The Consequence of Revenge

by Rachel Van Dyken

  I backed away and bumped into another chick, causing her cell phone to crash to the floor—and shatter.

  “I am so sorry!” I bent over to pick it up and bumped heads with her. She fell on her ass and I stumbled into the Amazon, whose nails dug into my skin. I yelped and fell forward just as the girl started to get up.

  She fell. Again.

  Only this time I fell on top of her.

  “Aw, shit,” I said aloud as I realized who it was. Becca. The same Becca from the coffee shop. The pretty one who wanted a front-row seat to my tar-and-feathering.

  “Excuse me?” She huffed underneath me.

  Huh. Nice body. Nice . . . feeling her wiggle underneath my—

  “Get. Off!” she spit.

  “Sorry.” I stumbled back and offered her my hand.

  She did not take it.

  I wiped my hand on my jeans. As if it were sweaty, which it wasn’t; that just seemed like the right thing to do.

  “I’m sorry I made you fall.” I cleared my throat. “Twice.”

  “Yeah, well.” She dusted off her pants and sighed as she glanced at the broken cell phone in her hands. “It’s not like you did it on purpose.”

  “Or did I?” I joked, trying to lighten the situation.

  Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits.

  “So not a jokester, huh?” Kill me now. “I really am sorry . . . about . . .” Hell, I was ready to apologize for world hunger, her look made me feel that guilty. “Your phone and . . . ass.”

  “My ass?” she hissed.

  Her hair was longer than I’d originally thought. Hmm.

  “Next!” the lady at the ticket counter called.

  “After you.” I let her go ahead of me. See, I could be a gentleman. Unfortunately she was still glaring at me and ended up colliding with Amazon. Both tumbled to the floor. Only Amazon covered Becca’s entire body with hers.

  “Ohhh.” I snapped my fingers. That’s what she’d meant. She’d smother me to death with her height. Hooray!

  Drinks, where were the free drinks? Didn’t they have drinks on this show? Damn it! Give me alcohol!

  I wish I could say that the rest of the trip was like one of those Lifetime movies where people bicker, then end up falling in love and holding hands as they walk into the sunset with their equally hot bodies and all-around happy dispositions.

  False.

  Two of the chicks got sick on the plane. One of them threw up a seat behind me, making me gag.

  The turbulence was something out of a horror movie and if one more drunk girl shouted, “Snakes on the plane!” or “He can snake my plane anytime!” I was seriously going to parachute out of this thing—without the chute. Feel me?

  “So.” Rex plopped down in the empty seat next to me. “I take it you’ve had a while to read through the rules and regulations.”

  “Yup,” I lied.

  “Well.” His eyes narrowed. “Just to be sure, I brought an extra copy. Scan through it and put your initials at the bottom.”

  “Right.” I took the thin stack of papers and started reading.

  Luckily the girls weren’t allowed to talk to me, since the show hadn’t officially started. They were filming for promo but that was it.

  Rex mentioned something about their being under a gag order or something, with their contracts making it impossible for them to talk to me while we were actually flying, without being in breach of their agreements. Something about not wanting to miss all the good stuff by not filming. I hoped they would stay true to that because it looked like the crew was firing up cameras already.

  Yay me!

  I took a sip of my beer and started reading through the rules.

  The Bachelor may not give monetary gifts to the contestants.

  Oh, maybe they’d had problems with Bachelors in the past paying contestants to leave. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. A vision of Amazon woman came to mind.

  The Bachelor may not contact the outside world during his time on the Island.

  I rolled my eyes. Right. Even prisoners got a free phone call.

  The rules made sense. I continued reading and then got down to the really legal stuff.

  Mayhem Media Productions is not liable for any accident occurring during the four-week filming period. Death, even if accidental, could occur. Any hospital bills or mental health issues caused by the show or its affiliates are hereby the sole responsibility of the contestant.

  “Death?” I said out loud. “Who’s dying?”

  Rex chuckled from the seat in front of me. “Just legal jargon.”

  I started sweating. “Has anyone actually . . . died?”

  He grew very quiet.

  Too quiet.

  It was the type of quiet that made you itch all over and start tugging at your clothes. Because. They. Were. Choking. Me!

  “Not to worry,” Rex finally said. “He shouldn’t have jumped.”

  “Jumped?” I croaked.

  “Right. He had a weak heart.” Rex coughed. “Say, how’s your ticker? Seemed the doctor did nothing but sing your praises.”

  That happened when another bro was impressed with Mighty Max. Then again . . .

  Was it wrong to pray I never saw that doctor again? I gave an uncomfortable shudder. “Well, I’m glad he was impressed.”

  “Impressed?” Rex gave me a funny look, then took a sip of his drink. “I wouldn’t go as far as to say that—I mean, at first he was a bit confused.”

  “Confused?” I leaned forward. “Well, that’s what every man wants to hear from the doctor who held his balls in the palm of his hand—literally.”

  Rex chuckled. “Oh, not that, he just found it curious that you were going on a dating show when you already had a partner.”

  Well, crap.

  “I see.”

  “That is another rule.” Rex pointed to the stack of papers and sniffed. “That boyfriend of yours isn’t serious, is he?”

  “Oh, hell.” Was Jason seriously going to haunt me even when he wasn’t with me? “No. It won’t be a problem.”

  Rex turned red and pulled at his shirt. “Yeah, well, the doctor said you two were pretty chummy and you know that’s a breach of contract to—”

  “We broke up!” Holy shit. What was I doing?

  Rex’s face fell. “I see, so this must be such . . . great timing.” He waved his hand around as a girl teetered her way down the aisle toward us and promptly puked in the seat to my left.

  I jumped out of my seat and moved to the window seat while a stewardess walked by and started cleaning up.

  “I’m sick,” puke girl whined.

  I gagged and stuffed my fist in my mouth as I tried to lean far away from the fumes. Rex’s face went back to looking an orangey-purple. “Lola, take a minute, then tell me what’s wrong.”

  Lola? What the hell kind of name was Lola?

  She nodded and then plopped down onto a seat and put her head between her knees. Her stomach heaved again—this time making it into the nice little paper bag they provided for those types of things.

  It needs to be said. I didn’t have the strongest stomach. I wasn’t the type of guy who could hold your hair while you puked and not be affected. Did that make me the worst possible boyfriend ever? Maybe. It’s entirely possible I’d throw you a towel and run out of the room gagging.

  I know it’s romantic to women—oh, my gosh, he’s so sweet he held my hair while I puked up last night’s hot dog and enough rum and Diet Coke to kill Captain Jack Sparrow!

  Seriously? What do you women read? How the hell is that romantic? Give me one reason. One. Just one. I don’t even need three.

  Oh, wow, silence, big shock. You wanna know why? Because it’s gross. Because if I had long hair and I were leaning over the toilet, God, you would not, ever, in your right mind waltz into the bathroom, put it in a ponytail, rub my back, wipe my mouth, and think, Wow, I really love this guy, oh, look a cracker!

  Lola heaved again.

  “I
, ugh, gotta—” I pointed to the bathroom and ran down the aisle like I was getting chased through the Amazon. Ha, see what I did there?

  “Going somewhere?” A tall figure stood in front of me.

  Well, speak of the devil and she appears. Note to self: the woman is a mind reader.

  “Yeah, I was going to, um, take a piss.” I said it crassly, in a way that would make her think I was the most unromantic man ever to be created. Question, if I peed on her, would she run away or find it hot?

  Her eyes hooded.

  In her mind marking her was probably some sacred mating ritual—I’d find myself tied to a tree on that damn island while she danced around me and pointed at my parts.

  “After you.” I let her go in first.

  Smirking, she leaned down. “Why don’t we go in together? Nobody’s looking anyways . . .”

  “You want to pee with me?” I laughed nervously, trying to step away. Oh, shit, she moved so she was blocking me from running. I was trapped. I was sweating. Damn you, Jason!

  Amazon—I’m sure she had a name but I didn’t want to know it lest I classically condition myself to pee my pants every time I heard it said aloud—eyed me up and down and licked her lips. “No, I want to play with you.”

  “Ha-ha,” I chuckled. “It’s against the rules.”

  “I don’t follow the rules.”

  “No shit.”

  She hovered near me and then, no joke, lifted me into the air, my feet dangling, her breath hot on my neck. Where was Rex? The plane wasn’t full and the curtains to coach were pulled. In that moment I wondered if this what Frodo felt like when he was fighting orcs. Helpless? Small? Afraid? Did she smell fear?

  “Oh, there you are!” Becca threw open the curtains and sighed, directing her attention to Amazon. “Sherry stole your pine nuts.”

  Amazon dropped me onto my feet, swore under her breath, and started stampeding down the aisle toward her seat. I was half-tempted to chase after her and yell, “Git!” But that would have suggested I had been the one to scare her off, and sadly that had been done by a pint-size barista who looked like she found the idea of serving me rotten coffee . . . invigorating.

  Becca rolled her eyes and reached for the bathroom door.

  “Uh, thanks,” I mumbled. “For white-knighting me like that . . . it was . . .”

  “Degrading?” she offered. “Embarrassing?”

  “Um.” I sniffed and tried to puff up my chest to make myself look like more of a man instead of a toddler. “I was thinking brave?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “That’s twice now.” Why was I still talking? Clearly she would rather see me jump out of the plane than actually talk to her, yet there went my mouth!

  “Twice?” She tilted her head, pieces of blond silky hair falling across her bare shoulders. “That I’ve saved your ass or that you’ve made an ass out of yourself?”

  I laughed. “Aw, my jackassery is interchangeable!”

  “Probably not something to celebrate.” Becca winked and opened the door to the small bathroom, closing it behind her, leaving me in the hallway with a stupid grin on my face and a slight tingling in my chest.

  What the hell?! I coughed.

  I hit my chest.

  The tingle remained.

  Well, damn.

  “You okay?” Rex came up behind me and offered me a drink.

  “Just fine.” I threw back the entire drink in one swig and waited for that annoying little feeling in my chest to go away.

  Nothing.

  And four minutes later, after I’d found my seat, the feeling returned tenfold when Becca made her way down the aisle back toward her row.

  Turn around. Just turn around.

  And she did.

  But instead of blowing me a kiss, winking, flirting, really doing anything that would establish that I was the catch in this scenario and not her—she turned and smiled. The smile. The patronizing smile known worldwide as the friend smile.

  I’d just been zoned.

  And that feeling in my chest?

  It was there to stay.

  Damn crushes.

  “Try to get some sleep.” Rex walked by me and winked. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

  “Sleep,” I mumbled. “Right.”

  “Oh, here you go.” He slipped me a pill and nodded. “It will help with the nightmares.”

  “Um, nightmares?” I examined the pill.

  “Not really FDA-approved, but . . .” Rex chuckled. “You’ll need the strong stuff to be able to sleep at night.”

  I gulped. “Is the pill a temporary thing or—”

  Rex laughed nervously and wiped some sweat from his brow. “Only two of our Bachelors have ever had to see the psychiatrist past the recommended year.”

  “A YEAR?” I shouted.

  Rex nodded. “Twenty-five women.” He swallowed. “The way I see it, a year’s getting off easy.”

  “Swell.” I popped the pill in my mouth and swallowed.

  “Good choice.” Rex patted me on the shoulder again, only this time I barely felt it. Holy shit! I was flying, soaring through the air. Superman. I’d just turned into Superman. If Reid could see me now!

  I fell into a dream-filled sleep—where I saved damsels in distress and kissed girls named Becca. It was nice.

  Until I woke up.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BECCA

  “He looks weak,” said Gina, who was sitting to my left.

  Um, how about anyone would look weak standing next to her? She looked like she’d just finished competing in the CrossFit Games and had decided to kill her male competition for the extra challenge.

  “I think he’s hot.” To my right, Stormy giggled.

  Ugh. On one side I had a man-eater and on the other I had a giggler, someone who when nervous decided the only way to break the awkward tension was to fill the air with the sound of her laughter.

  Only I wouldn’t call it laughter.

  Stormy made me want to never laugh again. Seriously, she was a joy stealer, who almost ruined the experience of being happy for everyone just because she was so terrible at expressing it.

  “Whatever.” Gina clenched her pine nuts in her hand. “I’m going to win the money regardless.”

  “So you’re here for the money? Not for Max?” Stormy asked. Holy crap! No giggles! My mouth dropped open in shock, and then the giggles came. “He, he, I just think, te, te, te, te, he’s way hotter than the quarter of a million dollars they’re throwing our way. Besides, if you find love with Max you both get the money!” More giggling, more blushing. I wrapped my hands around my seat belt so I wouldn’t do the same thing to her neck. Wow, two hours on a plane and I was already getting violent.

  “I’d crush him with my bare hands.” Gina popped another nut into her mouth. No worries, the visual wasn’t lost on me. Poor Max wouldn’t last a day in her clutches, which was probably why I felt the need to save him.

  I was that girl.

  I rescued dogs.

  Slammed on my brakes when ducks crossed the road.

  And freaking bawled my eyes out like a baby when I saw How to Train Your Dragon in theaters.

  My poor nieces went home and announced to my sister that I’d cried so loud in the theater that the manager came and tried to offer us our money back—he thought I was upset.

  I’d made up a story about how I’d just broken up with my boyfriend. Lies. All lies. But I didn’t want the hot theater manager to know I was actually just really crushed that Toothless had almost died.

  Yeah, needless to say, I’m not the first-choice aunt to go to movies with anymore.

  “It’s a competition.” Gina cracked her knuckles; I scooted toward Stormy and winced as Gina continued popping body parts. “And I’m going to win. You girls don’t stand a chance.”

  I swallowed. “Right.”

  “Some of us are here for the right reasons, Gina.” Stormy sniffed and looked away, ending the conversation and making me feel so
tense I wanted to jump out of the plane. I’d always hated the middle seat anyway. Where the heck do you put your arms? Both girls were taking up so much space that every time I decided to inhale it was a tossup between sucking in the air that was permeated with the odor of pine nuts or the air that smelled like baby powder.

  Gross.

  “Ladies!” Rex clapped his hands from the front of the plane. “The competition has officially begun.”

  Squeals were heard around the plane, followed by laughter and more giggling. If I hadn’t needed the money I would have seriously quit right then and there. But two hundred and fifty grand? It was a lot. And even if I only survived the trip and was one of the last four girls? I still took home twenty, which would be more than enough to pay for my last two years of college, plus housing.

  That was the agreement between me and my parents. They had paid for two years; I would pay for two years. I’d taken out loans for my junior year and now that I was starting my senior year, reality was starting to hit me in the face. I needed money—fast.

  “Your first mission,” Rex said, interrupting my thoughts, “is to earn the Bachelor’s trust as well as his love. Earn both, and you win half a million dollars. Or, at the end of the game, you can choose to go your separate ways and take your half of the money, leaving the Bachelor at the altar.”

  Rex paused dramatically. “But our Bachelor this year, well, he’s special . . . I’m guessing you won’t want to dismiss him too early on. After all, it’s not every day you have the opportunity to marry a millionaire.”

  Gina dropped the pine nuts onto the tray table and swore.

  Stormy giggled.

  A girl in front of me collapsed and needed to be slapped to be woken up.

  A flight attendant started handing out champagne. Right, because that’s just what these girls needed. More alcohol. Because that always helped people make sound decisions.

  “All of you are here for two reasons.” Rex eyed us all suspiciously, his orange face dancing with delight. “Money and love. But this year we’ve brought you both in the same package. The choice is yours. Now, let’s get to know the new Bachelor, shall we?”

  I took a glass of champagne and watched in fascination as Max appeared on the screen.

  “What’s your full name?” a female voice asked.