by L. L. Ash
Paradise City
Harrison Series: Book 1
L. L. Ash
Copyright © 2017 by L. L. Ash
All rights reserved.
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
My name is Sam. Samantha Bulliard pronounced (boo-ee-ard) Yeah a lot of people have a hard time with my name. It was always a rough one when I moved up grades and had new teachers. It was like it blew their minds or something.
But now that I’m graduated that didn’t matter anymore. I had time to pursue my interests for the rest of the fall and winter before Dad expected me to get a job or go to college. Oh, yeah. College. I wasn’t looking forward to it. Like it’s not enough to have 13 years of school from kindergarten to high school. Let’s add another 4-8 more on top of that.
Anyway, long story short, I wasn’t planning on going to college. I hoped to get a good job as a secretary or something and just work my way up. But for now, I was enjoying my summer and fall before I had to gain more adult responsibility and Dad was all for the break.
So I spent more time than normal at my Quarterstaff games. See, Quarterstaff is an English game that used to be played until WWI hit. Players declined to almost non-existent by the time the depression and WWII came around. But there were some people nearby that were still practicing a modern version and I was one of them. The only little hitch was that it was a game for men. No women were allowed to play in this region’s group so I had to be secretive about my sex. I showed up to the games in my padded white fencing suit and mesh helmet already on my head.
I was walking into the building for the weekly game after strapping on my armor in the car while carrying my short staff, trying to imitate a man’s swagger just a little. I never talked to anyone and after a little while the other players stopped trying to communicate with me, which worked for me just fine. It wasn’t a game with a lot of talking anyway
I sat on a bench in the gymnasium while I waited for the game to start, keeping my head down and staying unmoving until the whistle blew and the round began. It was a madhouse at first until people began being knocked onto their asses. Once you were down you were out of the game. So it was imperative to stay on your feet and whack people behind the knees or in the gut. I received a few blows, one to my upper arm and one in my side that almost knocked me down. But I held the spot for a moment then growled as I attacked the next poor bastard to get close to me.
Finally there were 4 of us. I was the smallest of the group, but the thinnest and quickest too, which bode well for me. The ref re-emphasized the rules of no head, groin or neck shots and I took the time to size up my competition. I recognised 2 of my 3 competitors. I was relatively new to the group, having just moved to the beautiful city of North Las Vegas from Kingman, Arizona because Dad got a promotion that brought him here. He was all for it anyway since it was freaking Las Vegas. I wasn’t so happy with it because I had to leave my friends, especially Connor. I missed Connor so much it was stupid. He and I used to do everything together and wouldn’t be separated. His parents were like second parents to me and visa versa with him and my Dad. I missed HIM, not the town though, even though that’d been where I was born and where my Mom had died. I was happy to leave the small town minds and the memory of my mom’s illness and death in that small house. Dad had perked up significantly since the move 7 months ago and I couldn’t blame him. But I digress.
The shrill whistle startled me out of my reverie and it almost cost me the match. A staff was sweeping in my peripheral vision and I barely managed to hop over the sweep and strike my opponent in the back, causing him to stumble forward. I found myself back to back with the unknown participator and we together eliminated the other 2.
Another whistle before we had a short break before the final round. I rubbed out a shoulder that’d received a brutal blow while the unknown competitor bent forward, removing his helmet and shook out his hair. I stared for a moment like a bee who’d spotted pollen. The platinum blond locks were almost white in color, similar to mine, which was a rare color indeed. His skin was tanned like he spent a lot of time outdoors or in a tanning booth, and his nose was Roman-looking with a predominantly straight bridge and high, angular cheek bones that bordered on feminine. He turned to me, crystal blue eyes catching my attention before blinding me with a shining, brilliantly white smile. I’d never seen a more handsome man outside of a movie screen.
“Good luck,” he said, extending a hand.
I startled again when I realized I was still standing there, staring. I nodded exaggeratedly at him while taking his hand in a firm shake. He pushed his helmet back on his head just before the whistle blew again. Staffs posed, we circled each other a long moment, neither wanting to be aggressor. Finally I grew tired and stuck first. He easily countered my strike and we were instantly a swirl of armor, hands and staff. I flung out a foot, landing my foot against his solid chest, making him stumble, but he caught himself and swiped at my foot in return, shifting my balance off kilter for a moment. His staff came at me while I was trying to get myself solid again and managed to spin, dodging the staff and shoving the end of my staff into his midsection squeezing a grunt from him as he fell back onto his butt. There was a moment of silence before the others began whistling and shouting their approval. I grinned underneath my helmet and I heard guttural laughter drifting my way, which could only be coming from the shaking shoulders and heaving chest of my blond opponent.
“That was great,” he said, removing his helmet again and grinning up at me from his lounging position on the floor. “I’ve never seen footwork like that before.”
I nodded at him before turning and heading out toward the exit of the gym.
“Hey!” came a voice not far behind me. “Hey wait!”
I hurried my steps but he jogged and caught my arm.
“Wait a minute,” he said fingering his hair out of his eyes, “What’s your name?”
“Sam,” I tried to sound as man-ish as I could manage.
“Sam, Are you going to the national competition?” he asked, removing his hand from my arm.
I remained silent.
“You seriously should. I got 3rd last time and I’ve only gotten faster and stronger since.”
I nodded again at him and tried to step around him.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing my arm again, his hand brushing a breast in the process.
His eyes widened and he dropped my arm like it was diseased. I’d worn a constrictive sports bra like I always did, and with the baggy armored suit, nobody had ever noticed my DD’s.
Until now.
My face grew hot and I tried to walk away again, jogging toward my car. My new blonde friend didn’t come after me at first. But he easily caught up to me, dragging at my arm again. He was beginning to leave a bruise.
“Sam,” he called while I tried to pull away. “Samantha,” he said, his voice low and even.
It made me cringe.
I stilled and went with him while he pulled me behind the building where the cars were parked.
He yanked at my helmet and I gasped as he caught sight of me. My blond hair was almost as bright as his, but mine had more gold streaks than his. Blue eyes met grey and the expression on his face wasn’t quite what I’d expected. He looked shocked at first, eyes wide, than his face broke into a grin.
“Fuck me,” he said under his breath while he shook his head in amusement. “A girl beat me...”
I pulled my arm back, crossing them
over my traitorous chest, trying to look angry while I explored his face again.
“You should definitely come to nationals,” he said with that grin still on his face.
My gaze shot to his eyes before hesitantly asking, “You’re not going to rat me out?”
“Rat you out?” He asked back, “Hell no I’m not going to rat you out. If you can fight like that you deserve the chance to play just like everyone else.”
My heart swelled at that moment. I still had a chance to play in this city.
“I don’t want to get all involved. I know it’s a man’s game around here and that I’m not welcome, but I love it and I’m good at it. I just want to keep to myself and keep playing.”
“Why?”
I stared at him like he was stupid,
“C’mon, let me buy you a drink and I’ll convince you,”
“I’m underage.”
“You don’t know what drink I was going to take you to get,” he said, one corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk.
I eyed him for a minute. Sure he was a virtual stranger, but he was so attractive he deserved a chance. How shallow was I?
“What’s your name?” I asked him before answering.
“Oh!” he said, sounding surprised, “Wow I can’t believe I haven’t said yet. I’m Tyler.”
“Fine, but we stay in a public place,” I told him as I started unzipping my white armor suit. He paused in his own unzipping to watch.
It was my turn to pause. He looked up from my breasts when I stopped moving and gave a sheepish grin.
“I’ll just go wait by my car,” he said, tying the arms of his suit around his thin hips.
His chest peeked through the white t-shirt clinging with sweat to dense muscle.
I watched his little butt sway as he walked toward a group of cars, but got caught when he turned around and caught me staring. His grin came back, and he turned around again, exaggerating his swagger for me. I rolled my eyes with a grin of my own before ducking into my car as players began exiting the building. I pulled the suit the rest of the way off my legs in my seat and ducked while someone came near my window as they got into their car.
Chapter 2
I waited a good five minutes before lifting my head back up and peeking to see if the coast was clear. There were a couple cars off near the entrance of the building, and there was one car sitting about 30 feet away with Tyler leaning against the door.
It was a beautiful car. An expensive car.
A rich boy.
It figured.
He was looking off in the distance and I thought briefly about driving away before he could stop me. My curiosity got the better of me before I could get the guts to leave. I turned the key and the engine of my burgundy ‘91 Taurus turned over with effort. I pulled up next to Tyler’s car and he ducked his head to peek inside.
“Want to ride with me?” he asked while inspecting the interior.
“I’ll follow you,” I told him and waved for him to get into his own car.
He threw another one of those smiles at me before sliding into the seat of his furiously modern ‘07 Challenger that had just come out a few months before. I tried not to feel aggravated at the privilege he obviously lived with. He tore out of the parking space and I followed closely, which wasn’t hard since he went slower than I imagined he would. Maybe so my ancient car could keep up.
It wasn’t long before we pulled into a shopping mall and he parked in the middle of the almost deserted parking lot. My stomach turned in anxiety wondering if he was just a really good looking serial killer. He was quickly out of his car and knocking on my window. He pointed to a shop and I took a deep breath to calm my wild nerves before opening the door.
I followed him into a smoothie shop and felt a bit better. I watched his steps. Feet clad in the newest Vans shoes, khaki cargo shorts and that white t-shirt finished him off. I almost matched with my white tank top and white sports bra underneath with my light blue short-shorts and canvas shoes.
“2 bubble teas,” Tyler said to the cashier as he dug through his back pocket.
He pulled out his wallet, giving the woman a 20 before turning with our drinks in his hand.
“Oh Sir!” the cashier called, holding out his change.
He turned and said “Keep it,” before giving me one drink with a smile.
We left the shop and stood under the overhang for a minute before Tyler suggested “Want to go sit on the cars? It’s not too hot today to sit on the hoods.”
It was fall in Las Vegas. Temperatures were sitting in the 80’s currently so I agreed. The sun still felt great against my skin. Tyler perched himself on the black hood of his car and patted the spot next to him. I handed him my drink before climbing up much less gracefully than he’d managed.
With that ever present grin on his face he handed my drink back to me and put his own straw in his mouth.
“You ever had bubble tea before?” He asked.
I shook my head and took a long sip. Chunks filled my mouth and I gagged. Bubble tea shot out of my mouth and nose.
Tyler laughed hard before assuring me in a breathless voice, “The chunks are supposed to be there.”
“What the hell was THAT?” I gagged.
After waiting for him to stop laughing he settled back against the windshield and answered, “That was bubble tea.”
“Wow, thanks Captain Obvious.”
He chuckled again and took another sip.
“Those are little tapioca balls,” he said while chewing. “It’s like tapioca pudding, but in tea smoothie form.”
I eyed the cup again and took a big breath before giving it another try, now that I knew what to expect. After a short burst of sweet green tea flavor I rolled some of the balls around in my mouth. They definitely had the tapioca pudding texture to them and I decided to believe Tyler.
“So you bring everybody you meet here so you can get a laugh?” I asked, feeling a little sheepish now.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed. I guess I assumed you’d had it before since you didn’t ask what it was.”
“I would have if I knew you could get drinks with food in them in Las Vegas.”
He laughed again. “Are you new here?”
“My dad and I moved here in April. Halfway through the school year.”
He paused in his drinking. “How old are you?”
“19,” It was my turn to assure him this time.
“Whew,” he said, wiping his hand over his forehead exaggeratedly. “I thought you were my ticket to jail there for a second!”
“Well how old are you?” I asked back, unable to help the smile curving my lips upwards.
“23,” he answered, looking around the parking lot.
There was a silence between us for a couple minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“So,” he asked, propping his cup on the hood between us. “You’re 19, you like quarterstaff, what else should I know about you?” he asked, looking into my eyes.
“Well, that depends wholly on how much you want to know.”
“Well, you said you moved here with your dad. You have any siblings? Tell me about your family.”
I looked into the top of my cup for a minute, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t be either curt or too much information.
“Well,” I told him. “My mom passes when I was 9, and I don’t have any siblings so it’s just me and my dad. We’re pretty tight.”
“Me too,” he said, his eyes twinkling a little. “Well, my mom didn’t pass away, she just left. But it’s just been me and my dad for a long while.”
Another silence.
“What do you like to do?” I asked now.
“Other than quarterstaff?” he asked. “I just mostly help out with my dad’s job. He has me learning the ropes so that’s not much time for anything else anymore.”
“What’s your dad do?” I asked.
“He works at a hotel,” he answered then quickly asked, “Wh
at about you?”
“Oh, I used to hang out with my friends most of the time, but since we moved here I just put my head to my books until graduation.”
He nodded.
We went on for a while like that. He was so easy to talk to and I found myself sharing things about myself, likes and dislikes that I rarely shared with people. And although I liked him, I really, really didn’t like the drink he got me. I just ended up holding it as we talked.
After a couple hours we watched the sun dipping in the sky, threatening to set when we reached a lull in the conversation.
A few minutes of silence passed before he tucked his hand behind his head and looked at me, one side of his lips curled up and eyes narrowed.
“So,” he asked, “What was that move when you threw me on my ass?”
“The spin?” I asked, shifting my shoulders to look toward him.
“Whatever it was that you did to beat the crap out of me,” he specified.
“Oh, it was just a spin and sweep someone in my last group taught me,” I shrugged.
“Will you show me?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in question.
“You want to be thrown on your ass again?” I retorted.
He snorted a laugh and sat up.
“C’mon,” he said, holding his hand out for me to get down.
I took it and he slid me off the hood. After settling the bubble tea cup on the hood, I took position and he swiped quickly at me with his leg. I spun, jumping off the ground to spin his attack off, then slammed a fist into his stomach since my staff was in the car.
He bent over and held his midsection with a laugh.
“That was even more impressive now that I was paying attention,” he gasped out as he tried to catch his breath again.
I just grinned at him.
“Ok, again, but slower so I can learn it.”
He stood upright again and we both slowed our moves exaggeratedly so he could see how I did it. After going over it twice, he gave it a try. I spun and swept a foot at him and he did the little spin-hop beautifully, but instead of putting his fist in my stomach, he charged me, his hands wrapping around my waist and throwing me against the hood.