Players: Bad Boy Romance

by Amy Faye

  She shook her head, chastising herself for dwelling in the past. Troy didn't do anything to her, not since the day they first met. She had to stop letting her emotions get the best of her, and soon. He was her husband, as strange as that was.

  “You know, Elle, I think you two should start considering when you want to start trying for a child.” Grandma Ina said. She was sitting on the couch, looking out the window.

  “What?” Elle replied, hoping against all hope that she misheard.

  “Great grandbabies. Rosa and I were talking about them. We'd like to see at least one more child in our family before we die. Admittedly we're quite young, since we had our children young and they had theirs young, too. But we won't be around forever, dear, and part of having a child is having the wisdom of your elders passed to you.”

  Elle sat down on the floor, ready to pout. “You could write a book.”

  Rosa chuckled from the doorway into the kitchen. “That's not really how it works, my dear. You don't learn until you're truly in the trenches. Obviously you and Troy have to discuss it, but we hope you'll decide to have children soon.”

  Elle wanted to be sick. Even if she was willing to be nicer to Troy, that didn't mean she wanted to have kids with him. So why did the thought make her heart thump against her chest and bring a tiny smile to her face?

  “He'll be back soon, no doubt. Should we shut off the lights and hide?” Grandma Rosa asked. Elle's heart fluttered in her chest at the thought of seeing Troy, but she wasn't sure why.

  “Sure, let's hide.” Elle helped Grandma Ina to the stairs, where she could hide in the small room beneath them. It was used as a closet, but never very full. It had a pile of blankets that Ina could sit on.

  Grandma Rosa chose a spot in the kitchen, pressed up against the wall. She was giggling like a school girl. That woman always loved birthday parties, but had so few to plan since Elle was her only grandchild.

  Elle looked outside, and sure enough, Troy was running down the road with Roman. Troy was talking to the dog through his labored breaths, though she couldn't hear what he was saying. Since they were coming closer, she hid behind her dad's chair and waited for the light to turn on.

  Rosa's giggling quieted once she heard keys hit the door handle. “You're going to get so many treats today! Yes you are, boy!” The door opened slowly and Roman bounded in, followed by Troy. “It's dark as balls in here. Hang on, Roman, come back.”

  The light flipped on. Elle took a deep breath, then jumped up. “Surprise! Happy birthday!” They all cried.

  Troy stood stock still, staring at her for longer than he should. He just stood and stared.

  “Troy?” She said, stepping away from the chair. Ina and Rosa stepped forward too.

  His left eye twitched, and then with a gasp he was on his hands and knees on the floor, crawling towards the stairs. “Oh fuck! Bill, come on, you're gonna make it. Jesus Christ that's you're hand.” He recoiled at nothing on the floor. Roman followed him as he made it to the stairs.

  “Troy! What's wrong,” Elle asked, moving closer to him.

  “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” Troy answered, pretending to drag something heavy up the first step. “Jesus, Bill, you're bleeding everywhere.” He laughed. “You'll be fine, come on.”

  The display carried all the way up the stairs, where it suddenly stopped. Troy stayed on the floor at the top of the stairs, and then sobbed, a deep, horrible sob.

  “What did we do?” Elle asked, turning on Ina. “Did you know he would react like this?” Everything was going all wrong, and she didn't even have the option to freak out. She had to fix it. She had to fix the damage she had done to poor Troy.

  This was her fault, and she knew it.

  “No! Of course I didn't, I would never want to hurt my grandson. Go to him, Elle. Go to him now.” Grandma Ina took Grandma Rosa's hand, and they gave each other a worried look before turning the emotion on Elle.

  How was she supposed to fix a major breakdown like that? She didn't even know what could have caused it. It was obvious it was something from his time in the army, but she wasn't a therapist. What was she supposed to do.

  “Go be kind to him, Elle. Show him you care, but don't force him into anything,” Grandma Rosa said. “Your grandfather had episodes like that, when he came home from the war. Go be quiet with him. Listen to him. Do as he says, like a good wife should when her husband is hurting.”

  Be a good wife? She was barely a wife at all, she realized, and didn't know what being a good wife even meant, but she would have to try.

  Elle bounded up the stairs until she was at his side, but when she touched him he slapped her hand away. “Stay away from me,” the words were barely audible, but the message was clear. “Just stay away.” His voice was full of fear and hate and something else, something she couldn't place.

  Her heart cracked then. It didn't shatter, it just cracked with a million lines, and she realized suddenly that Troy was more to her than she thought. He was more to her, but he didn't want her. She had screwed things up worse than she even expected, had broken him somehow.

  Troy stood and glanced to Elle. His eyes were not kind. “I'm going to bed.” He left them, dumbfounded.

  Troy

  His vision seemed to pulsate with each beat of his heart. He just relived the single worst day of his life, and on top of that, he lashed out at Elle. He fucked things up, again.

  “God damn it!” He roared, punching into the bed. The women downstairs were cleaning up, and soon they left. All but Elle. The house was silent.

  I should just leave, he thought. It's not safe for me to be around Elle. I don't want to have another flashback and accidentally hurt her. I don't want to reenact my war stories in front of her.

  He sighed, still crying. I'm so thoroughly broken that I can't even keep from reliving the war. He wished, then, only that he could control himself. Control his mind, his emotions, his memories. But he was too broken, too destroyed by his time in the army.

  Now Elle will never be able to love me. He stopped, looking at himself in the small mirror across from the bed. Did that bother him? That she would never love him? I guess it does. I never really noticed, but I actually really like her. She's tough and beautiful, and so smart.

  He laid down, thinking about her. About how she would react if he ever said that to her. It probably would not go over very well. He smiled, thinking about kissing her face. Wishing she would come and kiss him.

  It ached in him, the desire to be loved by her. He wished for her comforting presence, the feel of her soft hands along his abs. And God, he wished for her arms to wrap around his neck and hold him close to her beating heart.

  Stop it, he thought. These thoughts will only make things worse. She could never be interested in me, not after that horrifying display. Now she knows that I'm a fucking mess, and there's no turning back.

  I should just leave.

  The thought made him cringe. Leaving didn't solve problems, but it did make them easier to bear. Not seeing her face every day would make it so much easier to be in love with someone who would never love him back.

  He wanted so desperately to touch her. The yearning mixed with the flood of memories he was still dealing with off and on made him dizzy, and the emotional pain felt very physical. Like his heart was having a seizure. Like someone was hammering something sharp into his skull. Like his teeth itched.

  A buzz in his pants alerted him to a text. It was Sam, asking where he was. That something so small could bring Troy back to reality amazed him, as the pulsating in his eyes faded away and the world felt real again.

  You coming?

  He thought about what he would say. Would Sam want to put up with his bullshit anymore than Elle? He had to lean on someone, though.

  Elle surprised me with a birthday party. Sent me into an episode, where I relived everything. I'm fucked up right now. Sure you still want to hang out with me?

  He pressed send, and looked out of his window over the top
s of the houses in their neighborhood. There was no way he could blame Elle for his own problems. That would be wrong, and shifting the blame sucks. He would have to take full responsibility and apologize before he left, if Sam still wanted to hang out.

  Dude I'll come get you right now if you want. Just say the word. You shouldn't be alone, so if your girl isn't helping, let me know.

  Smiling, Troy was about to take Sam up on the offer when there was a knock on his door.

  “Troy? Can I come in, please?” It was Elle. Her voice was muffled behind the door, but he could still tell it was filled with emotions.

  Troy stood, pressing his whole body on the door while he thought. He didn't know what to say. “I don't think you should,” he said.

  “Why not? Are you mad at me?”

  Troy was quiet for a long time. Why would she think he was mad at her? She did something nice to him, though it was misguided. It wasn't her fault she didn't know he was thoroughly fucked up.

  “Okay. I'll leave you alone. I'll be in my room if you want to talk.”

  God, she sounded miserable. Swinging the door open, he caught her arm. “Sorry. I was just trapped in my head. I'm not mad at you. I'm just...”

  She had been crying. Knowing that made Troy want to punch himself in his goddamn face.

  Chapter 10

  Elle

  His rugged, handsome face was tense, his mouth turned down in a frown. He looked... sad, and terrified still.

  "I don't mean to impose or anything, I was just worried. I didn't know you would react so poorly to being surprised. I don't think any of us did."

  Wiping his face with his hand, he motioned for her to follow him into the room. "I hide it well, but I guess I shouldn't." His square jaw tensed visibly as he sat on the bed.

  Elle sat next to him, looking into his pale face. Roman sat next to his master, watching her and protecting Troy. It hurt that the dog saw her as a threat to him. She nearly burst out crying again. "What do you hide? Is this about your time in the army?"

  He nodded. "Yeah." He looked like he didn't know what to say.

  "What happened?"

  "A woman. A suicide bomber. She caught us by surprise. When I came home, it took a long time to be even kind of okay around women. You were the first..." He trailed off, a pained look on his face.

  "The first what?"

  "The first woman I've met that didn't completely shut me down. I was scared, still, at first, but the fear faded."

  She reached out, touching his face. "I'm glad," she said. "I'm glad that I don't scare you. I'm so sorry to have destroyed that trust. Please, let me make it up to you somehow."

  "There is no way this is your fault, Elle. You can't blame yourself. I should have told you. I should have filled my medication sooner. It just makes me drowsy, and I was doing so good. I like feeling human around you, even though you pissed me off as much as you made me happy."

  I make him happy? She smiled as he let himself enjoy her touch on his face. Stubble was coming in on his chin, so that it was rough against her fingers.

  “So, how can I help? How can I make things easier on you, Troy?”

  “Just...” He thought. “No more surprises.” He smiled, but still looked like he was in pain. His phone buzzed.

  “Who's that?” She asked.

  “A friend. I paid for a gym membership a while ago. I was supposed to go spend the day with him, to avoid my birthday.”

  He hit a few buttons, then put the phone down. “There. He knows I'm okay. So, I'll explain to you what my doctor says, and hopefully that will help you understand better.”

  The explanation was long, and kind of confusing, but what Elle got from it was this: Don't scare him. Don't surprise him. Don't hide from him. Don't touch him when he's having a flashback.

  “Are they bad?” She asked. “The flashbacks. Are they all like before, where you reenact what happened to you?”

  “No. The one before that, it felt like… a dream. I slept it off. They're just panic attacks, usually, or a shaking hand.”

  “Oh, I know all about that.”

  “The anxiety, huh?”

  She nodded. “It sucks. So I'll do my best so that I never make you feel like that again.”

  Nodding, Troy's eyes stared off into space.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded, then shook his head. “I just don't know what to do from here. Where to go. I don't want to bother you. Do you think I should see if Sam has a room I can stay in? I know that this marriage thing isn't working out for you, and with me being kind of a mess...”

  “No, I don't want you to leave. Please stay, with me. I've been thinking, and you were right.” She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it go. “I've been awful to you. A real bitch, and you don't deserve it.”

  “You haven't been that bad.”

  “You don't have to lie to me. I know how I get. And I think… I think I understand it a little bit better, now.”

  “What's that mean?” He asked.

  Elle took his hand, holding it with a squeeze. “It means that my problem was actually that I was starting to like you. More than I expected to. And I was worried you would treat me badly, like when I was in high school.”

  He gasped and scooted closer to her. She could feel the heat from his body. “Of course I wouldn't.”

  “I know that now. Troy, I think I want to give this, us, a real try.” She paused, watching his face. She didn't want to force a decision on him right after a meltdown. The only intention of her words was to get her own feelings out there. He just looked confused. “Will you move into my room?”

  “Elle, no. I'm broken. I don't want to risk losing you...” He broke off, surprised at his own words. “I guess I have to admit that I started to like you, too.” She grinned, and planted her lips right on his. The kiss took him by surprise, but he didn't fight it.

  “You're not broken. You are fully formed, and stronger than you know.”

  “You should be scared of me. I was violent when I first got back...”

  “But you aren't now. And I trust that you would leave the situation if it were going to come to that.”

  He didn't look sure. “Please,” she said. “Come stay with me.”

  She stood up and held out her hand. He watched her, his emotions playing out on his face. Finally, he took her arm and let her lead him to her bedroom, Roman following behind.

  Laying on the bed first, she pulled Troy down with her and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her close, his breath slowing, until finally they both drifted off to sleep.

  Troy

  “Hey,” Troy said, chewing the bacon that Elle made for him. “I was thinking.”

  “Oh dear,” she replied with a sly smile. She was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties as she cooked eggs and more bacon for him.

  He made a rude noise with his mouth. “Don't be a jerk. I just wanted to say that I think we should take things slowly. No sex, until you're ready again. We went too fast and pushed things too far.”

  “It was our wedding night,” she reasoned with a shrug. “Things happen. Plus, I don't regret it. I didn't even regret it when we weren't getting along.”

  “I'm glad. I still think we should take things slow.”

  Elle put a plate of bacon on the table, offering an especially chewy strip to Roman. “Thanks. I think you're right.” Reaching across the table, she patted his hand. Just her touch was enough to warm up his whole body, though the Arizona heat did that on its own as well.

  “So I still don't know your schedule very well. What are your plans for the day?” He asked.

  She sighed. “I just have class. Computer science from 2 to 5.”

  “Cool. Do we have dinner plans?”

  “I could make up some burgers. I've been craving one hardcore lately.”

  “Perfect.” He grinned.

  She finished her eggs and bacon and ran upstairs. When she came down, her hair was up in a messy bun and she was fully dr
essed, holding her purse. “Hey, where do you think you're going? I thought we could watch some of that murder show before you went to class.”

  “I'm going to run to the grocery store and pick up some meat. I know you need some for Roman's dinner, anyway. Set up Netflix, and when I get back we can watch an episode or two.”

  With that, she left the house. Troy watched her from the window as she stepped up to her car. It was exceptionally old and dirty from the Arizona sand. He heard the car try to turn over, but it failed. She tried a few more times, then watched her silently swear, resting her head on the steering wheel.

  “Well, shit,” Troy said. “Let's go see if she needs some help, boy.”

  Troy and Roman both went outside, slowly. He didn't want Elle to blow up at him if she didn't want help. “You okay out here?”

  She wouldn't meet his eyes as she got out of the car. “Piece of shit won't start. It sounded pretty pathetic last time I drove it, too.”

  “Hmm. Pop the hood?”

  She did, letting him take a look inside. “It sounded really rough when you tried to turn it on, but I can't see anything that would be an easy fix. Your fluids are all low, but that wouldn't cause that awful clunking. I think it's time to call a mechanic.”

  “Fuck. How am I going to get to class?”

  Troy was already on his phone, searching for a mechanic nearby. “I can take you.”

  “On your motorcycle? I don't know.” She said.

  He looked at her, and seeing how frazzled she was, he took her by the shoulders. “Listen. Money isn't a problem. We can take care of this, whether that means fixing the thing or getting a new car. The only problem is how you'll get around, which I can fix.”

  “But aren't motorcycles unsafe?”

  “They can be, but I'm safe on it. I used to be a daredevil on the damn thing, but nearly got hit once. I don't want to die, especially not now. Plus, I definitely don't want to get you killed.” He smiled. “It'll be fine. Just for a week or two, in the worst case. Best case, a mechanic will be able to fix this easily.”