by Nina Lincoln
“Sarah, get a fucking hold of yourself. Do you really want to go to jail over a guy?” I ask desperately.
She just laughs, the cackle sending a shiver of fear down my spine—visions of meeting the same end as my mother dancing through my head as I back slowly away.
After almost a year of fighting every bitch in sight, I’m down for a fucking fist to the head, but she’s got a knife, and I’d be foolish to do anything but leave.
Of course, with her crazy eyes dead center on me, it’s slow going.
“Did he call you the light when he fucked you?” she sing-songs, the eerie tone raising goosebumps on my skin.
Ignoring her painful words that I’ll dissect later, I spin on my heel and run for it. She’s right on my heels, and I can practically feel her breath on my neck as sweat slides down my sides, and I bypass my car for the street.
“Fuck!” she exclaims, and slowing, I turn back to see she’s stopped.
Cautiously, I stand in the street, panting harshly as she looks me over and, with a sad smile, whispers, “I’ll leave you to him. He’s got plans for you.”
With that, I watch, confused as she walks to her vehicle, gets inside, and drives away, leaving me with a good dose of freaked the fuck out.
Pushing my way inside the house on trembling limbs, I arm the alarm before sliding down to my ass against the door.
Who is him? Colt?
*****
Because I’ve already skipped my fair share of school, I’m back in the fucking lot the following day. Hayden picked me up grimly after bitching me out for leaving school without letting him know. Strangely I didn’t think he cared, and I’m charmed if chagrined by the lecture.
Colt’s waiting for me when I arrive, leaning against the wall with a brooding expression. For once, I’m eager to speak to him, and I exit the vehicle throwing my seat belt aside and slamming my door in my haste.
Colt’s eyes widen before they drop into a frown as I march up to him and poke him angrily in the chest.
“Tell your fucking bitch to back off!” I snarl.
He grabs my hand and presses it against his heart, his lips curling up in a smile as he says, “What bitch?”
“Sarah! She’s fucking crazy, Colt, and if you sicced her on me…”
“Calm down. I haven’t spoken to Sarah since the diner. What’s going on with you and Hayden?” he demands, searching my gaze with suspicion.
“Hayden? You want to talk about Hayden? Your fucking girlfriend is crazy!”
“Look, I haven’t seen Sarah. What did she do? Are you talking about the shit at the diner because I have no fucking clue where she came up with the shit she was spewing.”
Blinking, I think back. It seems so long ago now. “No? You didn’t tell her the same bullshit you told me? Whatever, I don't care-“
“No! I never fucking told her anything of the kind, why would I?” he says. He actually sounds…bewildered.
“Maybe because you were playing her like you played me,” I say through gritted teeth.
He scoffs, “Princess - I didn’t fucking say that to her. I’ve got plenty of ways to fucking torture someone without implying I fucking care.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you did to me?” I shout.
“No!” he shouts back, drawing the attention of several students who pause and then scurry by at his glare.
“No? Then what do you call what you did, Colt?” I sneer.
Grabbing my arm, he says between clenched teeth, “I made you think it was all a game on purpose, yes, but I didn’t fucking lie.”
“Everything was a lie,” I whisper, damning him for making me cry when my throat closes.
“No, Princess, not everything,” he says softly, leaning his forehead against mine.
“What are you playing at now?” I ask, both confused and sad.
Being near him exhilarates me, causing my heart to sing in my chest, but simultaneously I want to shrink from the intensity of how he makes me feel, for I’m afraid I will carry it with me forever.
Smirking, he says, “Maybe I’ve decided the greatest revenge I can get is to give in.”
“Give in?” I ask, bewildered.
“Yes, I’ve been fighting this since I saw your fine ass get out of that fucking Mercedes. I watched you carry your suitcase into Maggie’s house with a disgusted frown for the neighborhood, the house, and even Maggie, and still, I wanted you.”
“You watched me?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, I saw you. I promised Maggie I would help her put the last of the furniture together, and as I was leaving, you came. Fuck, Finn, you were fucking beautiful, but the look on your face, in your fancy-ass car. It was too much.”
“Colt, I was in mourning. Of course, I looked like an asshole,” I mutter, affronted.
“I know,” he says on a frustrated breath, “but I didn’t know then. All I knew was that your mom died. Shit Finn, I-“
“Shouldn’t that have been enough?”
“Probably yes, but you fucking wouldn’t leave my head, Finn. You know how I feel about that shit, and you fucking crawled in and wouldn’t leave. It pissed me off!”
The bell rings, and I look around. I’m late for first period. My mind is reeling with his revelations, but a part of me still doesn’t believe.
Looking at him sadly, I say softly, “None of this matters, Colt. I don’t even know if you’re telling me the truth right now.”
His eyes drop, his mouth curling into a grim smile, “Maybe so, but it is the truth, Finn. Maybe we’re like fire and ice, but you are mine, and I intend to show you.”
“I'm not yours, Colt. I’m no one’s. Besides, you said so yourself, love makes people do crazy things. Why would I want to be with you when you can’t see your way past your fears to allow someone into your heart?”
“You’re already fucking there,” he says harshly.
My chest clenches at his words, but I push it away at the pained look in his eyes because I can’t. I just can’t.
“Then why do you look so miserable?”
“Because I never wanted this,” he bellows.
Smiling sadly, I run my hand down his cheek, marveling at the beauty before me, murmuring, “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Pulling away, I walk off, and thankfully he doesn’t follow. Perhaps Colt’s taken off to lick his own wounds, but he leaves me alone for the remainder of the day, and while part of me feels vindicated my suspicions were correct, the other part is scared to believe.
Maybe Colt did back away because of his parents and his fears, but how can I ever know? It’s too late - I can never trust him again.
Letting myself inside the house after school, I collapse on the couch and allow myself a moment of self-indulgence, sifting through the memories of Colt and me when everything was special.
The way he held my face when he kissed me and looked into my eyes as he moved inside of me or how his eyes lit up when he spoke to me and our cuddle fest when I was getting over pneumonia.
All this surrounded by the ugly, he shoved down my throat. Because he was what? Scared? Is that good enough? Fuck, I don’t even know. Because I don’t know if I believe him.
*****
I still have no clue what to do about Sarah. I should’ve called the cops, but she didn't do anything other than freak me out. Besides, the students around here believe in solving their problems the old-fashioned way - I’d be back to public enemy number one if I snitched.
Despite her desperation, I don’t think she’s my fan. Just a sad, pathetic girl who can’t let go of reality.
Texting Teddy, I ask him what he thinks I should do, and he says rather pointedly I should avoid her at all costs and tell Colt.
But I’m still confused about Colt. What if this is a game? For all I know, he’s canoodling with her right now and laughing about my bitch move of running.
Gah.
Sick of my own thoughts, I roll over on the couch and stare at the ceiling. I miss
Colt. I miss how he used to sit with me and watch television. I miss how he would stroke my hair.
Sometimes I would look his way, and he’d be staring at me with a soft expression, and it’s those moments I clutched to my chest when he turned distant and cold.
*****
Colt’s unusually quiet the remainder of the week as though he regrets his passionate words, and I ignore the pulse of pain his reticence causes, wishing for once I could look past this broken boy, but I guess it’s not meant to be.
I haven’t received any new notes, but the specter hangs over my head, reminding me Colt’s better off keeping his distance.
Friday evening rolls around, and I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I almost forget about Hayden and his demand to attend a party with him.
With barely any time, I throw on some cute jeans and a low-cut top, touching up my makeup and tousling my hair.
I have no idea what this is about, and it’s more than likely a bad idea, but I’m curious, so I move ahead. Maggie had the doors and windows replaced with something top of the market that’s supposed to keep the harshest attackers at bay. It’s better than nothing but doesn’t cure the foreboding weighing heavily on my chest.
Halfheartedly, I wait by the door, pulling it open when he knocks on it shortly after I’ve assembled myself. And giving me an approving once over to which I roll my eyes, I follow him to the car and slide into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going anyway?”
“You’ll see,” he says with a smirk, pulling away with a squeal of tires that makes me sigh.
Hayden’s not much of a conversationalist, which is fine because I’m still brooding when we pull onto the freeway.
But after a while, I can’t contain my curiosity, and since Hayden can’t escape, I ask, “What’s the deal with that girl Portia?”
“Portia?” he says with bemusement. “Where did that come from?”
“A conversation with Nate,” I say impatiently.
“Of course,” he mutters, “stupid fuck.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing, he just never could stand being told no. It doesn’t surprise me he’s still sulking about her rejection all these years later.”
“And you’re not?”
“Fuck, no!”
“Then what about Sarah?” I ask suspiciously.
“What about her?”
“It seems a little too coincidental that you both have been fighting over the same girl, girls.”
He laughs, and I glower unamused.
“Portia was an adolescent fantasy. Sarah’s a freak in bed,” he says with a shrug.
“Really?”
“Yes, really, believe me, I don’t give two shits about who Theroux dates,” he says with a curl of his lip. “Why are you, jealous?”
Snorting, I turn to look around as we pull up to our destination. I didn’t sense a single undertone to Hayden’s words, which only means he’s not competing for the girl. But what about Colt?
And Nate? Shit.
A sea of cars surrounds us, parked in neat rows, before an abandoned warehouse that looms over us menacingly and provides the only light by which to see in the pitch-black lot.
Stepping from the car, I hear cheers emanating from inside and look at Hayden curiously. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
“You’ll see,” he says with another smirk, to which I flip him the bird when he passes, and he chuckles under his breath.
Scrambling after him with a few choice words, we walk through the maze of cars to a set of double doors closed tight with two burly dudes standing guard.
Hayden greets them with a manly chin nod and slaps some cash in their hands. With a similar chin nod, the other opens the door, and we slip inside.
The place is packed, people everywhere, all facing a ring in the center of the space, where two guys are going at it while the crowd roars.
Jesus, did he bring me to an underground fighting ring? Curiously, I gaze around.
Guys off to the side accept money as people place bets, shouting over the din. Against another wall is a makeshift bar, constructed of simple two by fours and a flat board, the line for drinks long.
People wander by with multicolored hair, faux hawks, mohawks, and enough tattoos to keep a place in business for years. Chicks in bathing suit tops and skinny jeans wander around in stilettos, hanging off of dudes with arms the size of my thighs.
The announcer blares something through the speaker, and the crowd goes wild, screaming and screeching loudly. Hayden leads me toward a corner where I spy Dirk hanging with a chick on his arm, George beside him, and Ramie wearing a cute tube top and painted on jeans.
I feel a little underdressed, but I was hardly in a partying mood when Hayden picked me up. I guess my outfit will have to do. Thankfully, I at least touched up my makeup, even though my hair is a wild halo around my face.
Dirk spies us, approaching, and his eyes grow wide before narrowing in thought, and because where Dirk is, Colt is usually not far behind, I look around nervously, searching for his brooding form in the crowd. I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or relieved when I don't spy him in the crush.
“This is a bad idea,” Dirk murmurs when we arrive, giving Hayden a grim look, “Do you know what the fuck you’re doing?”
“Moving things along,” Hayden says with an evil smirk.
I glance between them, sure I’m the topic of their conversation, but I’ve no clue why this is a bad idea and what the fuck Hayden is moving along.
“What’s going on?” I ask, stepping between them.
“You didn’t tell her?” Dirk asks incredulously.
“Tell me what?” I ask, but Dirk’s face just drops into a mulish expression, and Hayden grins evilly at me.
“What?” I demand, but neither give me the time of day, and I turn away, walking toward Ramie, who’s eyeing Hayden like a piece of candy.
She gives me a nod and turns her head away, but I spy the faint blush suffusing her pretty features.
“He’s a ho,” I mutter, stopping next to her and turning to face the ring.
Now that Ben has virtually disappeared, Ramie is presumably a free agent. It’s nice to see she’s no longer pining over him because he’s a dick, except I’m not sure Hayden is a step up, although so far, he doesn’t seem the type to hit a girl.
Then again, what do I know? I’m not exactly winning any awards in the dating department either.
Turning my attention away, I watch as two guys go at it, really pounding away at each other. I’m not sure I’m enjoying the sport as I wince in sympathy when the smaller of the two gets a sharp kick to the face, although I can say I admire the sheer beauty of the movement as his opponent takes him out.
“Holy shit,” I exclaim when he turns our way, and I spy his form full-on.
He’s ripped, like his muscles have muscles, and they gleam with sweat as he raises his arms over his shoulders with a grim expression. He’s got a sharp face, with dark hair, pretty dark eyes, and kissable plush lips, and I blush to the roots of my hair when he spots me in the crowd and gives me a wink.
Chuckling beside me, Ramie says, “Slow down there. You’ve already got Colt and Hayden hot after your ass. Do you have to take Diem too?”
“Diem?” I breathe, ignoring the ache in my chest when she mentions Colt.
Obviously, I don’t have Colt, he dumped me for Sarah, and despite his proclamation earlier, I’m starting to think the only reason he cares is because of Hayden and maybe Nate.
“Down girl, wipe the drool off your face before your man sees you lusting after this one,” she says, closing my jaw gently.
Turning to her, I say, mulishly, “My man?”
“Yes, Finn. Colt’s been your man since you showed up at that stupid school and threw him for a turn. He’s been obsessing about you ever since. Do you think he puts that much effort into anyone else? Shit, he can’t take his eyes off you when you’re around and acts like a wounded
fucking animal when you’re not.”
“All that effort? You mean orchestrating a whole host of bullying and stupid shit to run me out?” I ask incredulously, ignoring the warmth pulling in my chest.
“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, “I didn’t say he knows how to woo a woman, for fucks sake, just that he’s clearly obsessed. Frankly, I never thought I’d see the day,” she says in a bewildered tone.
“Then why all the fucking games?” I whisper, hurt taking the place of the giddy feeling from before.
She turns to me with a serious expression, her own face showing a lifetime of pain. “Sometimes, people don’t know how to love the right way, Finn, or even to be loved. You know?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I say softly. “Wait, did you say Colt’s here?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No! Where is he?” I ask wildly, glancing around.
If he’s with some stupid bitch I may lose my shit. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
“He’s right there,” she says, taking my shoulders and pointing me toward the stage.
I turn with complete horror and watch him turn around in a circle, with a lazy grin on his face but a grimness around his mouth and eyes I recognize from our spats.
“What’s he doing up there?” I ask, terror suffusing my system. Holy fuck.
“Getting revenge, man, I wish a guy would fight like that for me,” she mutters, but I tune her out, my confusion fading when I see his opponent take the stage behind him.
Fucking Buck, who tried to rape me in the back of his fucking SUV, which he bragged about his daddy buying for him. Colt’s dad. Shit, Colt’s going to fight his own half-brother? For me?
“Don't let him see you,” Dirk says in my ear.
Turning, I give him the evil eye, but he just shrugs, “He doesn't need the distraction and trust me, you’ve only ever been a distraction.”
“Didn’t he already beat the shit out of Buck?” I ask desperately, swinging back to watch them square off against each other.
“That was for sleeping with you. This is for trying to force you,” Dirk says calmly.
“What?! That doesn't make sense. He sent me in there for information and told me how to get it quite lewdly, I might add. Why would he care if I slept with him?”
