Flawed

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Flawed Page 21

by Kitty Cox


  "So you're worried that this Dez – I assume that's your girlfriend – thinks you raped her? Or are you worried that you got caught?"

  Chance smiled weakly. "No, Dez always picks. But I've spent months proving to her that I'm not like that. I want her to understand that having someone touch you isn't violent."

  Amy reached across the table and set her gentle fingers on his. "She was abused?"

  For a moment he chewed at his lip, but the feel of her hand on his made him give in. For once, he needed someone to listen, and she was willing. "Kidnapped. They had her over two weeks. She still wakes up screaming. Every time someone touches her – the feeling of human skin, even through her clothing – her body is convinced she's about to be raped again."

  Amy let out a breath and nodded. "So why are you at the pool hall and not talking to her?"

  He lifted his glass and took a drink, staring at the table. "Because I'm terrified that I'm going to hurt her. If I do the wrong thing with her, it'll ruin everything. We had a photo shoot today, and I touched her. Her face in my hand, my arm across her. I can feel her tense. I can feel that she's scared of me."

  "But she let you touch her, right?" Amy's fingers slid over the ink on his arm. "Her body says no, her mind says yes. She trusts you, and I don't think you could hurt her. You don't seem like the type."

  "I never know what's going to hurt her."

  "Life." Amy shrugged. "It has a way of doing that, but having someone to lean on is kinda nice."

  He took a long deep breath and nodded. "Thanks."

  "You don't really want to sleep with me, do you." She stated it as fact, but the question was there.

  He moved his hand, squeezing her fingers before grabbing his glass again. "No." The answer shocked him as much as her. "I think I was just looking for a kindred soul. I see it in your eyes."

  "The dark makeup didn't tip you off?"

  "It's a mask. Means nothing. It's your eyes that hold the secrets." That's when he realized a little of the burden he'd been carrying all day had vanished. "So, why are you listening to me? Why do you care?"

  "Probably the same reason you asked about my amazing relationship. I don't feel like you're judging me, just offering a shoulder. It's kinda nice."

  Chance turned the conversation back to her. "How often does he lose his temper?"

  She shrugged. "Once a week? Normally I just leave until it blows over. He used to be mysterious and charming. Lately? He's just controlling. I just have to make it work for a couple of weeks."

  He pulled out another business card and slid it across the table. "Well, I owe you. Any time, any reason." He tapped the number on the front. "If you can't get me, call the main number and ask for Dez."

  "Just call the CEO of Deviant Games like he's my best friend? Or his girlfriend?"

  "CFO, actually. Dez is CEO now. It's not like we're a big company."

  "Not yet." She smiled. "And to answer your question, I'd quit WoW because the Silk community was active, engaging, and entertaining. It comes down to the people, not just the game. Police the community, ban those who cause problems, and more will play. Keep it a safe and fun place, and we'll log in."

  He looked at his watch. "They should have the trailer ready for review. I should get back."

  "What, no alpha code for all of this?"

  He slipped out of the chair and leaned over the table. "Remember, I won the game. You want a code, you'll have to apply." He reached over and pushed a strand of hair back from her ear. "But I might be watching for an Amy that's local."

  "It's Amy Weinbach. Mailing address isn't local."

  "That makes it easier." He smiled at her. "Have a good evening, and the offer really is there."

  "Yeah. Good luck with Dez."

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, Chance was leaving alone. The strange part was that he was perfectly ok with the idea. Amy was right, he needed to talk to Dez, not run from her. He needed to broach the tough subjects between them. Otherwise, things would just stagnate. His little Sugar had come so far already, but he needed to ask for more so she could say yes, because she didn't know to want it. They were taking baby steps, but they both had to take them.

  That meant sometimes he needed to stop fucking around. If Dez could give up Vicodin, he could give up easy women. Mark had said they would slip, and he would, but if he didn't try, he'd never be a good man for her. That was all he wanted. He wanted to see Dez smile. Besides, what was the worst that would happen if he didn't fuck some other girl? He wouldn't really fade away, and if he felt like it, just talking to Dez made it all go away. She made him feel so real, so worthy, and so very important.

  He found his truck, started it, rolled down the windows to let the heat out, and checked his phone. It was barely six p.m. The team would still be going, and maybe they'd even let him help. They kept saying it was a surprise for him, but he hated being out of the loop. Whatever they were doing, though, they were damned proud of it.

  He backed out and headed home. When he was almost out of the entertainment district, his phone rang. A glance showed a number he wasn't familiar with. Who would call him at six on a Saturday evening? Slowing for a red light, he swiped at the screen to answer it.

  "Deviant Games, this is Chance."

  A guy was on the other end, frantic. "Chance, it's Luke, you know, from Radiant with the alpha code? Look, Drake just yanked Amy out of here by her hair." He sounded really nervous. "Man, I tried to get our friends to come, but they think it's funny. Said she deserves it for talking to you."

  He flicked on a blinker. "Where are they going?"

  "He took her out back, you know, behind the pub. I went to check, and he's screaming at her. Told him to back off and he shoved my ass into the ground." Luke lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "Dude, I don't know who else to call. He's shoving her around pretty good."

  "I'm headed back," Chance said, keeping his voice calm. "If you can get her back in public, he probably won't follow."

  "I can't," Luke said. "She's not backing down this time. He's gonna fucking beat her ass into the ground."

  "Fuck," Chance breathed.

  This was his fault. This was what happened when he stuck his nose in other people's lives. That meant he had to fix this. He pressed harder on the gas.

  Chapter 20

  The parking lot behind the buildings was quiet until the dark SUV pulled in quickly. Chance left it running and hopped out, seeing the skinny kid in black pacing beside the building. When he looked up at the noise, the side of his face was red and already swelling. His clothes were stained with road dust.

  "Where?" Chance asked.

  Luke just pointed to the gap between Radiant and the pub. It was all the direction he needed. Adrenaline was already flowing and Chance was pissed. He stormed in the direction of Luke's finger, walking down the long, narrow brick alley. If he reached out, he could touch both buildings. There was no place to hide in here, but he still couldn't see her. Then a yelp pierced the air.

  He jogged faster, following the sound. Halfway down, there was a gap that led to a back door. He barely turned the corner before he saw the couple. Amy was on the ground, her arms over her face, but he saw the busted lip. Drake was stepping in for more, and Chance was going to kill him.

  "I don't fucking think so," Chance growled, shoving himself between them. "Amy, get in the truck."

  "He'll kill you!"

  Chance smiled. "Not today. C'mon, Drake. I'm not scared of hitting someone my own size."

  "Fuckin' rich boy. I'll show you pain."

  Drake swung. His fist caught the edge of Chance's jaw, but he was already in motion. Grabbing the man's long black hair, Chance used Drake's momentum to force him into the wall, skull first. A fist to the kidney came next. Drake struggled, shoving him back, and it was on.

  Chance was too pissed to feel the pain. The blows against his own body seemed distant, unimportant. He just wanted the bastard to stop. Drake just had to make one move to back d
own, but he wouldn't, so Chance kept hitting and each swing got harder. With every crunch of flesh, Drake slid lower, until he stopped shoving back.

  Chance pushed at him one more time. "I told you. Treasured. Don't ever fucking hit a girl again." Then he stepped back and glanced at his hands.

  Raw, bruised, and about to be swollen wrecks, they looked like Braden's. He shook it off, not even caring, then turned. Amy stood in the alley, her hands over her face. Mascara leaked down her cheeks and her arms held her shirt against her chest. From the tear at the shoulder, they were probably the only thing keeping it on. He moved toward her slowly, gesturing to the parking lot.

  "Let's get you someplace safe," he said gently.

  "You beat the shit out of him!"

  "He was trying to do that to you." He grabbed her shoulders and turned. "C'mon, hun. You're going to need something for your face."

  She shook her head. "But I don't have anywhere to go."

  "Yeah," he whispered into her hair, leading her out. "You do."

  "I don't have keys."

  "We'll take care of that." He pulled her closer. "Two weeks, huh? You know how to answer phones and type?"

  Her brow wrinkled. "Yeah? Doesn't everyone?"

  "No," he said gently, stepping out of the alley.

  Luke was there, pacing, looking worried. When he saw Chance, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Dude, I thought he was murdering you."

  "Wrong way around," Chance assured him. "He's gonna be pissed. Will he take it out on you?"

  Luke just shook his head. "He has no clue. Amy, you can stay on my couch. Lisa will get over it."

  "It's cool," Chance assured him. "I'll put her up for a couple weeks until we can work something out."

  "Right." Luke dragged out the word in disbelief. "And your girlfriend is going to be perfectly ok with you taking home some chick you were hitting on. That's gonna get ugly."

  "First, she doesn't care. Second, I have a couple options. Third, if Drake tries to break into Deviant Games, that won't go over so well." Chance gently rubbed Amy's shoulder. "We'll get you cleaned up, a shirt that's in one piece, and tomorrow we'll deal with getting you to class and cleaning out your shit."

  "We?" she asked.

  Chance smiled. "You're flawed, and you're not alone. It'll all make sense soon. Get in the truck and let me take you back to the shop?"

  "Call me," Luke begged. "I know where the place is. If you need a ride or whatever?"

  Amy just nodded and pulled herself out from under Chance's protective arm. She walked around the side and opened the passenger door, then Chance turned back to the kid. He held out his hand.

  "Thanks, man. Ice that cheek or it's going to bruise."

  Luke clasped it. "Yeah. You're gonna do good by her, right?"

  "We've got some rooms for programmers that come short term. I'll set her up in one until she can get something else." Chance shook his hand, the cuts starting to sting. "I have no sympathy for bastards that think beating a woman is acceptable. Stay away from him, Luke, because his world is about to get real ugly."

  "What are you doing?"

  Chance smiled. "Reporting the meth lab. Drake's going to jail, and my attorney is a lot better than his." He patted the guy's shoulder and turned for his truck.

  Amy didn't say much as they left. Probably because she'd taken a few slaps and at least one punch to the face. Chance kept looking over as he drove, trying to assess the damage.

  Her lip was split, her cheek bruised. At the side of her neck, he could make out a red mark shaped like a hand. Her shirt was definitely torn, her fishnet stockings were ripped across the knee, and the skin beneath was bloody. Her hair was messed up, but he couldn't see any blood in it. From the angle he was at, he couldn't be sure, but it looked like a scrape across her temple on the other side matched one on her chin.

  "You still with me?" he asked softly.

  She nodded. "I'm sorry to be such a problem." Her eyes stayed locked on the dash.

  "Part of being a friend," he assured her. "So, tell me your experience with games?"

  "All about the games with you, huh?" She offered a weak smile. "Mostly Xbox. Got some role-playing games, a few light entertainment, like Lego stuff, and shooters. Call of Duty, things like that. I play some PC stuff, but mostly MMOs, like WoW."

  "What other PC MMOs?"

  She sighed. "Spent some time in Eve, but gets expensive, you know? Not a fan of the Korean grinders usually, but I try a few. Always end up quitting."

  He turned off the highway. Almost home. "Know anything about programming?"

  "Nothing."

  "What about admin or secretarial?"

  Amy huffed a chuckle. "Yeah. Worked the front desk at the Holiday Inn, does that count?"

  Chance smiled. Yes, it did. "So, you do pretty good with people?"

  Slowly, she turned to face him. "I just got my ass beat by my boyfriend, and you're asking me that?"

  He glanced at her then turned his eyes back to the road. "Yeah. I mean, you don't have any phobias, like, oh, touching strangers?"

  "No. I mean, if I wash my face, I can impersonate someone normal pretty easily."

  "Good to know." Seeing the building rising from the grass around it, he slowed. "Welcome to Deviant Games. How bad is your shirt?"

  He pulled into the drive before she managed to answer. "Well, I might get arrested in public." She moved her hand and let him see. The whole right side had been torn. From the shoulder to the hip, the fabric was ruined, exposing a very sexy purple bra beneath.

  "Waste of a nice shirt." He turned off the truck and held up a finger. "There's a few guys inside, which is why I asked." Then he stepped out. Amy mimicked him, but Chance pulled off his shirt as he walked around to her side. He turned it right side out again, then offered it. "Best I can do on short notice."

  She smiled and made no effort to hide the fact that she checked out his chest. "Damn. If I'd known that was all I had to do to get you undressed, I woulda tried it sooner." Then she pulled the shirt over her head and worked the other off under it, wincing only slightly.

  "Sorry," he said a little too casually. "I don't sleep with employees." Then he stepped forward and pulled open the green metal door.

  "What?" she asked.

  Chance tilted his head, daring her to enter. Amy did, waiting just across the threshold. He once again put an arm over her shoulder and guided her up the short hall. The sound of voices was a comforting hum, a few random laughs breaking out. Amy tugged at her skirt, aware that she looked like a mess, then they were in the main room.

  The conversation softened but didn't die. Everyone still looked. They all knew he'd gone out. They all knew he was on the hunt, and they expected the girl with him to be heading to his bed. Dez looked last, but hers were the first eyes to widen.

  "Shit," she breathed.

  Braden shoved himself to his feet. "What the fuck?"

  Chance held up a hand. "Before you beat me, know there was a third person in our lovely afternoon, and he's lying on the ground."

  "She ok?" Braden pushed around the desks, his eyes on Amy.

  "She's Amy, and she can speak when spoken to."

  "Yeah," Amy said. "Hi."

  Braden walked right up to her and turned her face, his eyes on the damage. "Ice. Dez, how much of your shit for pain?"

  Dez had followed him but hung back. "Half. No more than twelve hours, and no more than four days without possible addiction."

  "I'm getting ice," Sam called.

  Mark was leaning over a computer. "I need to call the attorney?"

  "Not yet," Chance assured him. "That can wait until morning, and she'll just need a head's up."

  "You ok?" Dez asked, moving to his other side. She made a point of looking at his hands, then his jaw.

  He smiled. "I'm ok, Sugar. Just thought I might be able to act like a hero for once."

  "You're always a hero. She crashing on your couch?"

  He pulled his arm from Amy and turned to her.
"Well, I was thinking. Maybe we can shift your stuff upstairs and let her have your bed? She's got a couple of weeks left in college but is gonna need a place. I'd prefer she doesn't go back to the boyfriend that I just pissed off."

  Dez nodded. "Thought they didn't stay."

  "I didn't sleep with her. We talked about you."

  Amy leaned over. "Nice to meet you, woman of his dreams."

  Dez looked from Amy to Chance then back. "I'm confused."

  "Me too," he admitted softly, "but I didn't want to."

  "Aww," Braden teased. "K. So Amy's staying for a bit. Means she needs an NDA, a shower, something to wear that doesn't belong to the fire god, and food."

  "I'll order pizza," Jeff said, grabbing his phone.

  Andy pushed back his chair. "I know where to find the non-disclosure agreements."

  Dez looked at the girl. "I probably have something that will fit, and in the right color. Make-up, too."

  Amy sighed. "Thank you." She looked around the room. "Seriously. Thank you all."

  That's when Sam returned with two ziplock bags of ice and a plastic cup filled with water. "Braden, break one of those pills." She handed the glass to Amy. "Chance, your hands, before you fuck them up, because Dez can't do all the coding."

  "Pizza in forty-five," Jeff called out.

  They got everything sorted, and the team was adamant that Amy sign the NDA before she did anything else. She was amused by that but agreed. A few of the guys headed into Dez's apartment to start clearing it out, preparing to move her upstairs. Dez, on the other hand, was paying attention to Amy. Chance wasn't sure what to think of that. He didn't know if she was pissed or just being Dez.

  "She's using your shower," Dez told him, then gestured for the girl to follow.

  Amy patted his arm. "Thanks. Your girlfriend's pretty cool, too."

  "Don't touch her," he warned. "But she really is."

  Then suddenly the room felt empty. Braden grabbed Chance by the shoulders and moved him from the wall, steering him toward the closest chair. "I think you just got kicked out of your place by your bitches."

  "Amy isn't mine," Chance assured him. "Just a friend."

  "Ice on the knuckles or they swell like a bitch," Braden said, grabbing his hand and the bag to press them together. "So, was she going to be?"

 

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