Ninja Girl

by Cookie O'Gorman

  “What?”

  “Think about it.”

  I didn’t so much see Snow move closer as feel it. The complete darkness made me that much more aware of her.

  “He waited until you and your parents were out of the house,” she said. “Even with all those threats, he’s never been caught on film. He has to be really smart to pull off something like that.”

  I nodded, forgetting that she couldn’t see, distracted by her nearness.

  “I’ve been thinking about it, and something doesn’t make sense.”

  A shift in the air, her body heat coming closer to mine.

  “Ash,” she said, “this feels personal.”

  “It does,” I agreed, though I knew we weren’t talking about the same thing. The threats, my dad, they were so far away right then. I was pretty sure she didn’t notice how close we were. But I did. It was the only thing I could think about. “Did you know there are three reasons why drive-ins are better than movie theaters?”

  “Huh?”

  “The first reason is no waiting in line. The second is you don’t have to leave the comfort of your car.” I reached my hand up to her cheek, and she gasped. “And the third…” I trailed off.

  “Yes,” she said after a beat.

  “Hmm?”

  “You were saying”—Snow cleared her throat—”you were about to tell me the third reason drive-ins are better.”

  I lowered my voice, tracing her jaw line with my fingertips. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  She swallowed then shook her head.

  “Privacy,” I said, inches away from her lips, leaning in and—

  The sound of car horns blared to life around us. Snow jerked back. Flashing headlights blinked on and off as the screen lit up. Dropping my head back against the headrest, I punched my own horn. The show was right on time. Dammit.

  “Must be midnight,” Snow said, forcing a laugh.

  “Yeah,” I said and slammed my head back again.

  “I can’t wait to see you play.”

  I smiled at her. “Really?”

  “After what Koi’s been saying, I expect great things.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I never fail to impress.”

  “We’ll see,” Snow said and turned back to the screen. It was strange. I’d watched the championship game about a hundred times before, never got tired of reliving that day. Possibly the best day of my life, definitely top five. But I couldn’t have torn my eyes away from Snow even if I’d wanted to.

  Which I didn’t.

  I loved watching the play of emotions on her face. Like I said, I knew the game like the back of my hand, not to mention I could hear the audio in the background. But every time Snow cheered or winced or smiled or cursed, it was like being back there, seeing everything happen for the first time. She was mesmerizing. Luckily, she didn’t take her eyes off the screen. If she had, she would’ve seen me watching her and realized what a total goner I was.

  Snow didn’t even speak a word to me until halftime. At which point, she said, “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Is that good unbelievable or bad unbelievable?” I asked. I wasn’t above fishing for compliments.

  She rolled her eyes and faced me. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re amazing. No wonder you want to play in college. It’s your calling.”

  “Thanks, ninja girl.” I smiled. “I’ve never really thought about it like that, but I guess you’re right. If I had a calling, it would be soccer.”

  “And that Becks guy is…he’s…wow.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Snow shook her head. “Come on, he’s more than okay.”

  “I guess,” I said, which was really just me being an ass, but whatever. I’d had to live in Becks’s shadow for the past three years. He was a year older, could match me for cockiness (not an easy feat), and, much as it pained me to admit, he was damn good. But I was sick of the comparisons. Sick of coming second to the guy. Was it too much to ask for Snow at least to only look at me?

  “But Ash, seriously, I think you might be a little better.”

  “What?” I whipped around to face her. Never, not once—not even from my own mother—had I heard that.

  She shrugged. “Becks is great and all, but you…well, you’re more invested, more passionate. You look like you work harder on the field.”

  “I do?”

  “Well, yeah,” she said, mystifying me even further, “he has God-given talent. And you do, too. But you work harder for it, sweat more. That kind of drive is priceless.” She shrugged. “That’s what makes you better than everyone else.”

  I couldn’t speak for a second. Shit, I was surprised I wasn’t crying.

  “Ash?” Snow titled her head, looking at me strangely. “You okay? You look like you’re about to cry or something?”

  “I love you,” I murmured.

  “I didn’t hear that. What?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly. “I just—”

  “Hey, Stryker. Nice ride.”

  Teeth clenched, I looked out my window, flipping on the interior light. Spitz was standing there, grinning like a maniac, and Becks was beside her, his arm around her waist. He shrugged when I looked to him. The gesture seemed to say, Hey man, this was all her idea. I rolled my eyes in return. As if I needed him to tell me that.

  “Thanks, Spitz,” I said. “What brings you back here?”

  Her voice was all innocence. “Oh, we were just on our way to the concession stand when I spotted your car and decided to come and say hi.”

  “Really?” I said deadpan. “I thought the concession stand was over on the other side by the entrance.”

  “You know, I think you’re right,” she said then leaned down to wave at Snow. “Hey, Snow, you enjoying the game?”

  “Yeah,” she said, looking from me to Kent. “These two are really kicking ass.”

  “Thanks,” Becks said. “I try.”

  “It’s not easy,” I said, “but I make him look good.”

  “Keep telling yourself that Stryker.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Kent. I will.”

  Spitz rolled her eyes. “Jeez, you’re both masters of the soccer universe. Will you stop it already?”

  Becks smiled his stupid all-the-girls-love-me smile. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

  I looked over to see if Snow was affected, but she wasn’t even looking at him. She was looking at me. I grinned, and she startled, looked away.

  “You guys are really great,” she said.

  Spitz smiled. “Just wait until you see the second half.”

  “Is it good?”

  “Oh, it’s amazing.”

  “Can’t wait to see it.”

  Spitz nodded, still grinning, looking from me to Snow and back again. She had her arms propped on the door like she wasn’t planning to leave any time soon. It was starting to freak me out a little.

  “Was there something else you needed?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said, “I’m just so happy it all worked out.”

  “That what worked out?” Snow asked, but before Spitz could answer and most likely embarrass the hell out of me, Becks rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, Sal.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” he said, hauling her into his side. “We should get back. Show’s about to restart. See you around, Stryker.”

  “Thanks, Kent,” I said and meant it.

  As they walked away, Snow’s words kept playing through my mind: That’s what makes you better. That’s what makes you better than everyone else. I couldn’t believe she’d said that. No one had ever said that.

  “Snow?”

  “Yeah,” she said and turned to face me.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “This,” I said, and pressed my lips to hers.

  I kissed her like I’d wanted to for weeks. I’d dreamed about it. How my lips would slide against hers, how her breat
h would catch in her throat. How hot it would be and earth-shattering. And it was exactly like that.

  But so much better.

  God. Snow’s mouth was soft and inviting. I couldn’t get enough. I didn’t even try to keep my hands to myself. One shot up to tangle in her long black hair, the other around her back to pull her closer. The shudder that went through her body echoed my own. It was so…right. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t done this sooner.

  I groaned when her hands slid into my hair. She shivered when I nipped her bottom lip. It was like a dance. Her mouth was dancing with mine. We moved together, and it was sweet. And right. And scorching. I didn’t want to leave her lips ever. Not to eat, drink. Not to breathe.

  But after what felt like minutes—the best five minutes of my life—Snow pulled back.

  “Did you hear that?” she asked, breathing hard.

  I placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Hear what?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, looking past me into the trees.

  “Probably just a deer,” I said, reaching for her again.

  “It didn’t sound like a deer.”

  “Ah, Snow—”

  But then I heard it, too. It sounded like crunching leaves, like footsteps.

  I turned and squinted into the night. The trees were dense. Hard to see anything really.

  “Ash, I think you should roll up your window,” she said.

  “But it’s probably just—”

  There it was again.

  I leaned closer to the window, but Snow put a hand on my arm. Shit, it was too freaking dark. Anything could be in those woods. Freddie, Jason, Nikki Minaj, an angry grizzly. Who knew what was going to pop up?

  The rustling got louder as Snow and I held our breath.

  A couple of stray cats emerged, slinking side-by-side, crunching on the leaves beneath their paws like they owned the place. I laughed, shaking my head.

  “Just some cats,” I said and faced Snow. Her relief was obvious. “What did you think it was, a serial killer or something?”

  “No,” she said defensively.

  “Don’t worry, Snow. I’ll protect you.”

  “That makes me feel loads better.”

  Okay, time to smooth things over. I didn’t want her pissed at me. I just wanted to kiss her again. “You know what, I—”

  But I never got to finish.

  A hand reached through my window and wrapped around my face, shutting me up right quick. Whatever was on the cloth in that hand immediately made me woozy. I couldn’t fight back. Even as I was dragged from the car, even as Snow jumped out after me, even as they loaded me into this totally cliche white van. The last thing I remember was Snow’s stricken face. Her eyes kept coming back to mine as she fought off four attackers. As my eyes closed, I heard a crack then a manly groan and grinned.

  My ninja girl was giving ‘em hell.

  Too bad I wouldn’t be conscious to see it.

  CHAPTER 19: SNOW

  I was losing.

  The masked idiot to my right who didn’t know when to stay down got up, and I knocked him back again with a quick elbow-to-the-face, knee-to-the-groin combo. He groaned, rejoining two of his pals on the ground. One left standing, and he looked nervous—which was satisfying.

  But I was still losing.

  I’d never been a good loser, and the shit of it was, it didn’t even have anything to do with the fighting. These guys were good, but I was better. They were only winning because:

  1) They’d already gotten Ash into that van.

  2) There was still another masked man whose sole purpose seemed to be blocking Ash’s escape (or my rescue).

  3) Even if there wasn’t an extra man, Ash wasn’t moving anymore. They’d put a black bag over his head, but judging from the stillness of his body, it didn’t look like he was conscious. And I wasn’t physically strong enough to carry him out while fighting off five opponents.

  Dammit.

  The fourth man stared at me out of the two slits in his mask. I stared back. He’d just seen me take out three of his friends. Couldn’t blame the guy for hesitating. But a second later, he made his choice and ran at me, fists raised. Wrong move. I swept his legs out from under him, and he went down. Hard.

  “Enough.”

  I looked over…and my heart stopped. Just literally stopped dead in my chest. The guy in the van was holding a gun to Ash’s head.

  “Now, you have two choices,” he said, voice deep, controlled. “You can stop fighting and let us take the boy intact. Or you can keep fighting”—he pressed the gun into Ash’s temple—”and see what happens.”

  I heard the guys around me getting to their feet but kept my eyes on the gun. There were no good options here. What would Bruce do? My gut reaction was to keep fighting. I thought about it, even as the others walked past me and loaded into the van. Everything in me screamed to keep going. Beat these assholes back until my last breath. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk Ash’s life.

  “Good choice,” the masked man said, lowering the gun. Even if he hadn’t had the only weapon, I’d have known he was their leader from his stone cold composure.

  My mind was working fast and furious. What should I do, Bruce?

  “The Strykers will be hearing from us soon.”

  “Take me with you,” I blurted, stepping forward. I couldn’t let them leave with Ash.

  The gun came up pointed at me this time.

  “Take me,” I said again. The answer was simple: If I couldn’t get Ash out, I had to stay with him. “It’ll give you an extra hostage. If you take him alone, who’s to say you haven’t hurt him already?”

  “Start the car,” the man said, and the engine roared to life.

  “I won’t let you take him alone.”

  The driver turned. “You don’t have any say here,” he spat. “Just shut the door on the bitch, and let’s go.”

  I didn’t move but gave them my best icy glare, the one I’d picked up from Omma. “I’ll only follow you. I’ll hop right into Ash’s car, call the cops, and trail your ugly ass white van until you get to your destination.”

  “I could shoot you right now and prevent all that,” said the guy with the gun.

  “You could,” I said and pretended to consider. “But that might draw some unwanted attention. I’d think the key to kidnapping would be the less witnesses the better.”

  He looked at me for a long time, and I stared into his eyes, completely disregarding the gun pointed at my chest. I wouldn’t let them have Ash. If I was with him, I could protect him. Always have eyes on your body. I wasn’t letting him out of my sight.

  The gunman must’ve got that because he said, “Bag her, and let’s go.”

  “But she—”

  “People will be coming back for the second half. We need to be gone by then.”

  I’d already thought of that, which was why I’d made that comment about witnesses. My Plan B was to scream as loud as possible and hope someone came running. It wasn’t a great plan. They’d probably shoot me before I even opened my mouth. But if they refused to take me with them, it was all I had.

  The gunman looked back at the driver. “I said bag her.”

  “Fine,” he said and jumped out of the car.

  It was hard to stand still as he walked toward me. They all looked basically the same, black ski mask and gloves, black long-sleeve shirt and pants. But I could tell from the rip in this guy’s mask that he was the one who didn’t know when to stay down. It had ripped when I’d punched him the first time, and he’d gone headfirst into a tree. Sounded like he was still pissed.

  When he stopped in front of me, I could see the anger in his eyes. His hand whipped across my face, backhanding me. It was a cheap shot but a good one. Pain speared my cheek, slicing straight to the bone. My eyes instantly began to water. But I didn’t cry out.

  Lifting my head, I stared him straight in the eye…and grinned.

  Probably not the smartest move, but in this situation, it
was about the small victories. The guy jerked the bag over my head with more force than necessary. I stumbled as he tugged me to the van, winced as he threw me inside. I heard the door slam, and we sped away.

  Some bodyguard, I thought, feeling the cold metal of the floor bite into my cheek.

  Bruce’d once said, “In great attempts, it is glorious even to fail.” Well, he was right. I had failed gloriously, and now both Ash and I were being held by armed men, with no witnesses to the crime, headed to God-knows-where.

  That had to be the worst rescue attempt ever.

  * * *

  Ash didn’t wake up.

  Not when the van finally stopped. Not when they pulled us out of the car. Not when they shoved us in here—wherever here was—and the door banged shut.

  First thing I did was rip off my bag and take in the surroundings.

  It looked like a prison cell. Dark. Cold. A small room with a single bare bulb, a lot of concrete and not much else. I carefully slipped the bag off Ash’s head. He was dead to the world. The steady rise and fall of his chest was comforting—but seeing him so helpless put me on edge. What if the kidnappers had taken him alone? He wouldn’t have been able to defend himself. What if they’d knocked me out, too? The thought sent a chill down my spine, and I immediately started looking for escape routes.

  I tried the door, but of course, it was locked. No windows, no breaks in the wall except a door off to the left. Bathroom. No shower or bath, but at least there was a toilet. I also found several jugs of water and a few old blankets in the corner, which seemed thoughtful until I realized what that meant.

  They planned to keep us here a while.

  I went to grab one of the blankets for Ash when something else caught my eye: A red light above the door. When I stepped closer, I spotted the small black lens and shook my head. A camera. Great, they were still watching us.

  Turning back to Ash, I dragged him to the corner farthest from the door, placed the blanket over him and waited.

  * * *

  “Ash?”

  His brow furrowed, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  “Ash, come on,” I said. “You need to wake up.”

  He’d been out at least three hours by my count. The stuff they’d given him must’ve been really strong. In the van, with the bag over my head, I hadn’t been able to tell direction or time of day, but I’d still tried to keep track of how much time had passed. One hour in the car, two here on the floor. He’d started groaning five minutes ago.