive. I went out with a

  guy who rented there. He lived on the twenty-fourth floor. The views

  over the Bay are amazing. They have a doorman, a fitness center, and

  a sauna.”

  Doormen and saunas sound expensive. “Do we have to pay

  more rent?”

  Rob reads the rest of the document. “Nothing changes. We pay

  the same rent. And they are splurging for three apartments on the same

  floor. Carlos and I are in one. Jennifer and Ashley are in the other, and

  you get your own place.”

  “Seriously? My own apartment?”

  Rob hands me the papers and I skim over the boring legal bits and

  dive straight into the important stuff. Yup. My very own apartment,

  fully furnished, and my rent doesn’t change. Not only are they putting

  us up during the renovations, they are sending a moving truck for our

  personal stuff today at noon.

  Too bad this didn’t happen a day earlier and Torment could have

  seen me living in style. But I will not think about Torment. I will not

  remember the feel of his soft warm lips as they sucked ice cream off my

  finger. I will not remember his chiseled pecs or his smoldering eyes…

  or the deep rumble of his voice…or the feel of his hard body pressed up

  against mine…or the way my core tightens when he touches me. He is

  gone. Forgotten. I have already moved on.

  Dr. Drake is easy on the eye. He has a nice smile. Nice body. Very

  nice teeth. Not much in the way of a dangerous persona, but he seems

  to like me.

  I will have lunch with him on Monday.

  I hope he likes picnics.

  Nine hours later, my first housewarming party is in full swing. My luxu-

  riously furnished, one-bedroom apartment on the twenty-third floor of

  the Sunset View Apartments buzzes with activity. While Jennifer and

  Carlos mix cocktails with their friends in the high-end kitchen, I grab

  another glass of champagne from the bar and head over to the balcony

  to catch up with Amanda.

  My path takes me through the random assortment of boyfriends,

  girlfriends, friends-with-benefits, and soon-to-be one night stands,

  clustered in the center of my open space living area. A pang of lone-

  liness grips me. Why am I always single at parties—the best friend,

  housemate, filler, or stand-in? Why am I never the one making out in

  the bedroom or chatting to the guests as my boyfriend slings a casual

  arm over my shoulder and whispers sweet nothings into my ear? What’s

  wrong with me?

  “So, what happened with Torment?” As always, Amanda gets

  straight to the point. I lean over the railing, soaking up the view of San

  Francisco Bay, and steel myself for her interrogation.

  She pokes me in the side when I am not immediately forthcoming

  with information.

  “I thought I’d finally get the ‘don’t call me in the morning’ text after

  you texted me about your afternoon picnic and your motorcycle ride.”

  A warm breeze ruffles my hair bringing with it the fresh scent of

  the ocean and an unwanted memory of my cheek pressed up against

  Torment’s jacket when we raced around the bay on his Agusta.

  “You must have missed the text where I said he just wanted me to

  work.” My third—or is it my fourth?—glass of champagne is a little

  too sweet and a little too fruity, but I gulp it down just the same. Some

  nights call for a little extra indulgence, and this is one of them.

  Amanda’s laugh tinkles in the still of the night. “I didn’t believe it.

  I saw the way he watched you when we left the club last week. When

  you told me he tracked you down at the hospital with a picnic in tow, I

  knew he was into you.”

  “Well, your instincts were wrong this time,” I snap. “He has a girl-

  friend. That over-processed blonde who was prancing around in pink

  Latex. I call her Pinkaluscious.”

  Amanda snorts champagne through her nose. “Catty. Not like

  you—which tells me you like him.”

  I shake my head. “He isn’t really my type. Too violent. Too rough.

  Too dangerous. He probably hangs out with unsavory biker dudes. I’m

  better off sticking with my usual.”

  “Bland.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I take another sip of champagne.

  Gah. I’ll have to switch to something harder—something to numb my

  brain and erase all my memories of yesterday.

  “The only guys you ever go out with are boring, dull, and safe.

  The kind of guys parents love. Ryan? Yawn. Phil? Dull as ditch water.

  Mike? He was so innocuous I can’t even remember his face.” Even your

  friend Charlie, who you had the sense not to date, is the same. Nice

  and dull.”

  “They’re the only ones who ask me out.” I stare out into the night.

  Lake Merritt glimmers below us—an inky black stain surrounded by

  twinkling lights. So pretty. If I owned a place like this, I would spend all

  my time just looking at the view.

  “Not true.” Amanda raps my knuckles with her finger. “You forget

  we’ve been friends since we were four. I’ve seen the guys you lust after,

  but the minute they express any interest you run away. Remember

  Timmy Jones?”

  “He put a dead frog in my lunch box.”

  “Jack from high school?”

  “He set my locker on fire.”

  “How about Dan from first-year biology?”

  “He tried to turn me into an anarchist and start a revolution.” I

  turn to face her. “And Timmy doesn’t count. We were in first grade.”

  Amanda sighs. “My point is, the edgy, dangerous guys you

  liked all wanted to ask you out, but you ran away before they got

  a chance.”

  My fingers curl around the cold, iron railing. “Well this time

  I got blindsided by a pink Barbie doll. Just leave it. I don’t need

  to be psychoanalyzed. And it doesn’t matter. I’m having lunch with

  Doctor Drake on Monday, and he’s definitely not bland—well, at

  least not physically.”

  “I thought you said he touched you inappropriately.”

  “It wasn’t so much inappropriate as it was…protective.” I graciously


  give Dr. Drake the benefit of the doubt.

  “Protective or possessive?”

  “Doctor Drake doesn’t want to possess me.” I fold my arms and

  give her my best scowl.

  “Not since he lost the pissing contest.”

  “What pissing contest?” Amanda always forgets her experience with

  men vastly exceeds my own. Vastly with a capital V.

  Amanda rolls her eyes. “The one you told me about. Torment

  and Doctor Drake, sniffing each other out, trying to establish who

  was top dog.”

  “It wasn’t like that. It was just about lunch. And it wasn’t really

  a contest—”

  “I don’t imagine it would have been,” she interjects. “Torment is

  as alpha as they come. Drake probably ran off with his tail between

  his legs.”

  “Doctor Drake was just being friendly. Charlie says he likes me.

  He’ll be good for me. Everyone thinks he’s gorgeous. He’s you, but

  a man.”

  “Mmm.” Amanda twists her lips. “Then he’ll be amazing in bed.”

  “Who’s amazing in bed?” Jake comes up behind Amanda, wraps his

  arms around her waist, and nuzzles her neck.

  Sigh.

  “You are, baby.” She grins and wiggles her ass against him.

  Jake whispers in her ear and Amanda blushes. For all her feigned

  indifference, she really likes him. More than any other guy I’ve seen her

  with. Much more.

  “Makayla was asking me about Torment,” Amanda says. “Help her

  out and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Amanda!”

  She gives me a wink and turns in Jake’s arms, planting little kisses

  along his jaw.

  “What do you want to know?” He squeezes her ass and she squeals.

  “Name, rank, and serial number,” Amanda murmurs against his

  lips. “Current girlfriend. Day job. Gossip. That will do for a start.”

  Jake moans. “No can do. He’s an intensely private person. If he

  found out I had spilled his secrets he would kick me out. Privacy is such

  a big thing to him, he set up Redemption as an invitation-only club.

  Even the spectators are screened. They have to have a connection with

  someone in the club and they have to sign a nondisclosure statement

  before they are put on the list to receive texts about the events. And it

  works. Most people don’t even realize he has a real job. They think he

  works at the club full time. “

  Amanda’s eyes narrow. “He has a secret identity?”

  Jake shakes his head and swallows. “I didn’t say that. Pretend I

  didn’t say that.”

  “And you know who he is?”

  He looks at the floor and shuffles his feet.

  Poor guy. She will stop at nothing to get that information from

  him. He does not even understand the hunger of the beast he has un-

  leashed. He’ll be lucky to escape with his tongue intact.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I almost trip over my

  feet to get away from them. I step back into the apartment, and check

  my texts. Torment’s name shows up on my Caller ID. Unable to resist,

  I open the message.

  ....

  I need you at the club tonight

  .....

  Ha. I’m sure you do. And that’s all you want from me. I quickly type a response:

  .....

  No. Sorry. Busy

  What are you doing?

  I’m having a party **dances** **drinks**

  Without me?

  Don’t even think about guilt-tripping me. My thumb wavers as I type. I’ve definitely

  had enough to drink.

  U have club things 2 do. Like hurting people

  Is the doctor at ur party?

  .....

  My eyes widen. Is he jealous? Why? He has Pinkaluscious. Why does he

  care if Dr. Drake is at my party? Should I lie and say yes?

  “Sorry, Mac. Jake wouldn’t tell me anything.” Amanda joins me in

  the living room and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

  Just what I need. An expert. I hand her the phone.

  Amanda reads the messages and gives me a curious, sideways glance.

  “Mention the girlfriend.”

  “Why?”

  She laughs. “Just a hunch. Work the girlfriend into the conversa-

  tion. I’ll bet he shows up at your door in less than half an hour.”

  Amanda has never let me down, especially when it comes to men.

  Trusting her instincts, I send my text.

  .....

  No doctor here. Just me and friends and lots of drinks

  I want to see lots-of-drinks-Makayla. Come to the club

  2 much violence

  I have ice cream

  .....

  My hands shake, and a giggle erupts from my chest. Maybe if I wasn’t

  so drunk I would find him less amusing.

  ....

  Give it 2 Pinkaluscious

  Who?

  Your girlfriend **frowns**

  ....

  After waiting five minutes for him to respond, I hand the phone to

  Amanda and let her read the new texts. She tells me not to text him

  again. For the next ten minutes, I conduct tests on my phone to ensure

  it is still working by forcing everyone at the party to text me. Another

  ten minutes pass by and I finally give up. He isn’t going to respond. And

  why would he? If it was a game, he knows he’s been found out.

  “Someone hit me over the head the next time I express any interest

  in a man.” I throw myself into the black, leather chair beside Rob and

  steal his bowl of calorie- and fat-laden chips.

  Rob laughs and reaches behind him to turn up the music on the

  insanely expensive sound system that comes with the apartment. “With

  pleasure, darling.”

  Half an hour and an entire bowl of chips later, the low-pitched,

  high decibel rumble of a motorcycle from the street below cuts through

  Gotye’s sad, and highly appropriate, “Somebody That I Used To

  Know.” A pathetic hope unfurls in my belly, and I immediately quash it

  down. He has a girlfriend. Why would he come looking for me?

  A light breeze blows across the balcony and through the open

  windows, ruffling my hair. Gotye’s voice warbles behind me, and I

  imagine the motorcycle’s engine quiets to a soft, steady, low rumble. Or

  is it my imagination? My heartbeat quickens. Self-destructive curiosity

  claws its way through my belly.

  Cursing myself for my stupidity, I leave Rob and step onto the

  balcony. Amanda and Jake are entwined in the corner. Taking a deep

  breath, I clutch the railing and look at the street below.

  Oh. My. God. I know that motorcycle. And I know that tall, pow-

  erfully lean, mouthwateringly tight body dismounting the seat.

  For a moment, I can only stare. Stunned.

  “Amanda,” I gasp. “It’s him. Torment is outside.” A huge grin

  spreads across my face and I suck in a breath. He’s here. He’s here.

  Amanda detaches herself from Jake and frowns. “How did he know

  your new address?”

  “Rob put a sign on the door at my old place.” I narrow my eyes.

  “You knew he would go there and find it empty.”

  Amanda shrugs. “I thought he deserved it, after what he did to you.

  I didn’t know about Rob’s sign.”

  My lips tighten into a thin line. “I’m
going to call the doorman,

  and tell him to send Torment up.”

  “Don’t let him in,” Amanda snaps. “You told him no. He came

  anyway. Men like that need boundaries. If you don’t set them at the

  beginning, he will never know where the boundaries are and he’ll walk

  all over you. It takes a very strong person to build them in the middle

  of a relationship. If he’s interested, he’ll ditch the girlfriend and come

  looking for you. I guarantee it.”

  “Maybe he just needs someone to handle first aid tonight,” I say.

  “Stop biting your nails.” Amanda slaps my hand away from my

  mouth. “And stop bouncing. I thought you were angry with him. Angry

  girls don’t bounce.”

  But excited girls do. And what is more exciting than being

  hunted down by a devastatingly handsome tattooed fighter with a

  heartwarming laugh?

  Amanda studies me and sighs. “Even if it is about work, my previ-

  ous advice stands. Don’t let the two-timing bastard in.”

  Jake strokes his hand down her hair. “I don’t think that’s good

  advice. I know Torment. If he had a girlfriend—and I think I would

  have heard about it—he wouldn’t be here. He’s not that kind of guy.”

  He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “You saw him at the club,

  Makayla. What do you think?”

  “I think I’m confused.” I lean over the railing. The night is still and

  quiet again. Torment has removed his helmet and is looking up at my

  balcony, but from this distance I cannot see his face. Can he see me?

  For the longest time he looks up and I look down. Finally, he scrubs his

  hand through his hair, and then his body stills. He sees me.

  HE SEES ME!

  Using my fancy new intercom, and despite Amanda’s protests, I

  ring down to the doorman and tell him to send Torment to my apart-

  ment. Five minutes later, Torment crosses my threshold, his leather

  creaking with every step.

  The room freezes. Every conversation stops. The last few notes of

  Taylor Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble” linger in the air. Amanda

  detaches herself from Jake’s arms, stomps across the room, and stands

  in front of me.

  “Torment.” She crosses her arms. I don’t have to see her face to

  know she has shot him with her best don’t-mess-with-my-friend glare.

  “Amanda.”

  Tension hangs in the air between them, and the skin on the back