Clash (16 page)

Taking the seat next to him, I slid my mittens off. “Why are you here, Tony?” I asked, because he had yet to mention it and Tony and I had only been friends by association of Jude. We didn’t have the relationship that would justify him driving five hours to visit me.

His face dropped. My stomach followed.

“Oh, my god,” I breathed. “Is Jude all right?” My mind, of course, started firing off a list of things that might have happened to him.

“What do you think?” he asked, eyeing me.

“Don’t play with me, Tony,” I warned, my heart starting to slow when I realized what Tony was getting at. Life and limb wise, Jude was fine. Heart and soul wise, he was a bloody mess, right along with me.

“In terms of your face dropping reaction, yeah, he’s fine. No broken bones, no dangling limbs, no fast spreading tumors.”

I waited for my pulse to return to normal. “So what’s up?”

Looking at the floor, Tony leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. His foot was tapping the floor like a piston on speed.

“I heard about what happened with Adriana,” he began, causing me to flinch. I’d gone three weeks without hearing that name and trying not to think about it. Hearing it now slammed me up against a wall.

“I heard Jude’s story, he told me your story, and lord knows I had to hear Adriana bragging about how she’s bedded the quarterback with a girlfriend.”

I was wishing I hadn’t invited Tony inside.

“Anyways, I didn’t think much of it after the drama died down a bit. I believed Jude because he’s my boy, but even I have to admit I had my doubts about the whole ‘no way in hell would I or did I screw Adriana Vix’ testimony,” he said, his eyes moving around the room. “I mean, she’s Adriana Vix. Adriana. Vix.”

“I get it, Tony,” I interrupted, not in the mood for him to get a hard on while he fantasized about her in front of me. “What’s your point?”

Shaking his head, he glanced over at me. “A couple nights ago, I was with my Spirit Sister being”‌—‌his face lined as he contemplated‌—‌”
serviced,
and she might have been a tad tipsy and ran her mouth a bit more than Adriana would have liked.”

That was one sentence that I couldn’t and didn’t want to wrap my mind around. So I looked at Tony and waited.

“My Spirit Sister’s Payton Presley,” he explained, which didn’t explain anything to me. “She and Adriana are, like, best friends. At least as much as girls like those can have best friends. It’s more like ‘you’re my favorite enemy, so I’ll drive the dagger into your back softly when you turn around.’ That kind of thing.”

None of this was coming around to Jude and me.

“And?” I tried not to sound irritated.

“So Payton was running her mouth in bed about how at least she didn’t have to stage a screw with her football player.”

My heartbeat picked up pace again.

“I nonchalantly pressed her for more details and apparently Adriana told her everything that happened. About Jude storming into the house after your guys’ fight, shutting himself in his room with a bottle of tequila. And so, don’t hate me,” he said, looking over at me like he was a bit scared of me. He had me by a hundred and fifty pounds and he looked like he wanted to feint away from me, “but I might have been the one to mention you and Jude’s fight to Adriana that night. Jude had opened up to me about what had happened, not much‌—‌he hadn’t wanted to talk much‌—‌but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal telling her when she showed up late that night.”

Everything was coming together now. And the realization of what had happened was causing me to feel all sorts of things.

“Payton told me Adriana guessed that you would eventually come walking through that front door, so she camped out in Jude’s room, stripping him down while he snoozed in a tequila stupor, hung out in a bathrobe in front of the window until you pulled up,” Tony sighed, leaning back into the chair and staring at the ceiling, “and you know the rest.”

Words failed me. My heart beat so hard it was echoing through me. There were so many things I needed to say and I needed to do. Jude had been right.

He hadn’t slept with her. He’d told me it didn’t matter how drunk he got, he never would want anyone but me. Or at least hadn’t at the time. Who knows what had changed in him during those weeks apart?

I had about a hundred questions of clarification for Tony, and about a million things I wanted to say, but only two words were on the tip of my tongue.

“That. Bitch.”

Tony nodded. “Not exactly breaking news there, Lucy.” Popping to a stand, he looked down at me. “I know this is none of my business, and I’m gonna catch a shitload of heat from the cheerleaders if they find out I ratted one of their own, but I don’t care. I like Jude. I like you. He
loves
you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You deserve to know the truth.”

I had the truth for weeks now, and I’d refused to let it take root.

“Sorry to throw this all on you, Lucy. I know you wanted your space and time and everything, but I couldn’t not tell you.”

“Does Jude know you’re here?” I asked, contemplating my next move.

“Nope,” he said, giving me a sheepish smile. “And he’d probably kick my ass if he did know.”

I nodded. He patted my leg before heading towards the door. “I gotta get back. We’re throwing a huge bash at the place tonight and someone’s got to tap the kegs.”

“Tony?” I called after him.

Stopping, he turned around.

“Thank you.”

“What can I say?” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I might never find something as special as what you guys have together, but I sure as hell am not going to let you guys throw it all away without a fight.”

Is that what everyone thought I’d done? Thrown Jude’s and my relationship away? That’s the farthest thing away from how I would have described it. If anything, I carried it with me everywhere I went.

“Talk to ya later, Lucy,” he said, waving before throwing the door open and leaping down the stairs.

Later wasn’t going to be all that far off, I decided.

Going with my gut, letting it dictate something that was rash and every shade of irresponsible, I burst out of my seat and was bouncing down the front stairs of the dorm as Tony’s truck peeled out of the parking lot.

I hopped into my car, heading out of the parking lot with only one person’s face on my mind as I headed north.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A double cappuccino, one pit stop, and a half a tank of gas later, I was pulling onto the street Jude’s house was on. The street was already brimming with cars, but I didn’t let that stop me. I had a one track mind and now that I was close to putting that track into action, I rolled up in front of the house, put the car in park, and left it in the middle of the street. Jude’s truck was back in the driveway, proving if mine got towed, I could get it back somehow.

Bounding across the yard and up the stairs, I let myself in. It didn’t sting as bad as I’d thought it would, being here after weeks of separation, but I knew that had everything to do with the adrenaline firing to life right now. I had a message to deliver and I wasn’t leaving here until it’d been heard.

Weaving through the room crammed with bodies, I slid out of my coat and dropped it on the closest piece of furniture. My hat and mittens followed. I recognized a few faces in the crowd, but most were strangers whose eyes fell on me, likely wondering what was the reason for the scalding expression on my face.

Making my way to the end of the room where the fireplace was, I saw Jude. He was sitting on the couch, alone, a full cup of beer in his hand, just staring into the fireplace where no fire burned. His gray beanie was back on, sitting low on his forehead.

My stomach burned, seeing him like this. I wanted to go and wrap my arms around him until I was assured that beneath the statue sitting in front of me was the man I loved.

But that would have to wait.

I’d come here looking for someone else.

I’d driven five hours to find that bitch Adriana Vix and give her a piece of my mind‌—‌my fist doing the giving.

I didn’t have to guess who was in the center of the circle of guys over by the dining room table. A fresh burst of adrenaline shot through me as I marched across the room. Shouldering and shoving my way through the grouping of guys, I squared myself in front of Adriana.

For one second she looked surprised to see me, then her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, looking put out I was taking up her space.

“What?” she said, bobbing her neck to the side.

I grinned. She shouldn’t have come at me with words when I was way past words. My arm was already swinging back when her eyes widened, realizing I wasn’t in the “talking” mood.

My fist clocked her across the cheek, throwing her back into the crowd of shock faced guys.

“That’s what!” I said, shaking my hand. Those cheekbones of hers were sharp, but damn if it wasn’t worth it. “Bitch!” I tacked on, glowering at her.

Adjusting herself, she shoved away the guys fussing over her. Those green eyes of hers swirled black.

“You’re going to pay for that,” she seethed, her fists clenching. “That’s gonna leave a bruise.”

Without so much as a second thought, my other arm shot across my body, landing on the other side of her face. “There!” I shouted, shaking that hand too. “There’s another so they’ll match.”

Adriana’s bronze skin flashed red right before she lunged at me, her fingers wrapping around my neck. “You overrated whore!”

Driving me into the table, her fingernails digging into my neck, she kicked my legs out from underneath me. My back slammed into the table, the air immediately rushing from my lungs.

The impact had loosened her hands, so I shoved myself down the table, but not before grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it along with me.

Adriana screamed, sounding like a constipated lioness. Lunging across the table at me, she scratched my arm that had a hold of her hair. Holy Freddie Kruger nails. Those were going to leave a scar.

By now, as Adriana and I rolled, wrestled, and pretty much unleashed the cat fight of the century, a crowd was gathering around the table. Guys were hollering, throwing their fists in the air, chanting, “Cat fight. Cat fight. Cat. Fight!”

Adriana’s slut-length dress had rolled its way up over her ass cheeks, and the thong she was wearing left nothing to the imagination. I’d at least come prepared to the battle with a pair of jeans, but somewhere along the way, she’d managed to split the poly-blend of my blouse down to my navel, so my white lace covered tits were on display for all the bulging eyes and raised cell phones to catch.

Another hair flying, palm slapping roll down the table and I landed on top of Adriana, managing to pin her to the table with my legs. She squirmed beneath me, trying to free herself. This chick might have half a foot on me and be ten pounds heavier‌—‌if only in her bra‌—‌but I was a dancer and I could strangle a rhinoceros with my inner thighs if I needed to.

Raising my hand in the air, I slapped it down across her cheek.

“That was for all the other girls you’ve brutalized!” I shouted above her, folding my hand into a fist and bringing it back down. “And that was for Jude.” Her lower lip was split and bleeding, her cheeks dotted red from countless slaps and hits, and her hair looked like a hurricane had just come to town. I couldn’t have looked much better.

“And this is for me,” I said, gulping in a breath and raising my middle finger at her. I smiled down at her, keeping my finger hanging above her face.

Shrieking, she squirmed harder, managing to get a leg free which she promptly bucked right onto my chin.

I flew off the table, landing on the floor at the feet of countless spectators. Adriana leapt off the table, landing on top of me, unleashing a frenzy of hits and grunts. This couldn’t even be classified as a cat fight anymore. In fact, I’m sure once this whole thing went viral on the internet, the WW-something would be calling us to sign wrestling contracts.

“What the hell!” a voice shouted above the chorus of shouts. Before Adriana could land another fist into my face, she was shoved away, landing on her butt-flossed ass a few feet away.

“Luce,” he breathed outside my ear, sounding as scared as I’d ever heard him. “I’ve got you.” Two strong arms looped around me, lifting me gently to his chest. “What the hell were you doing? Are you okay?” he asked, swallowing when he looked down at my face.

“Did I win?” I asked, letting him tuck me closer to him.

Glancing down at Adriana, his eyes narrowed.

“You kicked ass, baby,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting down at me.

The pain started hitting me then, spreading from my head.

“Then I’m all right,” I replied.

Exhaling, Jude shook his head. “Let’s get you out of here, killer,” he said, steering me through the crowd, not caring who or how many people he bulled over.

“You look real pretty!” I shouted down at Adriana as we moved by her. “Slut!” I threw out for good measure.

Wiping her bleeding lip, she sneered up at me. “Even on my worse day, your boyfriend still jerks off to my face when you’re not around.”

This bitch wouldn’t take a hint. Squirming in Jude’s arms, trying to free myself so I could finish what I started, he only held me tighter.

“Ready for round two?” I seethed at her, shoving against Jude’s chest.

“Lucy,” he said, moving through the crowd faster, probably hoping to put more space between Adriana and myself. “Calm down. Take a breath,” he coached, looking into my eyes. One of them felt like it might be swelling shut.

Taking a formidable amount of effort, I did as asked, taking a deep breath and visualizing myself melting into his arms.

“And I thought I was the one with anger issues,” he said, climbing the stairs. “I’m afraid after tonight, you’ve got me beat, Luce.”

The pain was really starting to hit home now, pooling into every nerve ending.

“Anger through osmosis,” I replied, moving my jaw. Yeah, that was going to bruise too.

I regretted the words immediately. His face fell, although he tried to keep his eyes from following.