22. Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Tallahassee
Being able to spend the weekend with Darren, just the two of us was magical.
Despite my best efforts to resist him, he’s smashed through my walls, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to fall in love with him.
Tonight, Darren’s hanging out with his friends in the dining room, waiting for my shift to end. After work, we’re going to give our bowling date another try. I check my watch. Less than an hour left of my shift.
I’ve just stepped out of the bathroom when, all of a sudden, I’m pushed against the wall. I squeak, but I’m not afraid. The instant I feel him against me, my body recognizes him, and my pulse kicks up.
He’s close, his chest against mine, caging me in with his big body. My arms slide around his neck, and I exhale his name, “Darren.”
He kisses me until I can’t think, can’t breathe, can barely keep myself upright.
“Fuck, baby, what you do to me,” he groans when his lips leave mine. “It’s impossible to keep my hands off you.”
I couldn’t agree more. I’m ready to drag him out of here and strip him out of his clothes. He isn’t helping the situation by staring at me with those hypnotic, take-me-to-bed eyes.
Glancing back over my shoulder, I catch him adjusting himself. I flash an arrogant smile, knowing I did that to him.
I’m not shocked he found me in the hallway. Since the incident with Vincent, Darren’s been more watchful and protective when he’s at McQueen’s and I’m working.
When I reenter the dining room, still riding the high of Darren’s kiss, the bartender flags me down. “There’s a call for you.”
That’s odd. Who’d be calling me?
“Hello?”
“If you don’t want me to come inside and make a scene, meet me outside.”
My blood runs cold. It’s Vincent.
“I’m working. I can’t just drop everything whenever the mood strikes you.”
“You don’t want to make me angry, Tallahassee. Outside. Now.”
This is nothing more than another one of his manipulations.
The more I give in to him, the more I let him order me around, the more he’ll demand.
I need to do something, but I’m not sure what the best course of action is.
Nash has been talking with an attorney, but I’m concerned about what Vincent will do in retaliation if I apply for a restraining order or file a police report.
Would that trigger him into action? Everyone believed him the first time.
He could tell the police I’m only accusing him now to get back at him for “telling the truth” about me then.
Sure, I’m old news. But now I’m back. If he goes to the press, even one story about my reappearance will put me back in the spotlight and drag all those rumors back to the surface. It’ll restart the entire shitshow. And who knows what new lies Vincent will tell to renew their interest.
He’s got me over a barrel, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
My heart starts to race, and my breath is coming quicker.
I can’t lose control. Having a panic attack now is not an option.
I don’t doubt he’ll do what he’s threatening and can’t imagine what he’ll say or do if he comes strolling into McQueen’s.
Knowing I can’t risk him coming inside and pitching a public fit, I jog down the stairs and out the front door. My eyes scan the lot until I see him.
“I’m here. What do you want?” I snap when I reach him.
“What? No hello? No good to see you?”
“What the fuck do you want, Vincent?”
“Unfortunately, the well has run dry, and I need more money.” His odious grin is unapologetic. He’s not at all ashamed by the demand. “Lucky for me, you’re back in town. It’s kismet. A million should do it…for now. In cash, if you don’t mind.”
“Is this some kind of a joke?”
“No, it’s a shakedown. A million dollars. Otherwise, I’ll have to restart my campaign against you.”
“Are you insane? I don’t have that kind of money.” My voice is steadier than my pulse.
“But Nash does. Didn’t he recently sign a big, fat, multi-million-dollar, four-year contract with the Reapers?” He waves a hand toward McQueen’s. “I mean, look at this place. It must be worth a fortune.”
What did I ever see in him? How did I miss the signs of his narcissism? How did I not see what a greedy, gold-digging scumbag he is?
He steps toward me, and I flinch away. “I’m not an unreasonable man, Tallahassee. I’ll give you thirty days to get me my money.”
Thirty days. Thirty days to figure out what to do.
“But remember, if you stiff me, I’ll let the world know you’re back home, where you’re hiding, and spread a whole new round of juicy lies about you.
This place will be swarming with press in the blink of an eye.
” He steps closer, and I recoil until my back hits a parked car.
“And this time, Tallahassee, I’ll take the gloves off and include your family,” he sneers.
“How rabid do you think the press will get if I out your faggot brother and lesbo parents?”
How did he find out about Nash?
I gasp, my hand flying to my chest.
“You wouldn’t.” The words are nothing but a whisper.
The way he smiles at me is pure evil. “You know I would. Thirty days, Tallahassee.”
With that threat hanging between us, the bastard struts away.
I stand here, staring after him, a sick feeling spreading through my gut. If I give in to his blackmail and beg Nash to help me, Vincent will never stop asking for more.
For the first time in years, I’m finally feeling comfortable and content with my life.
And Vincent has swooped in and is about to steal that serenity away from me.
And this time, he’ll come for my family too.
My parents won’t give a shit, they’ve never hidden who they are.
But Nash…it would be worse for him than it ever was for me.
Pro sports isn’t known for being gay-friendly. His teammates might treat him differently. His mental state, and how he plays, could be affected. It could destroy his career. The press would never stop hounding him, trying to catch and photograph him with another man.
And it would be all my fault.
Suddenly, I’m being spun and slammed against a car.
I was so distracted by Vincent’s threats, I failed to stay aware of my surroundings. Pain bolts through me. The force knocks the breath from my lungs. I’m disorientated, and my vision is blurry.
It takes several seconds to become clearheaded enough to recognize my attackers. It’s the tattooed drunk guy whose balls I grabbed a couple of weeks ago and his three friends. The one with the nose ring is filming with his phone.
“You fucking whore!” the tattooed man screams. “You think you can humiliate me and get away with it?”
He throws a punch, immediately followed by another. My head snaps to the side, pain exploding along the left side of my face. Stars burst in my vision. The distinctive, metallic taste of blood floods my mouth. My legs give out, and I slide down the side of a car, hitting the asphalt.
He grabs me by the ankle, dragging me around the corner of McQueen’s and out of sight near the dumpsters. My shirt rides up, the asphalt painfully biting into my skin, scraping my back raw.
Dazed and half-conscious, I don’t have the strength to fight back when he climbs on top of me. Straddling me, his thighs crush my ribcage, the weight of his body pinning me to the ground and making it hard to breathe.
He slaps my face a couple of times. “Don’t pass out on me.”
When I glance up, I feel like I’m staring into the face of evil.
“You’re gonna want to stay awake for this.”
He rips my shirt open, buttons flying and skittering across the parking lot. As his hands begin groping me, he informs me they’re all going to take turns raping me. To emphasize his point, he squeezes my breasts so hard I know they’re going to bruise.
“Hold the bitch,” he orders his friends.
The twins pin down my shoulders. Nose ring stands to the side, still filming the whole horrific incident with his phone.
They’re going to violate me right here behind McQueen’s, next to the garbage.
When he unzips his pants and pulls out his penis, something splinters inside me. Panic like I’ve never felt rips through me.
All my senses come roaring back. I start screaming, contorting, twisting, and thrashing. Even with his heavy weight on top of me, my legs kick and flail. Doing anything to buck him off.
I manage to break free of the twins’ hold on my shoulders. Fighting back with everything I’ve got, I start clawing and scratching at the tattooed man on top of me.
When my nails dig in and scrape across the length of his cheek, they tear through his flesh, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
He responds with another punch to my face.
This time, my vision blurs, going black and fuzzy. It’s the twilight that comes right as you’re about to pass out. I fight the darkness, trying to stay alert, but my awareness is fading, the world dissolving into a shapeless haze. He’s succeeded in rendering me too weak to fight back.
I feel a tear slip out of my eye and roll into my hair.
Then he disappears and his weight is gone.
Still fighting to stay conscious, I roll my head along the blacktop. He’s blurry, but I recognize him.
Darren.
He must’ve pulled him off me.
Darren and the tattooed man square off, standing face-to-face.
There’s so much pain. My head is pounding, my face throbbing. It feels and sounds like a swarm of angry wasps has taken up residence inside my skull. Adrenaline has me shaking so hard my teeth are rattling, and I can’t control it.
The tattooed man shoves his dick back in his pants and zips up. He points in my direction and spittle flies from his mouth as he screams something in Darren’s face. But the ringing and sound of blood rushing in my ears drowns out the words.
Darren’s expression is a mixture of fury and disgust.
More concerned with an enraged Darren, none of my attackers are paying attention to me anymore. The twins rush in to help their friend, making it three against one. Still filming, nose ring remains close to me.
All three converge on Darren. They come at him from different directions, trying to surround him. They lunge. Darren’s faster than his attackers but he’s outnumbered, and that terrifies me.
Darren knocks the tattooed man down with a single blow to the face. He doesn’t stay down long, snapping back onto his feet.
The three of them circle Darren, trying to split his focus. With experienced skill, Darren spins and moves, trying to keep them all in sight. When they rush again, he meets them head-on.
Then it’s a melee. Punches are thrown, but Darren fights back. His knee slams into ribs, stomachs, and groins. He throws jabs, uppercuts, and body shots. He smashes his elbow into the face of the man whose balls I wish I’d crushed, making his nose gush blood like a geyser.
One twin charges, driving his shoulder into Darren’s midsection and slamming him into the dumpster. I see Darren wince in pain. He shoves the man off, and comes back swinging, feigning left, then throwing a right in retaliation.
While Darren’s holding his own, I want to help him. But I’m so foggy and my whole body hurts. My head feels too heavy to lift. Even if I could get to my feet, I don’t know what I could do to assist.
After a fist to the face, blood drips from one of the twins’ nose, soaking his yellow shirt.
Tattooed man howls in pain when Darren twists his arm behind his back and yanks it up.
The other twin hits the pavement hard when Darren sweeps his legs out from under him.
But he rolls with the momentum and comes up swinging.
When the tattooed man rushes, Darren lands a brutal kick to his sternum. The force sends him flying backward, leaving him lying flat on his back.
Darren doesn’t stop the onslaught until the three of them no longer get back to their feet. Then he turns on the man who’s been filming. Instead of making the smart choice and running, his bizarre reaction is to throw his phone.
Darren grabs him by the front of his shirt and spins him, sending him crashing into the side of the dumpster. He smashes his fist into his face several times. When Darren lets go, nose ring crumples to the ground, lifeless.
Meanwhile, his phone skids along the asphalt, coming to a stop next to me. My fingers creep along the pavement until I can curl them around it.
Then Darren’s team is here. At the same time they arrive, the tattooed man staggers to his feet. He doesn’t even have time to get steady on his feet when Darren’s teammates surround all four of them, making sure they can’t escape.
Darren’s safe and the team has control of my attackers. Knowing he’s out of harm’s way, my heavy eyelids slide closed.
I don’t know how much time passes when gentle hands cup my face, turning my head away from the bodies littering the blacktop.
When my eyes open again, Darren’s concerned face comes into view.
His mouth is moving, but I can’t hear the words.
Everything sounds far away and distorted, like I’m underwater.
I have to read his lips. “Tallahassee. Just breathe, baby. I’ve got you.”