by Kitty Cox
"Halo?" Amy whispered to Braden.
"Her tattoos," he explained, tapping his shoulder. "They cover the scars."
"Yeah. Except Pac Man." Dez patted her leg. "By the fourth day, they started getting pissed at each other. One dared another to do something, and back and forth. Eventually one of them said, 'you're a fag.' Yeah, lots of whining about who was and wasn't, and then they realized that it would be so easy to prove. I was hanging right there, like a waiting slab of meat."
Amy sucked in a breath. "Oh god," she whispered.
"They had to drop me from the ceiling for the blow jobs," Dez said, her voice emotionless.
"That's not a blow job," Braden told her. "That's rape."
Dez nodded, but her eyes were focused on the past. "Dunno what else to call it, though. I mean, dick in my mouth, you know? I bit the first one. That's how I got Doom. Zelda came when they tried to tie me back up. They didn't bother dressing me again. I mean, they'd cut through my clothes, so, yeah. For the next thirteen days, I was like one of those inflatable punching bags. The more scared they got that they'd get caught, the worse my life was. After the tenth day, I started thinking that if I pushed them enough, I could make them end it. It didn't work."
"How'd you get free?" Sam asked.
Dez shook her head. "I didn't. Blog reader named Soul_Reaper had been keeping screens of the crap. After I went missing, he posted that he had them and would turn them over to police, and how to get in touch with him. They did, and the server records led to a cell phone which led to the area, which ended up with cops checking the building. The guys would leave me alone all night – so they could go home, I guess. But when I heard feet, I started to panic, and the officer heard me."
"You ever find Soul_Reaper?" Chance asked.
She shook her head. "Couldn't look. The internet saved me, but it also damned me. I just couldn't look at my blog again." Her dark eyes met his, begging for understanding.
He nodded. "When you're ready, I'll help. You just have to ask, Sugar."
She pressed her head against his arm, a rare enough thing, but all the more precious because he knew she was scared. "I'm trying."
"Step by step," he whispered. "You're not alone. We're not alone."
She gestured at the screen. "And I want everyone else who has been treated like this to know it. I want every girl gamer who has been told to get back in the kitchen or every guy who says he'll rape someone, thinking it's a joke, to know that we are very real."
Amy leaned forward, her eyes on Dez. "They'll still send you emails. It'll be on the forums. Standing up will only make them scream louder. This isn't going to be easy."
Dez turned to look at her. "I know. You going to help?"
"What can I do?" Amy asked. "I'm fucked up enough. I mean, Chance is giving me a place to crash, so I can just get through finals. Yes, I want to help, but I don't know how."
"We need a receptionist." Dez looked at Chance. "Someone to answer the phones, greet the clients and join the team. We need someone to handle the parts that have nothing to do with building a game – file papers, keep the coffee ordered, things like that."
"Kinda what I was thinking," Change said softly. "But wanted to make sure you agreed."
"She'd be perfect."
Amy nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I can definitely do that."
Dez took a long breath and looked around the room. "F5 is going to get real. Silk can stand on its own now, but it's not perfect." She tilted her head to the blank screen. "That? Yeah, that's going to stir up the media. Silk will get a boost from it, but the company is going to be in the limelight. All of us, especially me, Jeff, and Braden, are going to be dissected."
Tim chuckled at that. "Yeah? Wanna poke the bear?" He grinned and tapped a key. "Demo two will go with this song."
Eerie music, almost like it was underwater, flowed from the speakers. Tim lifted an eyebrow and smiled, then it shifted slightly. Part jazz, part dubstep, with a trance-like tune, it was hypnotic.
"What is it?" Dez asked.
"Flawed." Tim gestured to each swell of the music. "Every measure will feature a developer. To the side, we'll have examples of the hate we get." He patted his belly. "Like how I need a few more cheeseburgers so I'll have a heart attack. We'll list the credentials, full name of the person, then move to the next."
Sam was bobbing her head in agreement. "Take two measures. Do a pass through the office, freeze frame on a headshot, then on the second measure, superimpose the demon look." She smiled and looked over at Dez and Chance. "Make it follow her through the gauntlet, meltdown, and end it with an arm reaching down to offer her a hand, then morph both her and the arm into monsters."
Chance chuckled once. "My arm, huh?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. And as often as you're going to be on TV, you'd better either wear long-sleeves or know they'll figure it out."
"Let them guess," Chance said. "They'll know it's me, but good luck figuring out my flaw."
Amy shifted, then twitched her hand before finally just asking, "What is it?"
"Addicted to sex. Was locked in a basement for two months as a kid, need physical contact to assure me that I'm not forgotten. Sex is pretty physical."
Jeff chuckled at that. "Yeah, and the endorphin release causes a positive feedback association in his brain. So, he wants assurance, gets it, then is rewarded. Just like Pavlov's dogs. Now, he feels down about anything, and his brain demands another 'fix,' which sends him out on the prowl."
"How do I stop it?" Chance asked.
Jeff smiled and leaned back. "Find a new fix. Has to be a guaranteed benefit, though. It's how most addictions work." He looked at Dez. "Most. Opiates don't count."
"So," Dez's brow was furrowed. "Something goes wrong, and say, he smokes a bowl, that'd replace it?"
"Yeah, but probably give him a mental addiction to pot instead."
She chewed her lip. "Viable options?"
"Food is a common one," Jeff told her. "Prescription anti-depressants can help but aren't a sure thing. A therapist would be best, but that's putting it out there. Um..."
"Touch," Chance said softly, leaning toward her. "Minor variation of the same thing, much more special when it means so much more."
Dez looked at him. "I'm willing."
"Oh," Braden drawled. "Next thing you know, they'll be making out all the time."
"Hey," Sam said. "I, for one, won't complain. It's good for both of them. Besides, they're cute."
"Yeah they are," Amy agreed. "Why are the guys like that always taken?"
Around the room the devs laughed, a few leaning forward. "Single," Braden told her.
"Me too," Jeff said.
Flynn shook his head. "Means I'm a good one. Married with two kids."
"Divorced," Mark said.
Gavin shrugged. "Girlfriend, sorry."
They all turned to look at Andy. The corner of his lip twitched, but he looked away. "Gay."
"Bi," Braden said. "And here I was worried about dropping that bomb."
Andy chuckled once. "Nah. Figured it out when you kept looking at Chance. Guess I need a new flaw to add to my list, huh?"
"Doesn't count," Mark told them. "Either of you. Whether you're pansexual like Chance, demisexual like Dez, hetero, homo, bisexual." He shook his head. "It's not a flaw. Sorry, guys."
"Wait," Chance said. "What did you call me?"
Mark smiled deviously. "Pansexual. You just like sex, man. Don't really care with who. I've seen your dates. The only thing they have in common is that they'll do you."
He shook his head. "All women."
"Yeah, because you know how to get them. Tell me, would you turn down a transgendered lady?"
He sighed and slowly shook his head. "No, probably not. You're gonna make me Google, aren't ya."
"Yeah. Mainly because I think your past altered your perceptions and made you more open to people as a whole. It makes you pretty damned successful, but it'll make committing harder if you keep looking for things you
just can't have. And that's not real fair to Dez." He shrugged, but the smirk on his face warned that what came next wasn't necessarily nice. "Pretty sure a few of us would gladly take her off your hands. Touching or not."
Dez's head snapped up. "What?"
Mark lifted his hands in innocence. "I'm not getting laid as it is. Chance fucks up, Braden and I are duking it out for rights to pick you up."
Jeff chuckled. "And while they act like cavemen, I'll woo you with my amazing comprehension of dental floss armor."
She held up her middle finger. "Love you guys. No, really. All of you, even the new girl."
"So, she's hired?" Chance asked.
Dez nodded. "If she can hack the hours and the sexual harassment these guys throw around."
They all laughed, but Amy was smiling. "Luke is going to be so jealous!"
Chance leaned back, smiling proudly. "Someone get Amy a damned account for Silk? Block out her name in the options, too. Flawed team just grew by one."
"What's her flaw?" Jeff asked.
The girl lifted her eyes to Chance. "Fear of confrontation, lack of self-confidence, and a bit of an adrenaline junkie."
He nodded at her slowly. "So we start helping to fix those one at a time. Someone put her on the board. We're ready for F5."
Chapter 22
Amy fit in like she belonged there. Even better, she was good for Chance. For two weeks, Dez watched him flirt with the girl, amused that he had no idea he was even doing it. She wasn't jealous. Ok, maybe a little. Mostly it was watching Amy touch his arm, or Chance pat her shoulder as he walked past. But Dez liked her. She really liked her. Of all the people in the shop, it felt like Amy actually understood her and her crazy relationship.
She'd also proven herself to be great at keeping the shop running. Developers were a bit like mad scientists. They became immersed in the next great thing and forgot all of the necessities that happened in between, but not Amy. Once she started working for Deviant, a lot of the minor problems just vanished: the printers always had paper, the cleaning service was scheduled, and the coffee never ran out. Then she proved that she could talk.
Not the running off at the mouth kind. Nope, Amy had no stage fright. She could address vendors, game media reporters, and rabid fans with the same level of professionalism, and she loved it. When that girl started talking about Silk – after becoming addicted to playing it – even Dez wanted to rush out and pre-order the ultimate box set. She wasn't just the receptionist; Amy had become the public relations manager for Deviant Games.
It made it easier to leave for F5. Most of the Flawed team were flying to the convention, but not Dez. Chance said they needed to drive across the country to haul the equipment. She knew better. He was keeping her off the planes. Airports were horrible places for her, but three days in a car? Alone? With Chance? Yeah, that was nice.
He drove, saying she couldn't get behind the wheel until she could go twenty-four hours without drugs. Dez hadn't taken a pill in weeks but didn't care. This gave her more opportunities to look at him, and she took every one. A few times, she even touched him. Each tiny caress with her fingers received a tender smile. It didn't matter if she just touched his leg, his arm, or tried to hold his hand. Any time Dez offered contact, Chance acted like she'd just given him the greatest treasure. He never once took it for granted.
And she still hadn't kissed him.
She'd tried once. He didn't know it because he'd been asleep, but she'd leaned over to kiss his head. Two inches away, the panic set in. Touching was hard, but with her mouth? This wasn't just sharing a sucker. Kissing him meant something, and she couldn't force herself past that hurdle. Not yet. She would this weekend, though. Dez swore to herself that F5 would be when she learned how to actually kiss a man. She deserved this. She also wanted it really, really badly.
They arrived in Las Vegas late Friday afternoon. The convention center was in a state of chaos, which was normal as every game company tried to set up the most impressive gaming booth ever. They weren't any different. With ten computers to demo Silk, two more reserved for developers, another pair for the media, and monitors hung from the top of their curtained stall, Deviant Games looked like one of the "big boys" in the industry. Dez was proud – nervous as hell, but still proud.
Everywhere, there were people. Reporters were trying to get pre-convention quotes. The Gamer Channel had a crew roaming around, filming the set-up process. Blog reviewers and podcasters wandered among them, wonderstruck. It was Disneyland for geeks. A place filled with tons of hands, shoulders, and bodies to brush and bump her anytime she turned a corner.
But Dez had her team. Braden took his job as her protector seriously. She couldn't even go to the bathroom without him waiting at the door. And if someone tried to touch her? There was nothing like six feet of Aryan-looking muscle to remind them to keep a polite distance. In other words, his bouncer routine was kinda cute, and it actually helped. It didn't make the panic go away, but it sure helped.
While the guys set up the monitors and external portion of their stall, Amy began scheduling interviews with anyone who wanted them, and Dez made sure the cables were secure and duct-taped to the floor. Over that would go a rug, but she wasn't willing to risk their entire booth crashing because a cord got loose. It was a small space, and almost the entire Flawed team was there: Chance, Braden, Amy, Sam, Tim, Andy, Jeff, and Mark. Gavin and Flynn had elected to keep the shop running with all the minor developers.
Around the edge, Chance was doing his thing. Every few feet, Dez would look up, admiring the beauty of him. His ivory skin and scarlet hair stood out in the crowd. The cluster of women around him made it even more obvious. Then she'd crawl a few more feet, and tape down the next section, before looking at him again.
He flirted. Chance always flirted; he didn't know any other way, but when the ladies smiled back, he'd look over. Dez felt her face growing warmer and tried hard to ignore it. He hadn't brought home a date since Amy – not that she really counted. That was the last time Chance had gone "hunting." That didn't mean he didn't miss it, though, and she knew all too well what happened at game conventions.
Around them, the rest of the world was just a distraction. The moments caught in his silver eyes made the sound of people tolerable. The smell of bodies and pounding of feet faded into the background. Dez hung on his next move, even as she made their demonstration area perfect. She might be obsessed with the fire god, but not even he was worth making a mistake. Their future hung on Silk being the next best thing, and that's the only reason Dez was here. It was the only thing that would make her brave the insanity of a crowd. She loved this game as much as he did. It was their bastard love child, conceived before she knew how amazing he really was.
While Sam and Braden hung the thick drapes that would shield their game from casual view, Chance excused himself. She heard it over all the other sounds. The girl before him was leaning a little too close, her questions about him, not the game. Without breaking stride, he introduced her to Amy and moved around the other side. She smiled and tried to focus on the next cable. She almost succeeded, until she felt him just behind her.
Chance leaned over her shoulder, his body just inches from hers. "As soon as they sing, we can get out of here for the night. You need help?"
Her teeth found her lower lip before she looked up. "No date?"
He looked over her shoulder, then back. His expression was a little too serious. "I'm trying, Dez. I want to, but I won't."
"I've never asked you to stop."
He made a muffled noise and grabbed the cable beside her. "How long since you've had a pill?"
"Just over two weeks."
"Yeah." His body was focused on securing the connection but looked too tense. "Since that bitch bit me. That's the last time we both got high, right?"
And there it was. They both got high. Their addictions had become something they did together, and getting clean would be the same. She gently touched his hand, the tips of her fingers j
ust brushing the back. He froze, unwilling to break the contact.
"How do I help?" she asked.
"That." He finally looked at her. Not at what was going on around her, but right at her, and the crowd kept their conversation completely private. "Don't let me disappear, Sugar, because this is harder than I thought."
She nodded, her eyes lost in his. "I want to kiss you."
His shoulders relaxed but his mouth parted. It was an expression partly made of shock, and partly pleasure. "Really?"
"Yeah." She forced out a laugh to hide her embarrassment and plugged another cable into the server.
"Dez, look at me." When she did, he was smiling. "Maybe tonight?"
"I couldn't last time."
"There was a last time?" He ducked his head, begging her to explain.
"You were sleeping, but I couldn't."
Chance's smile grew, one side higher than the other. "What else do you do when I'm sleeping?"
She laughed, knowing where his mind was going. "Fuck off."
He just leaned closer, his lips beside her ear. "I'd rather do that with you. Tonight I'll teach you how to kiss, and we'll start small." He reached over her shoulder for a screwdriver, so damned close to touching her. "You can kiss my hand. Then my wrist." He shifted around her to whisper in the other ear. "And if you're really brave, I might let you lick the sugar from this sucker off my lip."
Stepping back, he pulled one from his pocket with a devious smile. Dez knew she was breathing too hard, and it felt like everyone around them knew how excited he made her. She tried to look away, but Chance had his audience, and he knew exactly how to work it. As he unwrapped the sucker and slipped it into his mouth, his eyes said he wasn't thinking about candy at all.
