Ruthless Heart

by Eve L Mitchell

  Then I realised I was being stupid. They thought I had stolen from him, if only they knew the truth. I’d been wrestling with his touch all afternoon. Hands that had brought me such pleasure on Friday had been restrained from causing me harm this afternoon. And I had no doubt that he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat and squeeze.

  “Maybe I hurt his ankle,” I blurted in realisation. Had I somehow caused him harm on Friday, which meant I was the reason he was injured to play? I had been tender on Saturday, maybe he had too. Is that what I had taken from him? The ability to play? More importantly, was I brave enough to ask? I didn’t really have a choice.

  “You’re deep in thought,” Mia said from behind me. “How did you hurt his ankle?”

  “What?”

  “You just said maybe you hurt his ankle?” Mia got drinks out of the fridge and then forks before placing them on the breakfast bar as she watched me. “Heard a few people say his ankle seemed fine as he was chasing you over the campus.” Mia giggled again as she winked at me in humour. “I would have loved to have been there.”

  “It wasn’t funny.”

  “Why? Tell me, did he hurt you?” She instantly sobered.

  “It’s nothing.” Turning my back on her, I drained the pasta. “He was slightly aggressive, and I threw my coffee at him in a temper.” As I emptied the pasta into the pot with the sauce, I concentrated on it rather than meet Mia’s stare.

  “Aggressive how?”

  “Just...I dunno. Demanding.” I served two portions into the bowls. “And rude.”

  “Well, if he was rude, he deserved to be latte’d.”

  “It was the perfect cup too.” I mourned the loss of my caffeine. “I should have hit him with my book bag.”

  Mia snorted as she picked her bowl up and went to the couch. “Not sure you should have hit him at all,” she chided as she sat down. “Violence breeds violence, remember.” Scooping up a forkful of her supper, she looked at me as I ate my own. “You’re going to have to apologise.”

  “No.”

  “Ava, he’s the most popular guy on campus. They’re already talking about you damaging him. These football people are crazy.” Her shrewd look made me flush. “You know this better than anyone.”

  “I didn’t damage him.” Staring sullenly at my dinner, I set the bowl aside. “He needs to tell people he chased me.”

  “People know he chased you because you threw a hot drink at him.” Mia was looking at me with concern. “Please tell me why.”

  “It’s nothing, I spoke to him on Friday.” I assumed I had...I don’t know what I said, but I’m sure we must have said something at some point to get to where we ended up.

  “Friday!” Mia screeched. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

  “Because I don’t remember.”

  “Oh.” Her incredulous excitement at me talking to the star quarterback faded when she realised I was that drunk. “Oh no, you won’t know what you said...at all.” Her hazel eyes were wide again, only this time in realisation. “You’re screwed.”

  “Eat your dinner,” I told her even as I nodded in agreement.

  “I bet you criticised his game,” Mia said knowingly. “You would have mouthed off about football, and he probably took offence.”

  Complete guesswork on her part, but it wasn’t unlikely. I just knew he hadn’t taken offence, or if he did, he had a strange way of showing it. “Who knows, I didn’t get the chance to ask.”

  “Well, we can fix this,” Mia told me confidently as she resumed eating. “We’ll explain you’re a forgetful drunk, and he will understand.”

  It was my turn to be incredulous. “You do know who we’re talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mia. They aren’t called the Devils for no reason,” I reminded her. “They pull shit on people for less than this.”

  “This is different.” Mia could be completely oblivious sometimes. “Don’t worry, Ava, we’ll fix this. I’ll think of something.”

  I didn’t have her confidence as I ate my supper. In fact, I felt the pasta sitting heavily in my stomach in trepidation at Mia’s idea of fixing. I possibly would have more luck with him on my own.

  Should I stick to the plan, corner him on his own, and hope he had a conversation with me? I wondered. He didn’t seem to be averse to talking…before. Setting my food aside, I met Mia’s worried stare.

  “I can talk to him,” I told her quietly.

  “Okay.” She nodded in enthusiasm. “We’ll find him tomorrow at lunch and let him know what happened.”

  Standing, I picked my bowl up and took it to the sink. “I think I would be better talking to him myself,” I said to the sink, keeping my back to my best friend.

  “Really? I don’t.” Mia laughed, her tone light and cheerful. “You’re terrible at socialising and will probably end up telling him that he needs to work on his arm or something.”

  “His arm’s fine, he needs better footwork inside the pocket,” I told her as I grabbed the dish cloth and wiped my hands.

  Her knowing look as she finished her supper was enough to make me groan. “Which is why I will talk, and you just say sorry, okay?”

  “What if it has nothing to do with his game?” I thought perhaps giving her the entire information of the evening may have been a bad idea. She knew I was drunk, now she knew exactly how drunk I was, and I couldn’t have her knowing any more. I was thanking every angel in heaven she hadn’t put me as his bed partner together in her head.

  “Well, what else could it be?” Mia rose to her feet as she carried her bowl to me, and taking it off her, I once again turned to the sink.

  “I dunno,” I mumbled as I rinsed and washed her dishes.

  “Just let me handle this, okay?” Mia said as she hugged me from behind. “I’m going to practice,” she told me as she gave me another squeeze, and I nodded before she was humming to herself as she walked down the short hallway to her room.

  Staring out the window to the surrounding dorm houses and apartments, I once again dried my hands before I folded the tea towel and put it on the side of the counter. My fingers traced over the grey and white imitation marble countertops before they landed on the slightly yellowing grey and white checked vinyl flooring.

  We’d been so lucky to keep the apartment from freshman year. Yes, we both complained about the small size of it, but the only people sharing the bathroom was us, and we weren’t sharing kitchen facilities. Nor did we have to stick to what the cafeteria served us three times a day. Even though my scholarship covered meals, there was only so many times you could eat cafeteria food.

  I had been inside some of the other accommodations, and there was worse than our apartment, but then, there was better. I had a dim recollection of the size of Jett’s bedroom and bathroom, although I was fuzzy on the details. I looked at our humble apartment, taking in the two-seater sofa and single armchair. The TV was tiny, but neither Mia nor I cared about TV, and plus, if we wanted to see anything, we used our laptops.

  I often lay in bed with my iPad and headphones if I got caught in a binge-worthy series. The Walking Dead came to mind, which I had watched on my own. There was no way in hell Mia was going to watch it, as there was too much gore.

  I was restless. The need to sort this shit out with Jett was making me struggle to focus. Checking the time, I made my way to my own bedroom. Slipping on sneakers and checking my hair was tidy, I quickly brushed it before putting it in a ponytail. A moment later, it was loose again—easier to hide behind. I contemplated lip balm for my dry lips, or would that look like I was desperate…or making an effort?

  I didn’t want either option to be a possibility, never mind considered. I wanted him to only listen to what I was saying to him.

  Hesitating at Mia’s door, I heard her singing her scales, and knowing not to interrupt her, I left the apartment after leaving a note on the breakfast counter.

  The walk through the campus was sticky and not entirely pleasant. Halfway to
Jett’s house, I ended up scraping my hair off my neck and face, tying it up. My thin T-shirt with a cartoon dog on it and the slogan Coffee…because murder is wrong had seemed cute when I picked it to wear this morning. Now it seemed juvenile. My denim shorts were modest, not short shorts like Mia wore. Just normal denim shorts with a woven belt. My white Chucks still needed a good clean.

  As I walked, I realised I probably should have made more effort in my appearance. Jett was not used to laid back and easy-going Ava. He thought I was uptight. Looking down at my scuffed sneakers, I grinned. Well, I would never be accused of being high maintenance.

  My feet faltered as I stood off to the side of his house. It was huge. I mean, I knew it was big, I’d been past it before, never really paying attention to it, thinking of it as the “footballers’ house,” but now, knowing I had to go up and knock…my teeth worried my bottom lip. Maybe I needed Mia after all.

  “Is there a reason you’re here?”

  Turning swiftly, I looked up at Ash. He was blocking the sunlight, making it hard to see his features. Looking him over, I took in the ripped black jeans and the drop armhole T-shirt with the slogan I’m a Saint splashed across it.

  “Hi,” I greeted.

  Ash moved slightly, and I had to turn to avoid the sun, enabling me to see him better. Gone was the friendliness from Monday. Instead, his eyes narrowed in anger. “What do you want?”

  Shoving my hands into my back pockets, I rocked back on my feet. “I came to see Jett.”

  “He’s busy.”

  “It will only take a moment,” I said to him as I looked toward the house.

  “He’s still busy.”

  “You can tell from being out here?” Yes, that’s right, antagonise them all. This wasn’t helping. “Look, I just need to speak to him for a few moments. There’s been a misunderstanding.”

  “Like what?” Ash moved again, and I mirrored his movement until I realised the bastard was now between me and the house. What an effective blocker he was, no wonder they loved him as a tight end. “Tell me, I’ll pass it on.”

  “Um…”

  “You have no idea what you’re going to say for what you’ve done?” Ash looked surprised.

  “I really didn’t think of it,” I admitted as I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug. “I was hoping inspiration would hit me on the way here.”

  Ash grunted, but he didn’t move from his spot.

  Resignation settled around my shoulders. “You’re not going to let me get to the door, are you?” I asked him.

  “My cousin is not someone you want to piss off. At the moment, you’re the number one reason he’s not playing.” Ash folded his considerable sized arms as he looked down at me. He had to have been a foot taller, or thereabouts, he was so…big. Everywhere. “You want to walk in there to meet his wrath for a few moments with no plan and fuck all to say?”

  “I could come back another day,” I offered as I realised he was actually doing me a favour.

  “You do that,” he said with amusement as he turned and walked away from me. “That’ll be so much better.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured, not knowing if he heard me. Still, I thought that he had just done me a solid. What was I thinking, coming here with no plan? Strategy. Football was a game of it, and I loved strategy. Jett would appreciate a good strategy. If I couldn’t appeal to his human side, I would raise my game to the game he understood.

  With a clearer head than I arrived with, I started walking back to the apartment with a plan.

  It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I realised Ash had been being sarcastic when he had walked away from me. Well, damn.

  I finished typing up my assignment as the door was knocked, and making sure I had saved the document, I called out for them to enter.

  “Hey,” Ash said as he poked his head around the door. “Safe to come in?”

  With a grin, I spread my arms in welcome as I pushed the chair back from the desk. “What’s up?”

  “Just spoke to Ava.” Ash sat down on my couch as I looked at him with surprise. “She was outside, literally hopping from foot to foot about approaching the door.”

  “She’s here?” I was on my feet, anger pulsing through me.

  “No.” Ash watched me carefully as I crossed to the window, leaning out to see if I could see her. “I told her to go.”

  Spinning back to him, I tilted my head in question. “Why?”

  “Because look at you,” Ash spoke quietly. “You look ready to kill her.”

  “She spiked my drink and then fucked me.” At his sharp inhale at my bluntness, I stalked towards my cousin. “Both literally and figuratively.”

  “I know.” Ash nodded as he looked up at me.

  My eyes narrowed as I looked down at my cousin. “Then why do I think you’re helping her?”

  “Because I’ve thought about it. I met her on Monday, she’s...completely unassuming.” Ash stretched his legs out as he seemed to think about it. “Look, you’re right to be pissed. I’m pissed. But...” He trailed off as he looked past me to the other side of the room.

  “But?”

  As his eyes came back to mine, he grimaced slightly. “I think there’s more to this story.” He held my look and didn’t shy away from it.

  “You think she’s innocent?” I asked him in disbelief. “Or tell me, is it because you saw her naked ass as much as I did on Saturday morning? You want a turn at her, that it?”

  Ash wagged his head as he stood. “No, and don’t be a fucking asshole.” His shoulder bump as he passed me made me grit my teeth. “I sat beside her Monday. She does absolutely nothing to draw attention to herself, and earlier today, that fucktard Leitch ripped her to pieces, I mean it was fucking brutal. Someone should report the fucker. She should report him!” Ash sighed. “You don’t sit through that...that...humiliation without a word spoken, not if you’re the kind of person who drugs others.”

  “So? Maybe she’s only tough when she’s victimising someone.”

  Ash’s laugh was loud in my room, echoing off my walls. “Dude! You? You’re never a victim. The whole house heard you fuck her. They all heard her screams, and apparently you weren’t quiet either. Do you know how many guys in this house jerked off to the sound of you fucking her?”

  “I don’t care,” I snapped. “What’s your point?”

  “Exactly. You don’t care,” Ash bit back at me. “And my point? My point is that you may have been drugged, but have you read about Versed? It’s used as an anaesthetic.”

  “So?”

  “So, you stupid fuck, it makes you fucking sleep! You fucked her what, three, four times? Does that sound like someone who is almost fucking passed out?”

  My next words died on my tongue. I hadn’t thought of that. “So? Maybe I had a different reaction.”

  “Dude, all I’m saying is, if her intent had been to drug you and take advantage, you wouldn’t be an active participant. Understand?” His furious look made me pause, but I was a Santo and we were stubborn.

  “And?”

  “And…I don’t think she drugged you. I think something happened in between the two events.” Ash sat back down again. “We’re missing something.”

  “Yes, it’s called my memories.”

  “Stop being a diva,” Ash muttered as he leaned forward, his elbow on his knee, his head dropping into his palm as he stared at my wall. “We’re missing something. Something vital.”

  “And the person who may be able to help, you just turned her away,” I reminded him.

  “I did.” Ash sat back as he looked at me. “Look at you, you’re ready to rip her head off. Gray already told me you were going to wring her neck earlier. She’s not safe around you at the moment.”

  “Again, I would like to say that she drugged me.”

  “Again, I would like to say I don’t think she did,” Ash mimicked me.

  I started to pace the room as I thought about it. No. She knew she did something wrong, why else would she run? Y
ou don’t run if you’re innocent. Do you? Christ knows she was mouthy; she would have had no qualms about telling me exactly where to shove it if she was innocent.

  No, I’d been fooled by her before. She knew more than she was telling, and I wanted to know it all.

  “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?” Ash asked me with a rueful look.

  “I did, I listened.”

  “But you don’t care?”

  “No. I really don’t. She’s not as innocent as she looks.”

  “I know, I heard about her from Friday,” Ash deadpanned.

  The door swung open, and Gray pulled up short when he saw the two of us, reading the room in a heartbeat. “What’s happened now?” he asked as he closed the door.

  “You sound more like mom every day,” I said to him, causing both of them to give a light laugh. I saw the tension leave my cousin’s shoulders as he relaxed when Gray dropped down beside him.

  “Seriously, what is it?” Gray asked. I gestured for Ash to fill him in, and in truth, I wasn’t happy when my brother started nodding alongside him. “It kind of fits,” he mused. “I mean, when Ben knocked her over with the ball, she was more conscious of people staring at her than she was of who I was.” Gray flicked his eyes over to me. “Even when she spoke to you after it, she was more...pissed than anything.”

  “Incensed,” I mumbled as I crossed once more to the window.

  “Yeah,” Gray nodded thoughtfully.

  “Have we learned anything else?” I asked as I turned to both of them.

  “Yeah, the guy Wade, the band’s his.” Ash handed me his phone. “That’s his long-term girlfriend—your fuck buddy isn’t her. His band’s been playing some of the campus bars here and in Cardinal. They sometimes go further out but not often.”

  Gray was scanning Ash’s phone before he was showing him his. “Got this off Facebook: blondie draws and designs his band’s posters.” Gray grinned at me. “She gets paid for it.”

  “Does she indeed?” My twin always knew what to say to me to make me feel better. “Declared?”

  “Nope.” Gray sat back and closed his eyes. “I’d say she’s in violation of her scholarship.”