by JM Bray
Who would have thought it. Maybe she’ll like this way of life better. Can people really change though? He tried to envision Flea as quiet and subdued and the image wouldn’t come. Would he change when Coleman arrives? Would he become less like himself, or would it be better? His stomach clenched. What if he became something he didn’t like...or worse?
‘Uhh — ’ He jerked as someone patted his arm.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.’ Emily blinked behind her glasses.
‘No, it’s...I was just thinking.’
‘About what?’ She started to walk across a wide grassy area dotted with trees. The tops of them disappeared into the fluffy grey blanket. Students mainly used this area to play Capture the Flag or Frisbee, but not much else. Vincent wondered why. Even in the inclement weather the place was beautiful, even peaceful.
A hand took his and he looked over. ‘You really are distracted.’ Emily smiled. ‘You know, you can talk to me, about anything.’
‘Thank you, Emily. That means a lot.’ He squeezed her hand for emphasis and started to pull it away, but she held on.
‘Vincent, I’m here for you.’ She stepped closer, looking up at him. ‘In any way you want me to be...’ Before he knew what was happening, her lips headed towards his. At the last moment, he pulled his head back and turned his face. Emily’s kiss landed on the edges of his upper lip and nose.
He gently held her off him. ‘Emily...no...I...’
She yanked her hand from his and stepped back, her mouth a tight line. ‘Fine. I see how it is.’ Turning, she stomped back toward the store.
‘Emily, wait.’
‘No, Vincent.’ She glared back while still walking and pointed at him. ‘Stay away.’
He let his hands fall and sighed. Nice job, Casanova.
The Movies
Vincent and Flea sat in a corner of the Stacks, the library’s bottom floor housing the lesser-used volumes. It was the place to research obscure information, discuss projects, and make out. He didn’t tell Flea about the embarrassing fiasco with Emily. Maybe I can pretend it didn’t happen.
‘Hey, spaceman.’ Flea tapped his shoulder.
‘Huh?’
‘That’s it, we’re outta here.’ Flea stood. ‘You need a distraction.’
He looked up at his friend. ‘Yeah, I think you’re right. What are you thinking?’
Flea gave a lopsided smile. ‘You get three guesses, and the first two don’t count.’
‘Dollar movie night.’
‘Let’s do it.’
Two theaters on Sports Arena Boulevard hosted the nights twice a week and packed the house with college students and local military. As they left the building, Julie and Knife ambled up.
‘Weren’t you guys headed to the Stacks?’ Knife asked.
‘Change of plans.’ Flea frowned. ‘Gotta run a rescue mission.’ He pointed at Vincent. ‘This man needs to get his mind off Friday. He’s useless as is and needs a dose of dollar movie. Are you with us?’
Julie and Knife nodded. ‘You’re right. The circumstances are critical.’ Knife said.
Julie felt Vincent’s forehead and chest. ‘His vitals are low; there’s no time to waste.’
Grabbing his arms, they ran toward the parking lot. She grinned up at him as they jogged. ‘Your car is up here, right?’
He pointed to the little white hatchback. ‘There she is.’
Flea and Knife refused to sit in the front, claiming it was ‘her seat.’ Watching them contort themselves into the back was a good pre-movie show. Like most college students, they were just happy to have a ride. When they arrived, Vincent circled around the back of the complex. The dark area usually had spots open because people didn’t like leaving their cars there. The first time he did it, Flea asked, ‘Aren’t you afraid your car will get stolen?’
‘What’s there to steal? They’d probably bring it back after a block or two.’ At over three hundred thousand miles, it had seen better days, but still purred right along.
Tonight, places to park were farther out than normal. They walked toward the breezeway of the building a couple hundred feet away. A few lampposts dotted the lot but with the fog they were only identifiable as soft glowing points of light. Knife and Flea went ahead to provide a little privacy. Stray litter and scattered bottles dotted the way.
‘Watch your step, Julie.’ Vincent offered his hand, and she took it.
Near the building Vincent patted his pockets. ‘Dang it, I left my wallet in the car. Go catch the guys and I’ll run back to get it.’
‘Silly man.’ She kissed his cheek then called out, ‘Hey, wait up.’
After retrieving it he jogged toward the dim outline of the waiting group. He passed a line of vehicles along the back of the building and from the shadows a harsh voice growled, ‘Worthless whore. That’ll cost ya.’
A female voice gasped, ‘No — ’
Vincent heard the unmistakable sound of someone being slapped. Hard. What the heck? He rounded the front of a van and saw the outline of a large man straddling a woman, appearing to strangle her. One of her shoes flipped into the air as her legs flailed against the ground. He grabbed the attacker’s hair to drag him back and a stocking cap came off in his hand. Vincent looked at the cap and the guy pushed up, swinging a ham-sized fist at his head. He jerked back, trying to roll with the punch.
As the hard knuckles skidded across his cheekbone, his head snapped around and stars blossomed in Vincent’s vision. He turned with the blow, moving around the side of the van, shaking his head, hoping to get his wits back. Stumbling from between the vehicles, he turned to face the shadows. The man looked back toward the ground. ‘I’ll be back for you shortly, woman.’
Vincent’s head cleared and he saw the gang rushing back. ‘Stop,’ he yelled, then turned his side toward his attacker.
A voice came from the shadows. ‘I’m gonna rip off your head and piss down your neck.’ A mountain of muscle and rage hurtled at him like a pro linebacker. Vincent dove to the left at the last moment then rolled to his feet as the man sailed past.
The attacker spun around and yelled inarticulately, charging, his stance wide. He slowed and dipped to his left, throwing a right cross. As Vincent slipped it, the man drove in, snaring him in a tight embrace, lifting him off his feet, their faces inches apart.
‘I gotcha now.’ His stale breath was an assault in itself. He squeezed and Vincent’s ribs compressed.
‘No!’ Julie screamed.
Vincent clamped his teeth down on the man’s cheek. He tasted blood and bit harder as the brute yelled. Pain forced the man to drop him and Vincent backed away. He bent over, holding his face, so Vincent darted in slamming a palm against his ear before retreating.
The man howled, covering his ear as well. He brought his bloody hands away from his head, clamping them into fists, as he grunted rhythmically. A flap of flesh dangled on his cheek, dark blood streaming from it. Another line of blood coursed from his ear. The fog swirled around them disorienting Vincent — as if a pocket of reality detached itself from the world. He shook his head and blinked as the man convulsed violently. Blind with rage, he barreled at Vincent like a bull goring a matador.
Vincent leaped at him, driving his knee up at the oncoming man like a battering ram. The flying knee strike connected with the point of the attacker’s chin as his head came down. There was a meaty crack as the man’s jawbone snapped. The impact pivoted Vincent in a half circle, flipping his legs into the air and he landed hard on his left shoulder. He staggered to his feet, but the attacker lay in a heap. Vincent could hear his ragged breathing gurgling around his destroyed jaw.
He flopped to the asphalt and put his head in his hands as his friends rushed to his side. ‘Vincent, are you okay?’ Julie asked.
‘Let me check you,’ Knife said.
Vincent waved a hand and looked up. ‘Give me a minute.’
‘I’ll go call 911,’ Flea said and took off like an Olympian.
Knife g
lanced at the mountainous form nearby. ‘It doesn’t look like this guy’s going anywhere soon. How’d this happen?’
‘By the van...a woman,’ Vincent said.
Julie looked up. ‘Knife, men might not be her favorite thing right now, I’ll go with you.’
‘Good point,’ he said.
Julie put an arm around Vincent’s shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah...but that’s nothing like sparring...I thought he was going to kill me,’ Vincent said.
‘Do you want me to stay here?’
He took a deep breath. ‘No. I need a second anyway.’ He felt like he might throw up and really didn’t want Julie around for it.
‘Okay, sweetie.’
He put his head between his knees, taking deep breaths and got tried to get hold of his rebellious stomach. A few minutes later, Knife and Julie emerged from the darkness. The woman wept softly, leaning on Knife’s shoulder. They stopped near the back of the van.
‘She’s kind of shaken, but who wouldn’t be?’ Julie said as she walked over. ‘She latched onto Knife and won’t let go.’
Vincent stood carefully; everything felt like it was working right. ‘Looks like he’s handling it.’
Julie held him tightly. ‘I was so scared, Vincent.’
‘I’m — ’ A police car rolled out of the fog, lights ablaze. It stopped nearby.
Flea climbed out of the back seat and ran over, followed closely by the officers. ‘They pulled into the parking lot right when I came through the breezeway.’
‘Everyone okay here?’ one of the officers asked.
‘Yeah, we’re all fine,’ Julie said.
Vincent pointed. ‘He might need a new jaw.’
‘Vincent. Your cheek!’ Julie said.
He probed the swollen mass gently. ‘I think it’s okay, but I’ll have a shiner.’ He winced as the adrenaline rush departed.
The police took their statements, and the young woman left in an ambulance, though not before she exchanged phone numbers with Knife.
‘The only time I’ve seen a jaw broken that bad was in a head-on collision where the driver ate the steering wheel,’ the EMT said before carting off the assailant.
They sat in a booth at a nearby Denny’s. They hadn’t been able to talk since everything happened, and as Flea started to, the waitress walked up.
‘Hi, folks, what can I get you tonight?’ She smiled pleasantly, ignoring Vincent’s swollen, deep red cheek.
Julie opened her mouth a few times, but didn’t answer.
‘She’ll have the hot fudge brownie á la mode, and I’ll have a burger with onion rings and chocolate malt, please,’ Vincent said.
‘Just a Coke for me,’ Knife said.
‘Vanilla shake,’ Flea added.
‘Can I get some ice, too, please?’ Vincent looked up at her.
‘Sure. I’ll have that right out.’ She nodded, her brows drawn.
They sat silently. Talk about a night out.
‘That brownie thing has, like, a million calories,’ Julie said.
‘It’s okay,’ Vincent said, ‘sugar helps counteract adrenaline drop-off.’
‘You know this how?’ Flea asked.
The waitress brought him a white cotton cloth loaded with ice. ‘We crushed it for you; if you need more, just call.’ She patted his arm and left.
‘She is so getting a huge tip,’ Vincent said, as he carefully put the ice pack on his face. He sighed. ‘Sweets always worked after a tournament, Flea.’
‘I was...’ A tear ran down Julie’s cheek. ‘That...’
His heart melted seeing her like this, Vincent put his arm around her and she leaned against him. They sat that way until the food came, then ate slowly.
‘So,’ Knife eventually said, ‘that went...well.’
‘I got lucky.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’ Fear tinted Julie’s voice. ‘He was huge.’
Vincent shook his head. ‘Once everything started, I responded as best as I could. Thanks for stopping when I asked.’
‘Commanded is more like it,’ Flea said.
Vincent smiled and regretted it as his cheek protested. He winced. ‘Well, thanks for listening. I didn’t want you getting hurt.’
‘Happy to help.’ Knife smiled wolfishly.
‘I’m up for the not getting hurt, anytime, just let me know, and I’m there for you,’ Flea added, bringing chuckles all around.
‘Oww... Oh...no laughing,’ Vincent said.
‘So what’s with the big pile of food?’ Knife asked him.
‘It’s a reward.’ He sighed.
‘If that’s the case, you deserve the whole menu, bud,’ Flea said.
‘By the way,’ Knife said, ‘that was about the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.’
‘Me, too,’ Julie said. ‘But it was nothing like the movies.’
Vincent smiled. ‘Yeah, it wasn’t very pretty. Especially when he squeezed me like a lemon.’
‘But then you just...well...ate his face.’ Julie tittered. ‘I never expected that.’
‘I bet he never expected it, either,’ Flea said.
‘Yeah, pretty sure none of us did,’ Knife shook his head.
Vincent sighed. ‘You wanted to see my martial arts; I just never figured it would be like this.’
Chapter 21
Dinner with the Gang
They walked to an empty table, plates of Sloppy Joes in hand. Vincent pulled Julie’s chair out. She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘Because you can peek down her top,’ Flea said.
She shrugged. ‘Hey, injured fighters get extra perks.’
‘Then this shiner was worth it.’ Vincent grinned.
‘Somebody, punch me, please,’ Flea said, prompting snickers from the group.
As the laughter settled, Vincent stared at his plate.
‘The food too much for you, big guy?’ Flea asked
‘No, this is actually good. It’s just...what’s happening tonight.’
They fell silent. ‘I know. I feel the same way, bud,’ Flea said. ‘I just cover it with banter. Defense mechanism.’
Julie put her hand on his. ‘We’ll be with you.’
‘All the way,’ Knife added.
Vincent smiled. ‘So, let’s eat and drink, for tomorrow we — ’
‘Hey, now,’ Julie said. ‘If you’re gonna get all scriptural, pick something upbeat.’
‘Sorry, black humor.’
Vincent glanced around the caf. In the last four days, Emily had adopted an overly cloying attitude with him — having the truth revealed might have been easier to take. ‘So, anyone seen E.T., Emily, and Mike?’ Vincent asked.
‘They went out tonight,’ Julie said.
‘All three of them?’ Knife asked
‘Yep.’ She nodded. ‘Rolled tacos and movies. Emily is finding that being nice has its benefits.’
They ate quietly for a few moments then Knife cleared his throat. ‘Do you suppose the fight was connected with everything else?’ He looked around the table. ‘I mean, who knows what’s coming?’
Vincent nodded. ‘Yeah, I haven’t said anything, but that’s another reason I’ve been so preoccupied.’
Flea set his fork down deliberately then folded his hands. He spoke quietly, his voice intense; ‘Enough evil exists in this world for us to connect the dots if we try. Sure, it could happen, but we can’t focus on that. If we do we might as well lie down and let them win.’
Julie nodded thoughtfully. ‘You’re right. Even if that creep was part of it — how’d that work out?’
‘Pretty painfully,’ Knife said.
‘He’ll be eating through a straw,’ Flea said before taking a drink.
‘Sucks to be him,’ Julie said.
Flea snorted and grabbed his napkin, bringing it to his mouth. ‘In the middle of a drink?’
Julie smiled. ‘If you’re going to lob softballs like that...’
Flea
shook his head. ‘Beaten at my own game.’
Vincent nodded. He had to be on the offensive. ‘I’m lucky to have people like you around.’
‘Darn right you are,’ Flea said. ‘Especially me.’
‘Nah,’ Knife said. ‘I’m the key factor — pre-med, ya know.’
Julie looked at them each, slowly licked her lips, and lowered her chin. ‘You think so?’
The guys froze.
‘I think she’s got us there.’ Flea rubbed the back of his neck.
‘Can’t argue with that.’ Knife shook his head.
‘Toss in the cleavage, and we’re cooked,’ Flea said.
Vincent grinned and said, ‘You just feel free to unleash that look anytime you want.’
They all laughed then ate quietly once again.
Knife put up his hands. ‘Gang, I’m sorry to sound like the naysayer tonight, but Vincent, are you sure you want to do this thing? I know everything felt right last week, but what if Coleman, or any of them, aren’t what they claim?’
Vincent started to answer, stopping with his mouth open. It didn’t sound right, or feel that way, but…
Julie dropped her voice and leaned forward. ‘After everything we saw and Vincent heard — how can you even think that?’
‘He has a point,’ Flea said.
‘You too?’ Her eyebrows shot up and she sat back, crossing her arms. An uncomfortable silence enveloped the table.
‘If...’ Vincent sighed and started over. ‘I know what you’re saying. We have to at least consider both sides — I’ve been doing that for the last week. But if I don’t go through with it, and something happens...’ He shook his head. ‘I couldn’t live with myself. Could you? Either of you?’ He pointed his fork and Flea and Knife.
Knife raised his hands. ‘I’m not backing out on you.’ He looked at Julie. ‘But I had to ask.’
She uncrossed her arms and blew out a long breath. ‘This thing has me all in knots.’
Flea smiled and sniffed. ‘Glad to see I’m not the only one.’
‘So, when should we head to the room?’ Julie asked.
Vincent shrugged. ‘How about after we finish? I mean, who knows what time is, their time...there.’
‘Well put, Vincent.’ Flea raised an elastic eyebrow. ‘Look out, Shakespeare.’
