Torment

by Chloe Fischer

  She also knew she had to see the end of the game to report on it. Quickly, she wracked her brain to think of a solution to her immediate problem. She was sure that neither Vic nor Tempy had any LSU gear laying around and the game highlights wouldn’t be available for her to use before she could interview Darien. She had to stay, damp and uncomfortable, until the bitter end.

  The halftime show seemed to go on forever but not nearly as long as the next two quarters which Odette spent shivering in the stairwell. She hadn’t noticed the bite of cold in the air until after the beer incident but every moment that passed seemed to grow colder.

  Finally, blissfully, the game was over and MSU won, 46-29.

  Odette hurried toward the field, slipping her press pass around her neck as she moved. Her eyes darted through the throng of players, watching as the opposing teams high-fived in good sportsmanship but suddenly, Odette couldn’t see number 34 anymore.

  Confused, she looked around, recognizing Vernon as he removed his helmet.

  “Hey,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Where is Darien?”

  Vernon flashed her a quick smile and looked around, his brow furrowing.

  “He was just out here,” he replied, shaking his head. “He probably hit the showers already. Want me to get him?”

  “I can go,” Odette replied, grateful to have a reason to go inside. “And great game.”

  Vernon cast her a wide smile and wink.

  “You should come to games wearing the opposition’s garb all the time,” he teased. “Maybe that’s our good luck charm.”

  Odette knew he was joking but it was still too soon, especially when the stench of ale was burning her nostrils.

  She jogged into the locker room and into the middle of the chaos. The men were louder than she’d ever heard them, each voice overriding the next as they stripped off their clothes. If Odette had not been so miserable in her current situation, she would have basked in the testosterone for a few minutes, losing herself in the memory of the last time she’d been there, watching Darien’s towel slip lower and lower over his waist—

  “Odette!”

  She whipped her head up guiltily as Grayson approached her, a winning grin on his face.

  “Hey!” she said brightly. “Have you seen Darien anywhere? He’s supposed to give me an interview.”

  Grayson’s smile faltered slightly.

  “Oh…uh…”

  She cocked her head to the side.

  “What?”

  “He must have forgotten, Odette,” he told her apologetically. “He hightailed it out of here after the game. Didn’t even change.”

  A wave of disbelief flooded her as she gaped at Grayson.

  “Are you kidding me?” she barked, knowing how she must look and smell at that moment. Grayson shrugged sheepishly.

  “He does that sometimes,” he offered lamely. “Just takes off without a word to anyone.”

  Indignation flowed like lava through her body and she looked around helplessly.

  “I can give you an interview if you want,” Grayson suggested, but Odette barely heard him. She was far too busy wallowing in the fact that Darien had made an ass out of her not once, but twice in the same night.

  Chapter 6

  His body was aching when he returned to school on Sunday night but that was the least of his pain. Leaving Melody always twisted a knife in his gut and he wished he could stay longer and later. There were just never enough hours in the day.

  Darien’s eyes burned when he pulled the truck up to the house he shared with three other teammates. Barely able to keep his eyes open, he shuffled toward the door and noted with relief that it was unlocked. He wasn’t sure he had the dexterity to use a key after the drive from Chicago. He was surprised his legs carried him through the front door after midnight but like he had so many times before, he made his way inside and stumbled toward the stairs.

  “Dare!”

  Oh, Christ. Not now. Whatever it is.

  Reluctantly, he turned and looked at Grayson.

  “Hey.”

  “Where the hell were you all weekend? I tried texting and calling you.”

  Darien had been aware of that but he knew that whatever Gray wanted couldn’t have been that important.

  “I went home,” he reminded Grayson. “Like I do every weekend.”

  “You just took off after the game without a word to anyone,” Grayson accused him and Darien’s brow furrowed. He let out a short laugh.

  “What are you, my wife now?” he quipped. “What’s the problem?”

  “You stood up that reporter on Friday.”

  That, Darien had known. He had purposely run out of there, knowing that Odette was going to be waiting for him. It had given him a perverse sense of pleasure all the way back to Chicago.

  “So what?”

  Grayson looked at him strangely.

  “Well, she wasn’t happy,” he told Darien.

  “Look at my face,” he told Grayson. “I couldn’t give two shits if she’s happy or not.”

  “All right then,” Grayson said shortly. “I thought you’d forgotten. But if you were just trying to be an ass, then carry on.”

  “I’m beat. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Grayson bid him goodnight and somehow, Darien made it up the stairs, his body leaden. It had been a particularly trying weekend and he didn’t want to go back to school in the morning. But as always, when he flopped back onto his bed, his lids sealing, a dozen images filled his mind, ones that he couldn’t escape, no matter how hard he tried.

  Melody’s luminous eyes, Jayce’s quirky smile, Jade’s quivering lower lip. Like a montage, they passed through his mind, each one driving him into a deeper state of despair.

  That night, however, a new face joined the group.

  Odette’s.

  The mental picture of the reporter was enough to cause Darien’s eyes to reopen and he blinked in confusion at the unbidden image.

  You’re only thinking about her because Grayson brought her up, he thought but as he again struggled to sleep, it was only Odette’s face he saw before him. This time, he kept his eyes firmly shut, relishing the feeling of warmth that overcame his body as he stared at her face in his mind’s eye.

  Why did she have to be so damned gorgeous? It would be so much easier to despise her if she didn’t look like Salma Hayek in Fools Rush In. Or was it Dusk til Dawn?

  Whatever it was, it was smoldering, sexy, and impossible to ignore. He had thought about Odette a lot over the weekend, even if he had played dumb with Grayson.

  Great. Now your exhaustion is leading to brain damage. Go to sleep.

  It would still be another hour before his psyche allowed him to do just that.

  To his mild amusement, Odette was waiting for him outside his first class on Monday morning. He pretended not to see her as he deliberately brushed past her. As it had the time he had touched her arm, another bolt of energy seemed to surge between them when his arm slid across her breasts. It had been an inadvertent grope, but he didn’t apologize.

  “Seriously?” she snapped. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

  “Hm?” he asked innocently. “Oh…Bernadette, right?”

  Her scowl deepened.

  “I know that being dumb is probably your trademark but I don’t have time for this right now. What happened to you on Friday? You promised me an interview.”

  “Did I?”

  Her eyes flashed and Darien felt a tug in his pants as her face twisted in fury.

  “Fine,” she hissed. “If you don’t hold up your end of the deal, I won’t hold up mine.”

  “Huh. And I thought you already did,” he told her mockingly. Grayson had told him how Odette had appeared, beer saturated and dressed in the LSU swag when he’d seen her. Her face was a grotesque mask now and no longer remotely pretty. Even so, Darien found himself intensely aroused. For a moment, he thought she might see his hard-on but she wasn’t looking at his crotch. Her eyes were glue
d furiously to his face.

  “You think it’s funny that I could have gotten hurt?” she demanded. Her voice cracked slightly but it was frustration she was feeling, not fear.

  “Did you?” he asked, a smidgen of guilt passing through him. He thought of the warnings his teammates had given him.

  “Like I’d tell you if I had, and give you the satisfaction.”

  The flicker of guilt became a flame and Darien could see she was struggling to keep herself together.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “Nothing,” she shot back. “You’ve made your position clear, but know that I’ll be coming to every single practice until the end of the season.”

  Darien balked slightly, having forgotten that aspect of the deal.

  “I said I’d give you an interview,” he told her quickly. “I didn’t say when.”

  She scoffed loudly.

  “After the game. Of course, after the game! When else would it be? I need to publish an article about the game. Come on, Darien, seriously?”

  “I didn’t say. You just assumed.”

  “Oh, my God!” she was livid. “I know that life is all a big game to you, but this is my career. If you’re just wasting my time—”

  “Okay, okay!” he grumbled, holding up a hand to stop her diatribe. “I’ll give you your stupid interview, but I need to get to class.”

  “Whatever,” she hissed, turning away.

  “I will. Tonight. Meet me at Pokey Mahone’s at seven. I’ll buy you a beer and we can do the interview.”

  She paused and eyed him warily.

  “Seriously?” she demanded. He nodded.

  “Seven. Don’t be late.”

  He didn’t wait for her response and headed into the lecture hall, allowing the door to close in his wake.

  He wondered how long she’d wait before giving up.

  Guess I’m going to find out.

  Darien had almost forgotten about his promise to meet Odette that night until he was already home, shirtless and eating a t.v dinner in the living room. It was a rare night where he was home alone but for some reason, he felt uneasy, like he was forgetting something. He never went to Chicago on Mondays after spending the weekends there. It was the only day he had to regroup and he relished them.

  A quick glance at his phone told him that no one was looking for him but still, something was bothering him.

  When his eyes fell on the clock, he suddenly remembered where he was supposed to be.

  Odette is waiting for me at Pokey Mahone’s right now.

  He waited for the sense of smug satisfaction to sink it, the realization that he’d screwed her over twice now, but instead he was filled with nothing but shame. Perhaps it was the memory of her frustration or the words she’d said that morning.

  “This is my career…”

  He knew he’d be pissed if someone was playing games with his football career.

  It’s not the same thing. She should find another career. I’m doing her a favor by standing her up again.

  He thought of the articles Odette had written about his friends in the frat houses on Greek Row, the lies about their activities and how much she had sensationalized the activities in the area.

  It’s just like what happened with Jayce. Slander. And slander leads to horrific consequences.

  His cell chimed, causing him to jump in surprise. It was a text from Vernon.

  -At Pokey Mahone’s. Hot reporter is looking for you.

  He stared at it for a long moment, deciding what to do. If he stood her up this time, he’d never get rid of her in the locker room but was that really what was driving him upstairs, leaving his meal half-eaten to put on a pair of jeans and one of his nicer shirts?

  Just throw her a bone and she’ll be out of your way.

  He knew exactly the kind of bone he wanted to throw her too.

  Darien entered the Irish-styled pub and stood in the entranceway, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Obnoxious hard rock blared from the speakers which could only mean that Basil was working the bar. His instinct was to turn around and leave but the smell of food in the air reminded him that he was still hungry. He needed to adhere to a strict diet of two thousand calories a day and he was sure he hadn’t even hit half of that already.

  A burger and a beer will do it, he thought, his eyes focusing on the center of the moderately crowded space. It was a Monday night, after all, and everyone was mostly recovering from whatever shenanigans their weekend brought.

  At first, he didn’t see her and he wondered if he was too late, if she’d figured out that he wasn’t coming and simply went on her way.

  But then, in the far corner, near the small stage, he saw Odette, head bowed into a Mac book.

  I bet her daddy bought that for her, he thought, his initial contempt resurfacing. As if she felt him, her head swiveled up and she met his eyes clear across the room, a now-familiar electricity pulsating between them.

  It’s not electricity—it’s disdain. We don’t like each other.

  Inhaling, he wove through the maze of circular tables and flopped unceremoniously onto the seat in front of her. Without a word of greeting, he waved toward one of the nearby servers.

  “Hey, handsome,” Jilly purred as she ambled toward him. “Haven’t seen you out too much.”

  Ignoring Odette all together, Darien focused his full attention on Jilly, winking coyly.

  “If I knew what days you were working, I’d be here every shift,” he replied slyly.

  “I’ll have to text you my schedule in that case,” Jilly giggled. “But first you’ll have to give me your number.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  Odette cleared her throat loudly and Jilly’s smile faded, a look of embarrassment crossing over her face.

  “Oh…” she stuttered. “I-is s-she your…”

  She trailed off and Darien laughed as if the idea was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

  “Oh God no!” he snickered, waving his hand dismissively.

  “I’m not his girlfriend but I am the woman who has been waiting over an hour for you,” Odette interjected, her voice icy.

  “Jilly, will you give us a minute? I need to decide what to eat.”

  “Sure,” Jilly agreed, seeming eager to escape the tension she could suddenly feel mounting.

  “I had no idea you could be charming,” Odette said bitterly. Darien swallowed a smile.

  “I didn’t know that my charms had anything to do with my game,” he shot back. Odette’s eyes narrowed and she sat back, folding her arms over her chest.

  “I wasn’t sure you were coming,” she told him flatly. “I was getting ready to leave.”

  “Don’t let me stop you.”

  She stared at him, unspeaking for a moment.

  “W-what did I do to you?” she demanded. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you and you’re being such an ass.”

  Darien snorted.

  “And yet you keep demanding my attention.”

  She pursed her lips together, shaking her head.

  “Are you purposely being dense or have you been hit in the head too many times already? I told you, it’s for the paper. I’m not trying to date you.”

  “You couldn’t handle a date with me, sweetie,” he cooed. A small, humorless smile formed on her lips.

  “I wouldn’t want a date with you,” she shot back. “I don’t even want an interview with you but I have no choice.”

  Darien leaned forward, his eyes hazy with interest.

  “Tell me,” he purred. “Why did you opt out of current affairs? Was it because you got caught spreading so many lies that you got booted off the main hype?”

  Odette blinked.

  “Lies? What makes you think they were lies?”

  “I know some of the men you accused of contributing to the delinquencies of minors and looking the other way when assaults happened. Those guys would never do any of
the shit you claimed.”

  Her jaw twitched.

  “You know, Darien, sometimes you don’t see the same version of someone that other people see. You add alcohol and mob mentality into the mix and there’s a recipe for disaster.”

  “You weren’t there. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  “Were you there?” she asked and he could see she was genuinely asking. He gritted his teeth together.

  “I wasn’t there but I know what happens when you smear someone’s good name. You have caused those guys on Greek Row a world of trouble on the word of who? Who were your sources?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “The fact that you’re not reporting actual news anymore tells me everything I need to know,” Darien shot back. A heavy silence fell between them and Odette shook her head.

  “This was a mistake,” she muttered, reaching for her laptop. “I-I changed my mind. I don’t want the interview.”

  “That doesn’t change anything on my end, Odette. You can’t keep showing up at the field.”

  She visibly swallowed and for a heart-wrenching moment, he thought he saw tears glisten in her eyes.

  Oh, come on. Don’t fucking cry now.

  “I won’t,” she said stiffly. “In fact, I—”

  “Hey, bitch!”

  The shrill voice caused Darien to turn as a bottled blonde hurried toward them, a pitcher of beer sloshing over her hands. In slow motion, Darien saw what the blonde intended to do, her hands tipping the liquid toward Odette’s computer.

  Before he could stop himself, Darien rose to his full height, putting himself between Odette and the blonde and catching the pitcher with his barrel chest.

  “MOVE!” the blonde screamed, her face red and furious. “God dammit!”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Darien growled. “Are you insane?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Odette hurrying to collect her belongings as Darien towered over the incensed blonde.

  “She wrote an article about me!” the screaming girl howled. “It was slander and I’m suing you!”

  Darien looked toward Odette, but the brunette was already halfway to the door.