Finding Honor

by Ripley Proserpina

  Something about what he said stayed with her.

  Them. He said them. Maybe he meant since they were roommates, they had to discuss dating a girl who lived with them, however briefly she may stay. Another part of her wondered if he knew she had feelings for them, if there was a deeper meaning to what he said than she first interpreted.

  “We need to get cleaned up,” he whispered.

  She nodded, lifting her chin so she could kiss beneath his jaw. He tasted like soap and salt. She was tempted to continue kissing him, but she didn’t want to push him too far.

  “You should get some of your things back soon,” he remarked, sitting and reaching for a box of tissues. He gently wiped his release from her stomach and hand before balling the tissue and tossing it into the garbage. “You must be running out of sweatpants.”

  “Do you think so?” she asked, taking the box of tissues and swiping a spot he missed on the comforter.

  Reaching out, his fingers grasped the edge of Nora’s bra. He lowered it, covering her and then straightened her t-shirt. She fixed her pants, pulling them up and tightening the laces. Ryan crawled over her so he could stand, hiking his shorts into place. He was still half-erect, and she couldn’t help biting her lip, wishing she’d gotten a chance to take him in her mouth. Catching the direction of her stare, his face changed, cheekbones standing out as he tensed and lunged for her. Again and again he kissed her, bruising, punishing kisses that eased the ache she felt.

  Ryan pushed back from her, breathing heavily. His hands were still tangled in her hair and he slowly removed them, lowering them onto her shoulders. Her hand lifted to her mouth, as if she could keep the feel of his kisses there. She yawned hugely, and he smiled.

  “My tired girl,” he whispered, causing a bolt of happiness to shoot through her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

  He stood, holding out his hands to her. She gripped them, letting him pull her to standing. She followed behind him, her fingertips curled around his until they got to her room. There, he dropped her hand. “We’ll work this out,” he said again, more firmly this time.

  His resolve was so strong she couldn't help believing him.

  “Goodnight,” he said, and dipped his head, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead while backing her into her room. His body crowded hers, pressing against hers in less innocent ways. He held her hips with both hands and gave her one more kiss on the nose before backing away, smiling, and closing the door,

  He left her out of sorts. Loose-limbed, she walked to the bed and fell onto it. Her body was exhausted, but her mind went a hundred miles an hour. She closed her eyes, putting her hand on her mouth to remember the feel of Ryan’s kisses. Holding the back of her hand to her nose, she could smell him against her skin. She breathed deep, taking in the scent and holding it inside her. She wished she could have held him longer.

  How had she gone so long without physical affection? It wasn't until these guys she felt the absence of touch in her life. Now, her arms ached to hold someone close.

  Apollo seemed to need the most contact. She thought about the way he’d scooped her out of the car, dwarfing her with his size. He made her feel safe and precious. Where Ryan had an absolute trust in her, Apollo seemed to take joy in her. He was happy when she was around, and his happiness rebounded onto her. He made her smile, lighting her up inside. She noticed he seemed to spread that joy everywhere. When she had gone out to breakfast with him; everyone knew him. Everyone was happy to see him.

  It made her feel special, because for some reason, he chose to shine his optimism on her.

  Matisse was a spark waiting to ignite. He was a wildcard. She’d expected him to be quiet and intense, and he was, but he was also goofy and sweet. He’d stepped between her and her memories when the reporter had cornered her. He hadn’t let her wallow. He’d dragged her out of her head, and kept her present.

  Then there were Seok and Cai. She grabbed her pillow and shoved it over her face, screaming into it. There was something there, something with all of them. If she thought Matisse was intense, and Ryan was hard to read, then Seok and Cai were enigmas wrapped in mysteries. She had no idea which way was up with Seok. He insulted and irritated her, and then soothed and protected her.

  Cai made her feel like she was on the cusp of something. He was so restrained, but at the same time, he had this charisma, this golden draw. When he’d looked at her with disappointment earlier, it made her want to curl into a ball. She couldn't tell him what was wrong, but she wanted to. God, she found herself wanting to do whatever he asked. He couldn’t hate her too much, after all, he had a file containing her darkest moments, and still took her to meet the most vulnerable of kids, trusting her with them.

  What the hell was she doing? Because on top of all of this was the very real guilt she felt for surviving a massacre perpetrated by her foster brother, someone she loved. Oh yeah, and she was shot. And she had no job. And she lost her apartment. And she had no money.

  Nora pulled the pillow off her face and stuffed it under her head. What does it say about me, that despite these things, the boys consume my thoughts?

  Twenty-One

  Honesty

  Ryan went downstairs in a haze. He felt Nora under his fingers, on his skin. He could almost smell her on his clothes. Matisse and Apollo were in the kitchen; one speaking on the phone, the other tapping idly at his phone.

  He filled a glass with water and sat next to Matisse. He listened in on Apollo’s conversation as he went about making plans for an upcoming fight.

  His face was serious, like it always was when discussing the details of a fight: location, opponent, money. Apollo was a shrewd businessman when he needed to be. Ryan wondered if he’d confided in Nora about how he paid for school, and he wondered what her reaction was.

  He suspected her concern for Apollo would overshadow anything else. She wouldn’t care about the money, or his notoriety. She would worry. The question would be whether she’d be so worried she’d ask Apollo not to fight, and whether he would agree.

  Apollo hung up the phone and sighed. He opened the fridge and grabbed a Gatorade, opening it and drinking deeply. He looked out into the night, not meeting Matisse’s or Ryan’s eyes, even though Ryan was sure he felt them watching.

  “5K and 25% of the take.”

  Matisse raised his eyebrows and whistled.

  “If I win, they have another opponent lined up, and they’re offering 15K for that fight.”

  “Jesus, Apollo.” He shook his head. “Are you sure?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve heard of the first guy. I can win it. But they won’t tell me the second opponent.”

  “Who was it?” Matisse dragged his laptop forward and opened it. Apollo told him the name, and he began searching.

  “If I agree to the first, I can’t back out of the second.”

  Warning bells went off in Ryan’s head. “Sounds sketchy.”

  He nodded, but then shrugged. “15K— and they promised a higher percentage on the take. Still, with 15K I’d be debt free this year. I’d come out of here with zero student loans, and I could add a huge chunk to the mortgage.”

  “Don’t do it for us,” Ryan argued and Matisse agreed.

  “And there’s Nora.” He threw the Gatorade bottle into recycling. “What if something happens with her? I’d have the cash to help.”

  “Have you told her about fighting?” he asked.

  Apollo shook his head. “No, but I want to. I don’t want to keep any secrets from her.” He turned to face Ryan. “I sound like a chick, don’t I?”

  He smiled, but it felt tight. Now was the time, the perfect opportunity to tell him how he felt, what he wanted.

  But it was Matisse who spoke first. “I like her, Apollo.”

  Apollo blinked, and smiled. “Yeah, she’s cool.”

  Ryan heard what Apollo didn’t. Yes, Matisse thought she was cool, but he was falling for her. Shit.

  “No.” Matisse took a deep breath and stood.


  An edge of nervous energy came off of Matisse. Both his friends were tall and strong, and while Apollo outweighed him by at least fifty pounds of bulky muscle, Matisse had scrappiness on his side. He was leaner than Apollo, yes, but he could throw-down with the best of them, and he wouldn’t fight fair. No one was going to come out a winner if this turned ugly.

  “No, you don’t think she’s cool?” Apollo looked confused, but Ryan knew it was because he was finally starting to understand what their friend meant.

  This was Apollo in denial. He didn’t want to hear what it was Matisse implied.

  “I want to take her out, Apollo.” Matisse’s words rushed and tripped over each other. “I want to date her.”

  Apollo pulled out a chair and sat. He took off his glasses, flinging them onto the table and scrubbing his face with his hands. He shook his head. “I’m not stepping aside, Matisse. I’m sorry. If it doesn’t work out between us, we’ll talk then, but no.” He met Matisse’s gaze. “You can’t have her, man. I’m sorry.”

  A strange excitement lit Matisse’s eyes. Ryan expected him to argue. He waited, his stomach in knots, trying to anticipate what he’d say.

  “I know,” Matisse spoke quickly. As often happened when he got excited, his accent became thicker and Ryan listened harder to understand him. “I know, but listen. You can still date her. I want her, too. You’re my best friend, and I’m fine if you continue to see her. Hell, make out with her. Better she does it with my friend than someone I don’t know.”

  Apollo stilled. His hand, which had been rubbing furiously at his short hair, stopped. He slowly lowered it to the table. Troubled, Ryan saw him clench his hand into a fist.

  “Let’s talk about this later,” he interjected quickly. “That’s enough for tonight.”

  “No.” Apollo held up a hand. “No, I want to hear this. I want to hear how Matisse thinks both of us dating Nora would work.”

  Matisse didn’t hear the danger in Apollo’s tone, but Ryan sure as shit did.

  “Matisse,” he directed. “Leave it.”

  “No, c’est bon.” Matisse smiled. Ryan winced, apparently Matisse’s excitement was shutting off the genius parts of his brain. “We all live here together, and we see where it goes. One day she’s with you, one day she’s with me. It’s fine.”

  “And if I want to kiss her?”

  Danger, danger, danger.

  Matisse shrugged. “Then you kiss her. We both kiss her, whatever. Our relationship progresses as it progresses—it goes as far as we want it to.”

  Apollo made a fist and slammed it on the table, rattling the glasses in the cupboards. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, before opening them and standing quickly. Shit. Matisse finally seemed to have sensed Apollo’s mood because he stood as well.

  “I’m not stepping aside either, Apollo.” His voice turned low and serious.

  Now Apollo stood. “She’s not a whore. She’s not dating both of us.”

  Ryan froze. A picture suddenly appeared in his mind, one he found himself drawn to. Nora, dating him, and dating Apollo, and Matisse. It didn’t bother him. If he had to pick a team, he’d pick Matisse’s, because the idea of having Nora was enough. He honestly didn’t care if he had to share her, especially not with his best friends. He knew Apollo had kissed her, he could see it in the way he held Nora, the affection with which he treated her. But it didn’t bother him, and instead of jealousy, he only felt desire.

  He wanted to kiss her. He did kiss her. Watching Nora come apart under his hands was amazing, and he wanted to repeat it. Of course his friends would want the same. They’d be fools not to.

  “We need to ask her, it’s up to her,” Matisse reasoned.

  “You’re not asking her!” Apollo sounded shocked. “She would never— She’s not some kind of slut!” His voice rose louder and louder, and he stepped into Matisse’s space until they were toe-to-toe.

  Matisse’s voice was quiet. “I know that. How dare you even fucking think it? If she wants to kiss me, she can kiss me. It doesn’t make her a whore to kiss us both.”

  Apollo stilled. He heard, just as Ryan had, what it was Matisse wasn’t saying. He’d kissed her.

  Quickly, he jumped forward, and even though he knew what was coming, he wasn’t fast enough. Apollo launched himself at Matisse and they both flew backwards, landing onto Seok’s table. With a huge crash, it collapsed under their combined weight. The noise reverberated through the house, knocking items off shelves to the floor.

  Ryan yelled, trying to get a hold of Matisse to pull them apart, but they were wild. In a fight, Apollo was systematic, he found weaknesses and exploited them.

  Not here. Now, his only goal was to pummel.

  The same was true for Matisse. In any other fight, he searched for opportunities, ways to sneak in a punch. He wasn’t above bringing a gun to a knife fight, but he too, was fighting recklessly. It seemed neither of them wanted to win, they only wanted to hurt each other.

  Apollo’s foot caught Ryan in the knee, and he fell backwards, tripping over a chair and beaning himself off the counter. He swore and stood, shaking his head to clear it. He heard thundering and then Cai and Seok were there, each of them diving into the fray. Ryan dove after them, catching someone’s elbow on his chin and getting punched hard enough his teeth slammed together and black spots appeared in his vision.

  He threw himself backwards, and heard a small oof when he hit something small. He turned quickly, wrapping his arms around Nora so he bore the brunt of the force when they fell backwards.

  Her hands traveled along his face. “Oh my god, oh my god, what happened? What’s going on?” Her voice was high, but not louder than the grunts and yells of his friends. Somehow, though, it managed to carry over all of their voices and shut them all up.

  Ryan rubbed his eyes, trying to focus. One by one, he saw the bruised and swollen faces of his friends turn toward him and Nora. Apollo scrambled across the broken wood.

  “Are you okay? Shit, baby. I’m so sorry.”

  He looked at Nora, and saw she wasn’t completely unscathed. There was a growing purple bruise on her temple.

  “Are you happy now?” A low, furious voice traveled across the kitchen. As one, they all turned to Seok. His body trembled with anger. “Are you?” he asked again.

  Ryan stood. “Hold on, Seok.” But he could see Seok was on a mission, and he was not going to stop for anything.

  Twenty-two

  Seok

  Nora’s whole world seemed to shrink until there was only her and Seok, and the hate shooting like lasers from his eyes to hers.

  “What?” she whispered. She tried to stand, but tripped on a chair. A hand at her elbow held onto her even after she was firmly on her feet. Ryan. She squeezed his hand in thanks, but then stepped away, meeting Seok’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  He kicked one of the broken boards. It slammed into a cabinet, gouging the wood and making her jump.

  “This,” he sneered at her.

  Gone was the Seok from earlier this morning. This was the man who was thoroughly disgusted with her. He waved at the destruction and his friends.

  Cai sat against the wall, his arms wrapped around Matisse’s chest. Both of them were breathing heavily. Cai’s lip was split and puffy. Matisse’s eye was swollen shut and he had a gash across the top of his nose. Apollo remained on his knees, his hands bleeding over the floor, and a cut from his scalp dripping onto the neck of his t-shirt.

  “This is because of you.” He looked her over, his eyes traveling from her head to her toes, like he couldn’t see what the fuss was about. “Well done.”

  She took another step toward him, away from Ryan. “Fuck you,” she said between clenched teeth. “I didn’t do this.”

  Seok crossed his arms, the smile disappearing from his face. “No? They’re fighting over you. Because you were fucking with both of them.”

  She sucked in a breath. An actual, physical pain in her chest accompanied Seok’s wo
rds. She did this. This was her fault. She pressed her hands against her stomach as if she could keep her nausea at bay. “I didn’t…”

  “You didn’t?” He drew his head back, like a cobra ready to strike. “You didn’t kiss him? And then him?” He pointed at Apollo, and then Matisse. “You didn’t make him think you were dating, and then him?” He pointed to each of them again.

  She shook her head, not because she was denying it, but because she didn’t want to believe kissing them led to this.

  But what had she expected would happen?

  Boys didn’t go around fighting over her. She wasn’t so full of herself she believed that. She did see, however, she had caused them each a massive hurt, which was the reason behind their fighting. They couldn’t punch her, so they punched each other.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to look at Matisse, and Apollo, and then Cai, and Ryan. She had acted inappropriately with all of them. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Finally, she looked at Seok. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  It was too much, she couldn’t hold their stares anymore. She was too ashamed. She wrenched her arm away from Ryan, who reached for her, and ran out of the room. Her side protested each step, but she ignored it. She had to get out of here.

  She’d go to the shelter, she’d sleep in the park, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t stay here a minute more. She ran up the stairs, panting and breathless now, throwing open the door to her room and grabbing the sweatshirt lying on the bed. She paused as she drew it over her head. Not even these clothes were hers. She dismissed the thought of leaving it behind. She had no choice. As soon as she figured out where to go after tonight, she’d return everything.

  And she’d find a way to pay them for this. She owed them.

  She didn’t realize she was crying, and so she stumbled into the person blocking her doorway without really seeing them. She swiped at her eyes, expecting to see Ryan or Apollo. Instead, it was Seok who held her in place.