by Rebel Farris
Evan looks like he’s pondering the request, not bothered at all by my anger. “I don’t know. This’s pretty good blackmail fodder.”
“I’ll kill—”
“I don’t know what the big deal is. I’m—” Caleb starts.
“Caleb, go home. Now,” I grind out, turning my head to the side. “This doesn’t concern you.”
I try to keep my calm, but this stupid, self-absorbed kid thinks this is about him and his ridiculous proposition. I can’t let the girls find out about his fucking ridiculous proposal. That’s on top of Evan’s threat of sharing a video of me masturbating directly after. Fuck my life.
“Nic told me you—” Evan starts.
“Don’t say another word,” I warn Evan. “Seriously, Nic!”
Nic laughs. “I can take a guess as to what this is about. But who was—”
“Oh, my God, don’t you start, too,” I whine. I seriously want to start bashing my head into the table.
“I’ve gotta fuckin’ know,” Holly states.
“Me, too,” Chloe adds.
“That’s it. We’re taking this outside.” I stand up, glaring at Evan while my unfinished bowl of pasta unsuctions from my belly and clatters back to the table. I look down at it and the mess on my clothes and the table. “After I clean this up and go change. I’m kicking your ass for starting this and you will delete that video.”
Then
The next morning, I woke up, every muscle in my body deliciously sore. I tried to move, but Law had an arm around my waist and his leg thrown over both of mine, pinning me to the bed. I’d no idea what time it was, but the sun was out in full force. I struggled to slip out of his hold, but he only squeezed me tighter.
“Law?” I murmured. “You have to let me go. I need to pee.”
Thick lashes fluttered open, revealing hazel eyes. Law smiled wickedly, showing both dimples, and my stomach fluttered.
“Oh, really?” He moved his arm lower and squeezed. “Do you have a pressing issue?”
“Stop, I’m going to pee on you,” I shrieked and squirmed to get out of his hold.
He started tickling me. I couldn’t help myself as I screamed at the top of my lungs. I thrashed and kicked and slapped at him to release me.
“Oh my God, stop, I’m super ticklish, and I’m seriously going to pee on you!”
Banging ensued from the room next door. “Can you keep the volume down on your kinky shit? It’s early.”
I broke free and raced to the bathroom. Law lay in bed, laughing.
“That’s not kinky shit. Your fucking roommate’s one of those annoying morning people,” I yelled back. I’m not sure if anyone heard me, but I assumed they did, since they heard my yelling to begin with. I came out of the bathroom, and Law was still in bed with an arm draped over his eyes, a smile on his face, and his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“That wasn’t funny. I don’t like to be tickled.” I frowned at him.
He removed his arm and looked at me, his smile melting and his gaze heating up as I stood there, naked and pissed off. He cleared his throat.
“It’s nine. We should get ready, so we have time to swing by your dorm, and you can change.”
“I’m not the one looking at me like that.”
“Ugh, don’t keep me thinking about it,” he said, falling back against the pillow and looking up at the ceiling. “You should get dressed. Otherwise, I won’t be able to make this go away.” He motioned to the tenting fabric of his bedding near his waist.
“I can take care of that for you,” I said, climbing on the bed. “But you’ll have to show me how. I’ve never really done that before.”
He groaned, “You’re going to be the death of me, you know? The only time you’re not being sexy as fuck is when you’re being adorable.”
After taking care of Law’s condition, we got ready and headed out of the house. Law had pulled jeans on over his workout shorts and a leather jacket over his white T-shirt. I was still in the clothes I had on the day before. We stepped out the door, and I headed toward my car.
“Laine,” Law called.
I turned back to face him.
“I was thinking we’d take my ride.” He motioned up the driveway.
I changed route and followed him. We stopped in front of a fabric-covered lump, which I could only assume was a motorcycle. He removed the cover.
“Boys where I’m from would call this a crotch rocket,” I said to him, eyeing the death trap warily. It was only a ten-minute drive, but I’d never ridden a motorcycle before.
Law scoffed. “This is a Ducati, and she’s my baby.” He stroked the seat of the sleek black bike.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
“We need to get you educated on the ways of the world, Bumpkin,” he said, straddling the bike. “I can’t show you what she’s made of between here and the school, but someday I’ll take you for a ride out of the city. Here, suit up.”
He passed me a helmet. I felt like a Storm Trooper wearing the damn thing.
“Hop on,” he commanded.
I sat hesitantly behind him. He reached back and grabbed me by the ass, scooting me all the way against him. He ran his hands down my thighs, patting my knees.
“Wrap your arms around me tightly, lean with me when I lean. Okay?”
“Got it,” I said, but my voice just echoed loudly around the helmet, so I gave him a thumbs-up.
He started the thing up. It came to life with a purring sound as he walked it backward down the driveway. He put his helmet on, and his voice boomed in my ears.
“You ready?”
I jumped at the sound. I hadn’t realized that the helmets had built-in headsets.
“When you are,” I responded.
We took off, hitting breakneck speed almost instantly. Good thing I was holding on to him, because the g-force alone would’ve thrown me off. I tightened my hold on him, and his smooth chuckle rang in my ears. When we crossed Lady Bird Lake over the South Congress Bridge, I looked out over the water as it shimmered in the morning light. A good mix of trees and open, green spaces filled in the gaps of commercial properties that lined the waterfront. Kayaks and paddleboards dotted the surface as early risers got their day started on the water. It was breathtaking. I started to relax. He really was a good driver, fluidly changing lanes. This was actually fun. Then we were pulling up in front of my dorms.
I ripped the helmet off, smiling. “That was amazing! You so have to take me on that ride soon,” I said, hopping off the bike. He pulled me back to him with a huge smile. Full dimpled display. He grasped my chin.
“I’m glad you liked it because I’ve plans for you and this bike.” He kissed me thoroughly.
I remembered girls were leaving the dorms then, and we were probably attracting a lot of attention, so I pulled away.
“Go get dressed, Bumpkin.” He smacked my ass. “We have places to be.”
I ran into the dorm and raced up to my room, still fueled by the adrenaline from the bike ride. I threw on my workout clothes and athletic shoes, grabbed Sloane’s leather jacket, and was out the door in less than ten minutes.
We were back on the bike and weaving down the little two-lane roads of South Austin that were a mix of residential, commercial, and industrial lots. It was only a couple of minutes and we were pulling up in front of a string of what looked to be industrial garages. I was confused until I spied through an open garage door a wall of mirrors reflecting a boxing ring. I removed the helmet and got off more slowly this time. Sloane had said her dad was a professional boxer.
“This isn’t—” I began, but he cut me off.
“It’s my dad’s gym,” he said quickly. “I know how you like to be independent.” He smiled. “I thought you could add a new skill to your collection and train here. It’ll keep me from beating up a bunch of fucking losers. I teach a self-defense class on Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, but we have other
options to choose from if you don’t want to learn from me. It’s not far from school, and he won’t charge you a thing. You want to check it out?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his bike.
I tilted my head, studying him. I reached out and cupped his cheek, turning him to face me. I smiled at him.
“I think it’s an excellent idea, thank you.”
“Really?” He smiled.
“Yeah, but I’ve to warn you that I haven’t done any physical activity in almost four years. I’m probably hella out of shape.”
“I’ll go easy on you… for now.” His grin was downright wicked as he stood off the bike and gathered me into his arms. He placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on, let’s get you all sweaty and breathless.” He laced his fingers in mine and started dragging me toward the open door.
I laughed. “Is that your specialty?”
“Why, ma’am, I do believe it is.”
“Are you ever going to stop making fun of the way I talk?”
“I wasn’t. I’d never make fun of you, Bumpkin,” he said in mock seriousness and tried to fight back laughter, but his dimples and heaving shoulders gave him away. I swatted at him, and he shrugged. “You’re the one who quoted my favorite movie to me last night.”
“What? A Fistful of Dollars?”
“Yeah, that’s a great scene.” He smiled wistfully. “I’ve a thing for old movies—spaghetti westerns and kung fu, mostly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, well, you saw my pistol,” he said with a smirk at his double entendre. “I also have this.” He pulled off his leather jacket, pointing to a tattoo on the inside of his forearm of a half-curled fist. “It’s a one-inch punch. Bruce Lee and Clint Eastwood are the badasses of all badasses. And I think the way you talk is cute.” He booped my nose and turned to continue into the gym.
The pungent aroma of sweat and bleach permeated the air as we entered. It was small, but an adequate size to hold all the equipment. There was a treadmill in the back and a few racks of free weights and dumbbells. Law led me through a group of about ten punching bags in all shapes and sizes, suspended from the ceiling by metal chains. Above the wall of mirrors, the words Hold’s Gym were painted on the wall. Scattered blue and black mats covered the concrete floor.
Two people were working out when we walked in, one at the wall lined with three speed bags, and another looking at the hooks holding large groupings of jump ropes.
He walked into a back office, and I hung back, just outside the door. On the wall, there was an old framed newspaper article that read “Holden Russo Wins World Heavyweight Boxing Title.”
A strange male voice asked, “What are you doing here so early? You don’t train until tonight.”
“I know. I brought in someone new. Off the books,” Law replied. There was a pause.
“You going to explain?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“You want to get some sparring in since you’re here?”
“No, I’m just going to show her around.”
“Her?” I heard a creaking noise, probably from a chair. “I gotta see this.”
A huge man with sandy-brown hair filled the door frame. He made Law almost look skinny, he was so massive. They had the same nose, and the shape of their eyes was similar, but the resemblance stopped there. My guess was that Law and Sloane took after their mother. He had a huge smile on his face as he just about bowled me over when he turned into the hallway. Warm green eyes took me in, his smile decorated with dimples. Well, Law had gotten the dimples from his dad.
“Hi,” I said, righting myself.
“Who’s this?” he asked, looking me over. The question was directed at Law, but I beat him to answering it.
“I’m Sloane’s new roommate and the bane of your son’s existence. Law had to defend me last Friday night, so I think he thought bringing me here would save him from a rap sheet.”
He boomed a hearty laugh. I offered my hand. He knocked it aside and swept me into a bear hug.
“Get your hands off my girl, Pops.”
“Or what? You going to fight me for her?” his dad challenged.
“Please,” Law scoffed. “You can’t take me, old man. You’re getting slow in your old age.”
Holden set me down with a wink and turned to his son.
“Right now, I’m about to show your girl what a real man is.”
Law looked to me. “This should be quick.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said dryly. I wasn’t worried about the safety of the boxing champ, for sure.
“You’ll pay for that later,” Law said, his hand landing on my ass sharply, making me yelp.
“I like this girl already,” Holden laughed.
They moved to the side of the ring and began putting on sparring equipment. When they were ready, they each swung their bodies through the ropes with the grace and speed of practiced professionals. My nerves ratcheted upward.
They danced around each other on the balls of their feet, gloved hands held in front of their faces. They were as graceful as ballet dancers, with the deadly air of a predator. Holden’s arm popped out to swing so fast I barely saw it, but Law did. He ducked, and the flying fist only met air.
Law’s fist curved up, catching his father in the ribs with an oof, but not so much as a flinch more in reaction. Law was fast as he dodged his father’s meaty fists. With each missed hit, the pride in his father’s eyes was evident. Until one of those lethal swings connected with the edge of Law’s jaw. He stumbled back, shaking his head.
“Dropped your guard,” Holden boomed with a steely voice. “Fists in front of your face.”
“Won’t happen again,” Law grumbled back.
Holden came at him hard with a well-practiced combo. Law dodged the first two swings, but the third caught him on the side of his head, near his ear. His eyes unfocused and he fell to one knee. His dad ripped off his gloves with the loud sound of tearing Velcro and threw them to the ground.
“I want that combo on a bag two hundred times after you finish showing her around,” Holden said. “Tonight, we’ll drill block and evade two hundred more times before Keith gets here to spar with you. You’re never going to make pro if you don’t take this seriously.” He dipped under the ropes and dropped down in front of me. “It was nice meeting you,” he added with a forced smile and went back to his office.
Law still sat on one knee staring blindly at the wall to my right.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked.
He punched his fist to the ground with a frustrated grunt and fell to his ass, draping his elbows around his knees. His chin dropped to his chest.
“I didn’t know you were training to go pro,” I said, climbing into the ring with him.
“Yeah.” He shook his head and looked back toward the office where his dad retreated. “It’s not so much a choice with him. At least not for me.”
He looked up and I could see the pain in his eyes, completely open to me. I knew, right then, I was in trouble. I sat down next to him and dropped my chin on his bicep. I had no words, nothing to compare it to. I had no parent to make demands of my future, but I knew my mom would’ve supported me no matter what I wanted out of life. So, I did the only thing I knew how. I sat there and offered silent support and would listen, if he decided to talk.
Now
After changing into clean clothes, I head outside to the pool house. It’s a prefab, installed a few years ago in an attempt to lead normal lives without having to leave the house. Part of it is a storage closet for the pool equipment, but the majority of it is a fully functional gym.
I leave the lights off except the one near the entryway and sit on a bench against the far wall after grabbing wraps off a shelf. It’s cool and dark as I proceed to tape my wrists. The hum of the window unit air conditioner is the only sound filling the space. Once I’m ready, I grab a jump rope off the wall and move to warm up my muscles.
Then I start on the heavy bag and work on combos. Thump thump.
The door behind me opens, and I look to the wall of mirrors to find Dex.
“So, she fights, too,” he says, taking in the small space. His gaze lands on me. “This is a nice setup you got here.”
I release a puff of air and throw another combo. Thumpthump thwack. “What do you want, Dex. Why are you here?”
He shrugs. “It’s my job.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Thumpthump thump. “Your job requires you to wait outside the building and see if you catch someone spying. Instead, you’re in here. I guess this’s just how you operate. But at some point, I’m gonna hafta shower and sleep, and things are gonna get awfully awkward if you keep this shit up.”
He shrugs, lips pursed, trying to hide a smile. “I can think of a few ways to make it less awkward.”
Thump thwack thump. “Do you have some form of multiple personality disorder that I need to know about?”
“No, why?” His brows draw together sharply.
“I can’t keep up with you. One minute you’re flirting, the next minute you’re rejecting me.”
He took a step toward me. “I didn’t—”
“Don’t.” Thump thumpthump thwack. “I don’t want to talk about it. What’s done is done. It’s in the past, and talking about it’s unnecessary. This is a professional relationship, and we should just stick to that. I think it’ll make it easier since we’re gonna be around each other a lot for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re right. I think we had a false start. Maybe we should start over. Hi, I’m Dex McClellan, an undercover cop posing as a tattoo artist. I’m here to serve and protect you. Help catch a stalker and possible murderer. And I promise not to flirt with you again. Unless we’re in front of people, but only to keep up appearances.” He smirks. “Deal?”
Thumpthump thump. “Deal.”
He rolls his finger in circles, indicating that I should continue.
I try to fight a smile. “I’m Maddie Dobransky, aka Laine Dobransky, former rock star, and owner of Mad Lane Records. Though, apparently, that title now includes stalker bait. I’ll try and be less of a bitch, but no promises. I’ll also try and not be awkward when we’re pretending to be boyfriend-girlfriend. But again, no promises.”