Chapter Nine

Walking down New York's streets was like a nightmare wherever he turned. A rage of emotions was running through him: anger, hurt, pain, and confusion. Fox, being one who had trouble spilling his heart to someone and expressing his innermost feelings, kept them locked inside. He finally made his way back to his apartment where Julie wasn't located. He slept through the afternoon, hoping to escape from his problems, but woke up around six in the evening with the problems still fresh in his mind.

"Gotta get out of this place," said Fox to himself as he threw on some jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt. His muscular arms bulged through the sleeves of the gray shirt and his jeans fit him perfectly in all the right places. He rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, grabbed his wallet, and spilled back on to the New York streets once more. He slothfully called a cab and made his way to a bar. But not just any bar; a bar he always seemed to make his way to no matter what the occasion…no matter what his mood. He figured that if the place was there for celebrating, then he could at least go and attempt to have a good time.

Following his arrival, he walked up to the bar and placed his order – alcohol no less. He swore to himself that he would only have one drink, but one turned into three and three turned into six. There was no stopping them as they came to the entrance of his mouth. It made its way through his lips; sliding down his throat. When the beer settled in his stomach, a warm feeling overcame him and he felt that this substance was exactly the answer to all his problems.

"Hey. What's wrong with you tonight, dude?" Asked a voice that was clearly in front of Fox. He looked up, seeing a large man with a scruffy beard.

"Oh, you know – a bunch of fked up sht. You don't even want to know." Fox's words spilled out of his mouth slowly in a slur. He moved his left hand while he spoke, holding the cup in his right.

As Fox talked gibberish to the bar tender – in walked Mrs. Brown-eyed Beauty herself. Tonight, Theresa was wearing a burgundy halter-top with dark, flared jeans. Her shimmering brown hair was curled as it was earlier, but it was pulled half up and half down. Her lips were glossy pink and her neck bared a beautiful scarlet heart necklace. She was most definitely dazzling, so dazzling that when she entered with Clarissa and a few other girls, many men turned their heads to look at her. Theresa, unaware of their motions, laughed carelessly with her friends as they grabbed a table and sat.

Fox, still drinking brainlessly at the bar, noticed a familiar face – Bruce Moore. He, too, was downing liquor in large gulps. Rage was the only emotion that was inside of him when he beheld that scum's face. He clenched his fists and rose off of his bar stool.

"You two-faced son of a bitch," grumbled Fox as he moved closer. Unable to control himself, he kicked Bruce's barstool, causing Bruce to tumble onto the floor. Stricken by the fall, he climbed slowly off the floor and threw a hard punch in the direction of Fox's face. Fortunately for Bruce, the punch hit Fox on the lip; causing blood to trickle down his chin.

"You keep your filthy rich hands off of me, man. Julie never loved you, alright? I can't help it that I'm irresistible," said Bruce as he laughed. "Doesn't it suck that no one wants your sorry ass? Hahahah. I can't help but laugh. You're at the bottom, man."

Bruce's words stung as Fox's temper got the best of him. He began punching Bruce right and left. Before they both knew it, the bartender began pushing them apart and dragging Fox in the opposite direction of his opponent. Fox's ruthless glare seemed to burn right through Bruce as he was being dragged away.

"Now. You sit over here and behave yourself," said the bartender, sitting Fox on a stool distant from where Bruce was located.

"What's going on?" asked one of Theresa's friends.

"Probably two losers fighting over beer," said another.

"I'll go see." Theresa moved from her table to the bar that was about 20 feet away from her. Her heels clicked the floor as she stopped right behind him. "Fox!" yelled Theresa over the singing in the background. The bar was smoky and somewhat dark.

"Oh, hey…beautiful," responded Fox, drunkenly, "I…I…remember you."

"Fox, you're hurt! What's wrong?" asked Theresa, concerned.

"Oh, lots…lots…lots of sht."

"Fox…"

"You know what? I don…need anyone…okay?"

His tall athletic body attempted to stand up and walk away, but instead of doing so, he fell flat on his bottom.

"Oh, Fox. Come here…" Theresa said as she helped him up.

"But I don't need help!" yelled Fox angrily.

"Yes you do, damnit! You're coming with me."

She helped Fox's tall figure up as she slung his arm around her shoulders and helped him walk. Fox heavily leaned against her. Theresa found it hard to walk as they made their way across the floor.

"Hey, girls. I gotta go. C-ya later, alright?"

"Theresa, who's that?" they all asked off key as they stared at the handsome stranger in Theresa's arms.

"Oh, this is Fox. He helped out with my fashion show. Fox these are my girls – Amber, Misty, Christina, and you know Clarissa."

"Hell…o," said Fox in an odd tone of voice as he was trying to stay awake.

"Reese! I wanted you to meet my guy friend," replied one of Theresa's friends as she winked.

"Aww. Well, tell him I'm sorry, but I'll have to meet them some other time. Sorry, girls. Have fun."

As soon as Theresa and Fox had left their presence, they began talking about "Fox." Sure, he helped Theresa with her fashion show, but exactly who was he? A few girls noted that he was pretty good looking, but they were curious about exactly who he was. They questioned the red head, Clarissa, at their table.

"Clarissa, who is this guy? He looks like bad news if you ask me."

"His name is Nicholas Foxworth Crane. From what I hear, he's a great businessman."

"A businessman, huh? Damn he's fine. Don't you agree ladies?"

"Hell yeah," said two girls at once.

"Don't get too excited. He's taken by some woman named Julie," replied Clarissa.

In the cab, Fox was stretched out on the small seat, sleeping. His knees were bent and his size thirteen feet were inactive on the seat. His head was resting on Theresa's lap as she stared at him. His features were amazing and Theresa, not once, could bring herself to look away. Not sure of where his apartment was located, the vehicle drove to hers. When they arrived, Theresa shook Fox, awakening him.

"Fox? … Fox?"

"Wha…?"

"We're here."

Theresa swung her attractive legs out of the cab and walked around to the other door. Somehow, with great difficulty, helping Fox out of the automobile. The couple managed to end up in the same position as before. Before they reached the door, Fox lost his balance and fell upon Theresa. Theresa's small, petite body fell over under the weight, causing the two to lie on top of each other on the sidewalk.

"Help," Theresa managed to murmur with Fox cutting off her oxygen supply. After a few minutes, Theresa was able to roll him over as she squatted next to Nicholas.

"Fox! Wake up!" yelled Theresa, shaking his shoulders energetically. When he wouldn't respond, Theresa slapped his face and he woke with a start. His eyes were as round as saucers as he spoke,

"Why'd you do that for!"

Without answering his question, she lifted him up onto his feet, entered the building, and helped him to the elevator. With many trips, slips, and stumbling, they finally made it to Theresa's room. She pulled him to her bed and pushed him down upon it. Theresa found a thin blanket along with a wastebasket and covered him before placing the basket beside the bed. She left the room shortly after and headed to the living room. Here, she fell helplessly into slumber on the couch and didn't awake until the next morning.

When the fashion designer had awakened, she made her way to the kitchen and fixed breakfast for herself; knowing that Fox wouldn't be eating just yet.

"Where the hell am I?" said a voice that entered into Theresa's ears.

Theresa hurriedly walked into her bedroom, showing herself as Fox studied her.

Fox groaned in pain before asking, "Theresa?"

"Fox, how do you feel?"

"Horrible, where's the bathroom?"

Theresa pointed him in the direction as she watched Fox walk hurriedly into it. She heard a sound she didn't want to hear and the toilet flushed shortly after. After a while of bowing to the porcelain god, Fox walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. Theresa turned with a start.

"Oh, Fox. Your lip is swollen. Are you okay?"

"No. I'm sore as hell."

"Here, let me get you an ice-pack." Theresa was still in her pajamas as she searched through the fridge and found the pack. Before placing the pack on his lip, she rubbed the sore with her thumb.

Fox broke the tiny moment of silence and asked, "What am I doing here?"

"Well, I brought you here. Don't you remember last night? At the bar?"

"Well yeah I remember the bar. But it's the YOU part I don't remember."

Theresa explained everything to him, from his fight with Bruce to the trip to her apartment. Fox laughed as Theresa explained how hard it was to get him into her apartment.

"I swear you were like a big sack of potatoes. You even fell on top of me once," chuckled Theresa.

"Yeah. Sorry about that," Fox responded.

"What I want to know is," said Theresa "Is why you were fighting with this guy."

When Theresa mentioned this fight, images of Julie under Bruce made him sick to his stomach. Instead of anger, sadness filled his eyes and Theresa could see it.

"It was nothing," responded Fox quietly. He was uncertain about whether he should spill to Theresa, and was more uncertain about whether Theresa wanted to hear his problems. Fox was having enough trouble finding the words, but telling them to Theresa was another thing entirely.

"Now you think I'm stupid enough to believe that? I can see hurt in your eyes, Fox. What's wrong? You can trust me, you know? It's the least I can do..after everything you've done for me."

"No, you don't wanna hear my problems," replied Fox, turning so his side faced Theresa.

"YES. I DO," said Theresa sympathetically, grabbing his hand in a squeeze. "What's up?"

He looked down at her hand laced through his; and feeling touched by Theresa's gesture, slowly opened up to her. "Okay, I'm sorry if this sounds weird, but all my life I searched for love. Ok, yeah, I know. I'm a guy. I shouldn't be doing that kinda thing, right? But anyway…I thought I finally found that love in Julie. God I loved her..but she --- she betrayed me."

"Oh, Fox," replied Theresa. She rubbed her thumb over the back of Fox's hand as she looked at him. Unsure if she should ask this question, she spoke softly. "How did she betray you?"

"Haven't you put the pieces together yet? She slept with that backstabbing bastard at the bar…excuse my language."

"You say whatever you want, I don't care. I can't believe she had the nerve to do something like that."

"Hard telling how long it's been going on. I mean..what's wrong with me? Is something wrong with me? Is that why she did it?" Confusion, hurt, and anger flashed in his eyes.

"Fox. There is nothing wrong with you, do you understand me?" Theresa turned his head to face her. "You are wonderful. And as for Julie, well..I hate to say it, but..she doesn't deserve you."

"You mean that?"

The twosome were facing each other as Theresa whispered, "Hell, yeah I mean it."

Fox's face had hurt written all over it as he embraced Theresa in a hug. Theresa squeezed Fox so tight, trying with everything she had to help him carry the pain.

"Thank you, Theresa."

"If you ever need me at all, I'm here, okay? I'm here."