20. Melody
MELODY
Riptide’s room is a lot like Mad Dog’s, but he has a window that looks out over the back side of the compound. The gray bunker shape of the Pit huddles in a dark corner. I spent a night in that cell, but now one of the men who broke into my house is there instead. A little weird.
Beyond the walls, the city spreads as far as I can see. I don’t know anyone out there. Home feels so small and distant now, and it doesn’t even feel safe anymore.
The crack of a gunshot has me jumping away from the glass.
I move to the side and look out. There’s a freaking shooting range down there!
A couple of guys have just set up and started putting bullets in some targets at the other end.
Are they allowed to do that inside city limits?
I guess the cops aren’t exactly going to storm the gates to give them a fine for it.
The first few shots make me twitch, but then it becomes another element of the background noise of the club.
I never realized how normal my life actually was until I ended up here.
Another difference between their rooms is that Riptide didn’t bother with a kitchen table, using the area for more lounge space instead.
He has a bigger couch, a beaten-up coffee table, and a huge TV mounted on the wall.
He and Rebel are currently messing with cables, trying to get the game working.
“I’ve got stuff in the fridge, help yourself,” Riptide calls.
Feeling nosy, I poke through his cabinets, just getting to know him. It doesn’t look like he cooks much. “Are all the rooms this sad?” I ask, poking through canned food and instant noodles.
“Sad?” Riptide looks up. “What do you mean?”
“Your room looks like you went out onto the street and scavenged from a thrift shop.”
He grins. “I did. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, actually. But thrift shops have curtains and decorations, too, you know.”
“Don’t need ‘em.” Riptide pulls his hair loose, running his fingers through the long strands. “I guess it never really occurred to me.”
Men.
“Hah!” Rebel shouts as the screen flashes to life. “Got it.”
I plop onto the couch next to Mad Dog, leaning my head on his shoulder. “What’re we playing?”
“Dirt Derby 2030, what else?” Riptide asks with a grin. “Only the best motorcycle racing game on the market.”
“I’ll try a round, but I’m probably not going to be any good at it,” I admit.
Famous last words.
An hour later I’m screaming at the top of my lungs as Rebel blasts me with oil, sending me off into the trees. “What was that!? Come oooon!”
“Wah wah. Get good, loser,” he teases, looking back over his shoulder for a second to send me a wink. “Oh! What the hell!” A well-timed rocket knocks him completely off the track.
Mad Dog’s grin is so wide I bet his face hurts. “Get good.”
Riptide, meanwhile, has lapped us twice.
Winning is no longer an option, so I switch tactics to just being as absolutely annoying as possible. It takes them a few laps to notice, but eventually the three of them put down their controllers and look at me.
“What?”
Riptide stands up first. Something about the look in his eye triggers an instinctual response. I leap to my feet and back away from the couch.
Mad Dog and Rebel take notice. They turn, watching.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Riptide pounces. He swings me off my feet and dumps me right onto the bed, pinning me to the mattress. Blue, blue eyes look down into mine. “You’re a little troublemaker, you know that?”
“Me? Never.”
“Fuck, you have a pretty smile,” he says, reaching out and stroking the back of his fingers over my cheek and down to my neck. “The bruising is getting better.”
I put my hand over where I know there’s a yellowing mark. “More colorful at least.”
Rebel sits down on the bed next to us. “By the time you can leave, you won’t even notice it anymore.”
By the time I leave.
I want to leave. I do, right? I’m not sure anymore. I don’t want to be trapped in here forever, but the idea of leaving and never coming back feels like ripping my arm off.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Rebel asks. He puts his hand on my hip.
“Can we help?” Mad Dog asks. “Point us at whoever the problem is and we’ll fucking break him.”
I shake my head. “N-no. It’s not that. I’m fine. I just—” I can’t even find the words.
“Mel, you’re safe. You’ve got us with you, and we’re gonna make sure nothing happens to you, okay? We’re on your side.” Rebel’s hand gives me a squeeze, and it fills me with comfort.
Gripping Riptide’s T-shirt, I cling to him like he might just float away if I don’t. But I nod. “I know.”
“But do you believe it?” Mad Dog sits on the opposite side from Rebel.
It’s hard to mourn losing something when it’s sitting right in front of you. The three of them are such unlikely protectors. There are times when I can feel the violence inside them, and times when I’ve seen it, but they’ve never turned it on me, even when they thought I had betrayed them.
I know they aren’t mine forever, but they’re mine for now. I bet even a year from now, I could call them in the middle of the night and they’d come. I didn’t know how much I missed having that until I got it back.
“You guys have been so amazing. I’m going to miss you when it’s over,” I admit.
Rebel cocks his head. His eyes are so dark, nearly black, but when I look, I can see the shades of rich brown inside. “Why do you have to go anywhere?”
“I don’t know. When the drama is over, I’ll be all that’s left, and I’m just me. A little small, a little na?ve, always a little something, and never enough for anyone to stick around.” God, that sounds pathetic. “Sorry, I’m fine. Maybe we can play something else.” I try to get up.
Riptide doesn’t let me. “Fuck that.”
He kisses me, gently at first, soft pecks on my lips until I open up to him, his short beard tickling my cheeks.
Even in my rattled state, it feels nice.
Comforting. Maybe I just like the attention, but he seems more than willing to give it to me.
It doesn’t take long before we’re making out properly, him pulling me up on my knees so I can wrap my arms around his strong neck.
His tongue finds mine and I close my eyes so I can just feel.
Mad Dog’s hand cups my ass. “Is this a private party?”
“Three is better than two. And four is even better than three.” Riptide’s soft growl is dripping with a promise that has my core heating up like he just flicked a switch. “Is that still private enough?”
I wet my lips, still feeling the press of Riptide’s mouth. The sudden burst of loneliness isn’t gone, but it feels a lot more distant now. Instead of being in the room with me, it’s now outside the house, probably looking for a way in, but the guys are helping me lock the door.
And offering to help me forget for a while
I press my ass back into Mad Dog’s hands and reach for Rebel, my hand landing on his narrow hip.
“I think four sounds pretty good right now.”
Rebel leans in again, a confident smirk on his lips. “That was the answer I was hoping for.”
His lips taste just as sweet as last time.