Anna Goode meets Noah in the worst of circumstances. She knows she should keep away from him, that seeing him courts danger for them both, but she can't stop herself.
Warnings: Violence and language.
Buy me a coffee?
(I’m open to critiques of color and composition on this image. Also, if you try to read the story on my website, let me know if the colors there make it difficult.)
Anna Goode meets Noah in the worst of circumstances. She knows she should keep away from him, that seeing him courts danger for them both, but she can’t stop herself.
Warnings: Violence and language.
Buy me a coffee?
Excerpt
Anna Margaretta Goode strode toward the old sports equipment shed, her short heels sinking into the soft post-rainstorm grass. When she couldn’t find her boyfriend, she knew to look for him here. He and his friends from the lacrosse team liked to hang out in there, pretending they were tough and disreputable. It smelled like old feet, but they didn’t seem to mind.
She slogged up to the door and pounded her fist against it. “Miles! Miles you jerk, I’ve been waiting thirty minutes on your sorry butt! The buses are gone, the humidity is destroying my hair, and I want to go the hell home!”
Miles opened the door a crack. She heard his teammate Abel’s voice from the room behind him: “Dude, put a leash on your girlfriend.”
“This isn’t a good time, baby,” said Miles.
Anna glared up at him. “When is a good time? When you say so? It’s five-thirty, practice is well over, and all my other ride options are gone. I’ve ruined my shoes coming out here because you decided I’m not as important as, what, smoking pot?” She planted a hand in the middle of his chest, gave a good hard shove, and squeezed in the doorway as he took a surprised step back.
“Goddammit, Miles, I told you to leash the bitch.”
Anna stopped cold at the sight of a swarthy young man tied and gagged with duct tape. He hung from a pull-up bar by his bound hands, face bruised and bloody.
And she went off. In Spanish, because she knew none of them spoke Spanish and it always pissed Abel off to no end. Anna was fluent thanks to her Mexican mother, and she used it to dress the boys up and down for being stupid violent assholes.
She targeted most of it at Abel, because she knew the others were just followers. This insane idea was his, no question.
He argued back some, mostly threats about gagging her and orders for Miles to shut her up. Miles did take her by the shoulders and try to tug her away to calm her down, but it was too gentle to be effective.
When she ran out of air, she switched to English and snapped viciously, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Abel rolled his eyes in disgust.
She turned to Rich and Jason, who sat by the window flexing their damaged knuckles. The brothers grinned sheepishly, and the expression made them look even more alike than usual. “Just welcoming the new kid. He’s a transfer from Summit.”
Abel gave their captive a shove. “Bastard thinks he’s better than us. We’re teaching him a lesson.”
Anna turned on Miles. “You’re going to get expelled if you keep letting him talk you into crap like this.”
Abel rolled his eyes. “Better hide your balls, Miles, before she cuts them off.”
Anna turned and snapped, “That’s funny, coming from a guy without any.”
Abel grabbed his crotch. “You wanna check?”
Miles slid his arms around Anna’s waist. “Calm down, baby, he’s just messing with you.”
She swatted his arms away. “You don’t get to touch me while I’m mad at you.”
“What did I do?”
“Did you forget about taking me home? Or is beating the crap out of some stranger more satisfying than having a girlfriend, because I swear to God . . .”
“Okay, I’m sorry already! Jeez.” Miles hunched his shoulders up around his ears.
Abel made a face. “Is there any chance you two can take this outside before my balls shrivel up from all this bitching?”
Anna tossed him a glare. “Not a snowball’s in hell.”
Abel let his head fall back. “I’m going to the vending machine. Don’t touch anything ‘til I get back. You guys coming?” The brothers followed him out, leaving Anna and Miles alone in the shed.
More or less.
Anna ignored their duct-taped audience and jabbed a fingernail into Miles’s chest. “You are going to go get your car, and you are going to bring it out here.”
“That’s against school rules, Anna. It’ll mess up the grass.”
She jabbed him harder. “So is everything you’ve ever done in this shed, so you are going to get your freaking car, bring it out, and pick me up because there is no way in hell I’m walking all the way back to the parking lot in heels.”
Miles hesitated, but she flung her arm up and pointed toward the door. “Go.”
With a scowl, he moved. “I’m going, I’m going. God, you’ve gotten bitchy.”
As the door shut behind him, she turned, pulled a lipstick out of her purse, and uncapped it. She deftly twisted the tube until a small blade appeared. Anna sliced through the duct tape on the boy’s feet, then went to work on his hands. When he dropped to the floor and rubbed his wrists, she put the knife away and crumpled the duct tape into a ball. “Use the window. Head straight for the trees. They won’t be able to see you from the vending machines.” She nodded toward a large window in the back of the shed.
The boy ripped the tape off his mouth and spat blood onto the floor. He was taller than her and had shoulder-length dark hair, but she couldn’t tell much about his face with all the bruising. He rubbed gingerly at his ribs and his shirt hiked up enough to show a patchwork of fresh bruises across his abdomen and sides.
She frowned. “You can run, right? Nothing broken?”
“I can run.”
“Then get out of here.”
He hesitated. “What about you?”
“They won’t hurt me.” Probably.
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll be fine. Go.” With the same gesture she’d used on Miles, she pointed at the window.
He went.
Anna exited the the shed by the door and shut it behind her before Abel and the other two started back from the vending machines under the football stands.
“What are you doing out here?” Abel asked when they reached her. He had a cold drink in one hand and shoved the shed door open with the other.
“Waiting for Miles.”
“Where—” Abel paused, halfway inside the shed, then let out a vicious curse. He stepped back and grabbed Anna’s arm hard enough to make her gasp. “Where is he?”
“Getting his truck. He’s going to pick me up.”
Abel stared at her a second. “Not Miles, you stupid bitch. The guy that was there.” On the last word, he yanked her into the shed, nearly pulling her off her feet, and angled her toward the pull-up bar.
She snarled something in Spanish, pulling at her arm, and he twisted it so hard that she gasped and froze. She could have sworn the bone creaked.
“Did you let him go?!”
She willed herself to believe that the feeling in her stomach was fury and not terror. She dredged every ounce of bravado in her body, dragging it up from her toes to stare Abel straight in the eye. “Don’t try and blame your weak knots on me, jackass. Now let me go.” She tried to keep the pleading out of her voice when she added, “You know Miles doesn’t like you to touch me.”
Abel breathed heavily for a moment, pupils contracted, before he released her.
She raised her chin and held her injured arm but refused to examine it even though the pain made her want to cry.
Abel turned to Rich and Jason. “We have to find him. Come on.”
She watched them round the shed to look for footprints, which were easy to find in the soft post-rain grass. She watched them through the open window as they raced toward the trees in the distance. If she hadn’t cut the boy free, how badly would they have hurt him? Would they even have known when to stop?
Would they have refused if Abel decided to hurt Anna instead of the boy from Summit?
She doubted it.
Anna examined the angry red handprint on her arm and silently prayed the Summit boy had gotten enough of a head start. Otherwise, he was screwed.
