Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits

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Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits Page 78

by Brandon Witt


  He slipped on his jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes and headed out. He planned on going downtown to Jake’s for a beer and a burger, but when he stopped, he found himself standing outside the library. Dammit! Ridley shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and started pacing back and forth, the song lyrics “Should I stay or should I go?” playing on a continuous loop in his head. “Yup, total fucking schoolgirl,” he growled under his breath and bounded up the steps.

  Ridley briefly wondered what people saw on his face when he pushed through the doors, because he was pretty sure he looked like a madman as he scanned the area and couldn’t find Alex. And that had nothing on how he must have looked when he repeated the scene the next day, and the next.

  He was beginning to get worried. He’d been coming to the library since the fall semester had begun, and Alex always worked on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. He spotted Amanda and rushed over. “Hey, Amanda. Remember me?” he asked, trying hard not to scare her with his craziness.

  “Oh, hi,” she said with a wave. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

  “Ridley.” He held out his hand.

  “Nice to officially meet you, Ridley.” She shook his hand and smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “Is Alex working today?”

  “Nope.”

  He waited for her to elaborate but she only shrugged. “Is he going to be here tomorrow?” he pressed.

  “Nope, won’t be here the rest of the week.”

  The unease intensified. “Is he sick?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Alrighty, then. He wanted to drill Amanda for more, but it was obvious from her curt answers and the way she was beginning to look at him suspiciously that he wasn’t going to get more out of her. He should have let it drop there, left well enough alone. It was beginning to become pretty apparent the bastard was avoiding him. Unfortunately it was easier said than done, because he simply couldn’t get Alex out of his head and something in his gut kept gnawing at him.

  “I THINK I’m losing my damn mind,” Ridley said by way of greeting when Rae slid into the booth at Jake’s.

  “Sorry, hun, but that happened years ago,” she chuckled and grabbed his beer, taking a big gulp.

  “Well aren’t you just fucking hilarious,” he grumbled as he snatched his mug from her and downed the last of the lukewarm brew.

  “That’s why you love me,” Rae said confidently and waved over the waiter.

  Ridley ordered them each a beer and paid for them. It sucked that he had to bribe his best friend into coming out with free booze. In her defense, she did have an exam early the next morning, but he was desperate.

  “Remember that guy I went out with the other night?”

  “The hot geek? Yeah, what about him?”

  “I haven’t heard from him since he left my apartment and he hasn’t been at work.”

  Rae cocked her head and gave him a confused look. “And the problem is?”

  “I can’t find him and he’s not returning my calls,” Ridley complained.

  “I still don’t see the problem. You guys hooked up, you fucked, you went your separate ways. You’ve been playing the same game for years.” Rae’s eyes went wide. “Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for someone?” Her tone was full of shock.

  They’d been best friends since they were in high school. She was his confidant, and there wasn’t much about him she didn’t know. So her incredulousness over his revelation was well founded. He’d never cared about a guy he’d fucked. Fucking was one thing and the clingy guys who expect more from Ridley had always bothered him. For the first time, he found he was “one of those guys,” and to say it had him feeling a little bit of guilt for the way he’d treated guys in the past was a huge understatement. Being used for sex sucked!

  “I’m just worried about him is all,” he deadpanned, but he was pretty sure she could tell he was lying since he couldn’t meet her eyes. The suds in his beer were way easier to look at.

  “Oh. My. God!” Rae said excitedly. “Ridley Corbin actually has some feelings beneath that tough-as-nails exterior.”

  “I hate you,” he muttered, but he couldn’t help but smile. She knew him too well.

  “So he’s not calling you and your gut is all messed up and you can’t sleep or think of anything but Alex. Oh and you’re constantly checking your cell phone like you were some crazy-in-lurve high school girl, right?” she said smugly, because damn if she didn’t get it right and she knew it.

  “Did I mention I hate you?”

  Ignoring his crass words, Rae leaned her elbows on the table and studied him. Rae was working on a degree in psychology, and Ridley could see the steam coming from her ears as she tried to figure out how to help him with his craziness. She’d always tried to get him on her therapy couch and “fix” him and his “inability to make meaningful connections with people.” Ridley thought he’d made some great connections in his past. His dick connecting to a hot ass or an even better connection—a hot wet mouth connecting with his dick or a thick pole connecting with his ass. Focus, dude. He knew what she meant now that he’d met Alex.

  “So, for the first time, you’re actually considering foregoing the one-night stand and thinking of the scary second date, huh?”

  Ridley gritted his teeth and leered at her, but she only smiled and waited. He was caught and knew it, so he just sighed and nodded his head.

  “And you want this second date with Alex Firestone.”

  Nod.

  “And he’s avoiding you,” she reiterated.

  Nod. Nod. Nod.

  Rae was silent for a long moment. When the silence stretched out way too long for comfort, Ridley gave her a questioning look. “Well?”

  “You’re going to have to admit to him your intentions.”

  “I did. I texted him,” Ridley said defensively. “Isn’t that admission enough?”

  “Nope.”

  “What do you mean nope?” Between Rae and Amanda, the word was beginning to grate on his damn nerves.

  Rae waved a hand dismissively. “I know you. I’m sure your text consisted of hey or what up? or some other stupid macho crap.” She pointed a finger at him. “You need to tell him you want to see him. Ask him out on a date.”

  “No fucking way. I’m not doing that,” he said adamantly and shook his head. “He’s avoiding me. I’ll look like a pathetic desperate loser.”

  “You are desperate and pathetic,” she sniffed. “I mean, look at you. When’s the last time you slept? You look like shit.”

  Ridley looked down at himself and then ran a hand over the week of growth on his chin. Grudgingly, he had to admit he was both of those things, but dammit, he wasn’t going to tell her she was right. Instead he said, “Yeah? At least I’m not a complete loser.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  Well, when it came to second dates, he was a loser. He’d never had one. He had no idea how to go about getting someone to go out on an actual date. He normally asked someone out with the intentions of fucking and sucking and not really caring if they even talked. He’d done that. Seduced a guy in a bar with only his eyes and was able to get his pants down and bent over the bathroom sink without ever saying a word. That had been hot as fuck, but still not as exciting as what Alex could do to him.

  “Order us another beer and I’ll teach you everything you’ll need to know,” Rae offered.

  By the time he and Rae parted ways an hour later, he had a game plan. He didn’t know how smart she was about relationships—she seemed to be in love at least once a month—but they’d already established he was desperate, so he was willing to try her silly Dr. Girly stuff.

  After leaving the bar, Ridley was walking past the lecture hall, flipping his phone in his hand and trying to figure out how best to put Rae’s words into a text with a little bit of his own style. Kyle’s voice coming from down the alley between the lecture hall and the administration building turned the blood in his veins to ice.

 
THE FOOTFALLS of his pursuers were getting closer. Alex scanned the area. Too many people. He lengthened his strides. He knew who was after him.

  At first, Alex had tried to ignore Kyle. When that didn’t work, he’d hoped that by showing the asshole he wasn’t intimidated—which he wasn’t—Kyle would look for easier prey to pick on. No such luck. Apparently Kyle had a hard-on for him and was looking for some action. He was going to have to deal with Kyle once and for all, but not here. Not with witnesses. Just past the lecture hall, Alex slipped down an alleyway, rushed to the end, and turned to face him head-on.

  It wasn’t the ideal place, too great a chance someone would come along, but it would have to do. Best-case scenario, he could show Kyle the error of his ways quickly and quietly, but he wasn’t holding out much hope. He was even less convinced it would end peacefully. He rolled his neck, squared his shoulders, and watched intently as Kyle and his friends approached.

  “I’ve been looking for you, nerd boy,” Kyle snarled.

  “Well, you found me. But I’d suggest you and your friends turn around and head back the way you came before it’s too late,” Alex warned, trying to keep his irritation in check, but it was difficult.

  Alex just wanted to keep his head down, take his classes, and chill. The last thing he wanted was attention. Attention was dangerous. Attention could get him killed.

  The five men stepped into the glow of the low light from above the steel door, Kyle leading the way, his henchmen flanking him with wide grins on their faces. A little more of Alex’s control slipped away, and he briefly thought of pulling the gun he had strapped to his side. Nope, too much noise. But…. No. He took a deep breath and curled his hands into fists.

  “You have no idea who the hell you’re fucking with,” Alex snarled.

  “You’re a brave little shit, I’ll give you that,” Kyle jeered. “I’m going to enjoy teaching you some manners on how to respect your betters.”

  “My betters?” Alex laughed. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Dumb fuck one here,” he said, pointing to John Nash, the defensive tackle on the college team and as big as fucking refrigerator, “is the only one who might give me a challenge, but even that is iffy since my guess is no muscle, all fat beneath that jacket.”

  “Why you little—”

  Alex tensed, moving into a defensive stance, fists up.

  “John, no!” Kyle snarled and shoved him aside before John could pounce. “Not yet. This little nerd boy is mine.”

  Kyle swung. Alex anticipated the movement, easily dodging the punch. He grabbed Kyle’s shoulder, and using his own momentum against him, pulled him closer and jammed his knee into Kyle’s gut, at the same time shoving him backward against his friends. One of them dropped a metal pipe, which Alex snatched up with lightning speed.

  John made a move. “Batter up,” Alex shouted gleefully and pulled the pipe back, readying his swing.

  Ridley appeared out of nowhere, his foot connecting solidly with the side of John’s knee. The howl that came out of that big fucker was proof Ridley had done some serious damage.

  Son of a bitch. Where had he come from? Alex didn’t have time to worry about it. Kyle and the other guys were back on their feet. Shit, shit, shit.

  Luckily, John went flying, and Ridley toppled down with the big oaf, landing on his side. Alex heard the loud harrumph as the air rushed out of Ridley when John’s shoulder connected squarely in the center of his chest. Alex would leave the two to roll around. One on one, Ridley should be safe, considering he’d already put a hurt on John and had the advantage.

  Alex spun, tightened his grip on the pipe, and swung, taking out Kyle’s knees before he could jump out of the way. Kyle’s scream of agony was satisfying. On the upswing, the pipe hit the brick wall. A jarring pain exploded in Alex’s hands and shot up his arms, causing him to lose his grip on the weapon. He didn’t have time to react. A fist connected with his jaw and he stumbled back, but he managed to right himself quickly.

  “Oh, you little cocksucker. You’re going to pay for that,” Alex warned.

  Alex took a second to check on Ridley—he was sucking in harsh breaths but getting to his feet. Alex realized his error in losing focus when his wrist was grabbed, he was spun, and his arm wretched upward painfully. Alex lost his balance on the uneven concrete and fell to his knees. The impact hurt like hell, but at least it forced his attacker to release him. Alex immediately rolled and jumped to his feet. Alex slammed a well-aimed right hook into the man’s mouth, followed seconds later by one to his nose. The man was out cold before he hit the ground.

  Alex saw the two-by-four seconds before it connected with the back of Ridley’s head. Ridley instantly fell forward, his forehead connecting with a sickening crack against John’s.

  “Motherfucker!” Alex howled and leapt. His boot connected with the fucker’s rib cage, sending him flying into the brick wall.

  Alex’s gut plummeted and he raced to Ridley, who hadn’t moved. Both he and John were out cold but breathing. Alex breathed in harshly as he stood over Ridley; his relief was almost as great as his anger. He didn’t know whether he should hug the man or kick him.

  As he surveyed the aftermath, the writhing and screaming men, the blood, the unnecessary violence, Alex began to shake, his anger taking the forefront. Pissed at Kyle and his friends for being douchebags, for forcing him to fight, for making him expose himself, at the whole fucking situation. Mostly he was pissed at Ridley for getting himself hurt and making Alex worry.

  Kyle was in a fetal position, clutching his knees, moaning and groaning. “Asshole! Serves you right,” Alex growled and pulled out his cellphone. “Make me have to call the goddamn law. I should have hit you in the head and knocked some fucking sense into you.”

  “911. What is your emergency?”

  “I’m going to need a pile of shit cleaned up in the alleyway between the lecture hall and Admin building,” Alex told the 911 operator and then thought of kicking Kyle again. Asshole!

  ONE MINUTE Ridley was trying to get on his feet and struggling to get air back into his lungs, the next, pain exploded across the back of his head and then all he knew was blackness.

  He woke to find Alex standing over him. It took a minute of blinking rapidly to get his face to come into focus, but Ridley knew it was him. Alex was looking all concerned, and Ridley said the first thing that popped into his head. “Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

  Alex’s concerned expression faded away and his lip curled into a smug grin. “I think the blow to your head rattled your brain,” he commented and held out his hand.

  Ridley took the offered hand and allowed Alex to pull him to a sitting position but then instantly wished he’d stayed down. The world started to spin and he grabbed the back of his head as it began to throb and shoot sharp pains down his neck.

  “Don’t try to get up yet,” Alex ordered. “The paramedics are on the way.”

  Ridley didn’t feel any blood, nothing damp at the back of his head, but he did have one hell of a goose egg. “Anyone get the license of the truck that hit me?”

  “No, but if we roll it over we might get it,” Alex said and nodded to one of the jocks laid out flat, arms stretched out liked he was flying and one hell of a shiner beneath his eye and blood running down from his split lip.

  “Your work?” Ridley asked, still rubbing his head. Maybe Alex was right and the blow to his head had scattered his brains or maybe he was still out cold and dreaming, because the scene around him made no sense. Three of the five men were rolling around screaming in agony, Kyle included, but John and Shiner Boy—Ridley didn’t know his name—were out cold. The kick he’d given John didn’t knock him out; in fact, he was sure he’d heard him still screaming just as the pain exploded in the back of his skull. It just made no fucking sense. Ridley may have wounded John, but Alex had taken on the other four and then put John completely out of commission.

  Ridley was still pondering it when he heard sirens in the dis
tance, getting close, fast. But not as fast as the world was spinning or as rapidly as the bile was shooting up his throat. “I think I need a doctor,” he groaned just before he puked all over himself.

  HE HAD a hell of a lump on the back of his head. Ridley supposed he should have been happy the fucker went for his noggin; he’d always been hardheaded. Concussion, the doc had called it, which had explained the puking—embarrassing as hell—and the ride to the hospital was pretty much a blur. One minute he was knocking John on his ass, the next thing he was in the emergency room sitting on a stretcher wearing a dress. He had flashes. He thought he remembered seeing Alex standing over him, or maybe that had been a dream, wishful thinking?

  “Mr. Corbin?”

  “Huh?” Ridley snapped his eyes open and scanned his surroundings. He was in a hospital room—how the hell did I get here? Wasn’t I just in the emergency room? He was hooked up to monitors, an IV running into his arm. What the hell?

  “Do you know what day it is?” the nurse asked and shined a light in his eyes, making him wince.

  “No.”

  “Can you tell me your name?” she asked in a professional tone as she shined the light in his other eye.

  “Attila the Hun.”

  “Ridley!” Rae chastised and slapped his arm.

  “Ow! Stop that. I’m injured,” he snapped. His head lolled to the side and he glared at Rae. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “Sir, could you please tell me your name,” the nurse asked again. The old fart didn’t sound at all amused.

  “Ridley Corbin. Can I go home now?”

  “That will be up to the doctor,” Nurse Old Fart said dryly and then left the room.

  Ridley sniffed and turned to Rae again, who was sitting in the chair next to the bed scowling at him. “That look doesn’t work on me,” he informed her. “I’m still going home.”

 

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