AN: Hey everyone thank you for being so patient with me. I've been student teaching all semester and I am just finishing up. I hope to be able to write and update more often now, so we shall see. Anyway, this chapter might actually be considered M for language and implied content, but I just got so into writing it I couldn't stop. Enjoy!
Awkward. That is quite possibly the best word to use for the situation I found myself in. Glancing at Logan's and John's reflections in the shop mirror in front of me told me they were feeling the exact same way. What a nightmare. I tried telling them, I could go shopping for something to wear all on my own, but they had insisted on escorting me. We had no idea where Stryker or Creed were, and neither wanted to take the chance of me getting cornered on my own.
So here we were, me modeling different outfits for the salesgirl, John, and Logan. And truly, the only one seemed to be having any fun was the salesgirl whose name happened to be Britt with a star dotting the "i." Seriously…people do that apparently.
"Oh wow! Yellow is totally your color," she cried clapping her hands together. I tried to smile at her enthusiasm, but really, who gets excited over a color. The last time I got excited over a color, it was when I eleven and was able to wash the blood out of a pair of gloves. I could tell Logan was getting just as irritated as I was; unfortunately, he wasn't nearly as good at hiding his repulsion for the girl.
"So is that what we're buying?" John asked standing up for the third time. Immediately, I knew the answer.
"What?" Britt asked with a giggle. "Of course not! We've only just chosen her color scheme. Now we'll pick out the perfect top and some matching skinnies." She turned to me then. "You are going to look so hot, I promise!" I glanced back at my friends and shrugged. This was their fault. I wanted to go to Walmart…assholes.
An hour and a half and nine outfits later, Britt finally deemed me "totally hot." And we were released from the store. As I waited for John to pay, I gazed at my reflection in wonder. Never in a million years would I have ever expected to wear something so ridiculous and so obviously not me. I had been transformed into an actual girl. From the white camisole barely covered by a button down yellow blouse tied beneath my chest, to the cutoff denim mini skirt. From the white head band to the cowboy boots on my feet…I looked nothing like myself.
As we left the store, John started whistling and I immediately punched in in the face. "What the fuck!" he cried, as Logan laughed out loud. I ignored his cry of pain and merely walked ahead, not wanting to deal with his wisecracks. Yes I looked ridiculous, sure I probably looked completely out of place, but I was not going to deal with any stupid comments from these two of all people.
"Nadia, come back!" Logan shouted, but I merely picked up speed and ran, wanting to get away from whatever he had to say. Finally I reached the city square and lost myself among the throngs of people beginning to emerge for the renowned nightlife of New Orleans. I worked my way to the center fountain and set myself down, taking a deep breath. Again, I couldn't help but think I was way out of my depth. Maybe we should just walk up to the guy, knock him out, and then bring him back to our place to talk.
Suddenly, I heard Logan's and John's voices shouting over the crowd for me. Not wanting to talk to them at that moment, I stood and made my way to the nearest open door and found myself entering what seemed to be some sort of bar/casino/pool hall. I choked on the smoke hanging in the air and moved toward the bar. Sitting down, I asked for a water and stared pointedly at the glass before me. I probably needed to work on my attitude. Why did every little thing have to upset me to the point of me going off alone to wallow over my own pathetic life? It really wasn't fair to John and Logan, especially when they both still cared for me so much.
As I debated returning to my friends to apologize, however, I felt hot breath on my ear and I jumped. Turning to face the intruder, I rolled my eyes at the sight of three large men leering down at me. I won't lie, they were reasonably attractive, but I could immediately tell what sort of people I was dealing with. Typical college assholes on some sort of vacation, using mommy and daddy's money to torment anyone who crossed their paths. Marveleous.
"Hey there Sweetheart, how 'bout some shots on us?" the first asked placing a hand on my leg. I stared pointedly at the spot where I was being accosted. The other two settled in around me and I could feel the bartender's eyes on me. How sweet. He wanted to make sure I was okay.
"Please remove your hand and no thanks," I replied forcefully. I was in no mood to deal with bullshit like that. Not when I was already feeling a little pissed off. My new friends didn't seem to get the message though. Another of the men started touching my shoulders as the third sat down next to me.
"Awww come on. We're just looking for a good time like you, Baby," Man 3 replied. I raised my eyebrows and took him in. His curly brown hair just made it to his ears and his bright blue eyes were leering all over my form. But it wasn't his classic good looks that kept my attention. My eyes glanced down toward his lap to see that yes, he was indeed looking for a good time and apparently thought he'd found one in me. Shoving Man 2's hands from my shoulders, and Man 1's hand from its precarious position in my lap, I stood and started moving toward the nearest exit I could spot.
Immediately I realized my error as I stepped not into the main square, but into the alley behind the bar. Turning to return the way I'd come, I was halted at the sight of my three new friends.
"Look at this Trey, she found us a more private venue," Man 2 called out. Trey laughed and stepped toward me.
"Hey don't take it all, Trey!" called Man 1. "Don't tire her out before Bryce and me have a shot at that ass." I cringed at the way they spoke about me.
"Bryce and I, dumbass," I said, my voice rising slightly, hoping I could joke the situation away. Where the Hell were John and Logan?
"So you got a mouth on you yeah?" Trey asked, his eyes glinting under the lamplight. "Maybe we should teach you what to do with those pretty little lips…" Was no one seeing this? Tired of hearing these three guys talk about me and tired of waiting for someone to see, I tried running past them toward the square. No such luck.
"Oh you're not going anywhere," the unnamed third man whispered, groping at me. I'm not really sure if I reacted in a manner appropriate for the situation, but as soon as the tool in the stupid rugby tee pulled me to him, I felt a rush I hadn't felt since I had left Stryker's team. I reacted in the manner in which I was trained: violently.
Just as he placed on hand on my chest, I reached up and snapped his thumb. The cry of pain that erupted from his mouth brought a smile of satisfaction to my face, but I refused to stop there. I had been someone's plaything before, and I wasn't about to become one again.
Grabbing his broken thumb, I wheeled around to face my attacker. I honestly don't know if he and his friends realized the can of worms they opened when they decided I was going to be their party girl for the night, but I didn't care. With my control over his hand, I smashed his own fist, up into his nose, while simultaneously tripping him with my foot.
Watching the man fall before me, I paused to take in what I had done. Of course the pause was not to my advantage, for that's when the one called Bryce grabbed my hair and flung me to the ground. I scrambled and let lose a high kick from my positions straight into his stomach. Standing up, I gave a cough, pleased with my performance.
That's when I remembered, I was not being accosted by two men…but by three. I whipped myself around, but not before Trey punched me in the stomach, sending me flying backward. Crumpling to the ground, I cried out, but little breath remained in my lungs. Unable to think clearly through the pain, I barely noticed as he dragged me farther into the alley where his friends were recovering from my attacks. I didn't need the bright lights from the square to notice the rage mixed with lust on their faces.
I tried pulling away, but for all my agility and speed, I had all the strength of a ten year old. I had nothing on these three athletes surrounding me. "I don't think so," he laughed. "Not after all that." He pushed me forward and I skidded on the dirty cement; gravel, and broken glass becoming embedded in my hands. With little other choice at that point, I attempted crawling away. Smack!
The unnamed man's hand collided with my face and I was sent sprawling once more. God, it had been awhile since I had been hit. It really hurt…I must have been out of practice. But spitting the blood from my mouth, I muttered the words I had never before dared to say to Stryker. "Fuck you."
I swear, you could have cut the silence that followed with a knife. In those few moments of peace, I wondered once more where John and Logan were. I smiled. They were right; I shouldn't off on my own…ever.
Suddenly I was pulled to my feet and could feel myself being shoved front side first into the wall. As the other two held my arms still, Trey whispered in my ear, while lightly running a finger down my back, "No sweetheart…fuck you." And that's when the air around me exploded in a flash of purple.