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Authors: L. B. Dunbar

Paradise Fought (Abel) (19 page)

BOOK: Paradise Fought (Abel)
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“I’d like to take you out,” I blurted, worried that our moment had passed. Elma was going to go back to being mad at me, and I was going to lose her again.

“Tonight?” she laughed. It was late for a Friday night. There weren’t many places still open except a pizza place near campus and the local bars. Neither was what I had in mind.

“Sure. I could follow you home and then you could ride with me…” Her raised hand cut me off.

“No. No, you can’t follow me home,” she paused. “I can just follow you somewhere. Lennie’s is open.” I was taken aback by her urgency for me to
not
follow her home, but I didn’t pressure her. Lennie’s, on the other hand, was a local sports bar that upperclassmen frequented to avoid the newbie freshman with fake I.D.’s and the newly legal sophomores. It was classier than some of the traditional college bars that boasted sticky floors and sweaty bodies. It wasn’t a place I had in mind, either. I wanted some place to be alone with Elma, where we could talk.

“How about if you just follow me, okay?”

Agreeing, Elma followed, then parked her yellow VW bug next to my massive black truck in the Frosty King parking lot. Getting out of her smaller car, she laughed at me over the roof while I exited mine.

“What’s this place?” she giggled.

“Ice cream,” I smiled in response. I led her to the window with a hand on her lower back where she ordered plain vanilla, while I ordered black cherry.

“Vanilla?” I chuckled. “That’s sort of plain.”

“I’m a simple girl,” she boasted, pushing her hair dramatically over her shoulder.

“Oh, Elma, rúnsearc, you are anything but simple.”

After we were served our cones through the walk-up window, we returned to my truck. I pulled the tailgate down and lifted Elma to sit on the edge. Her long tempting legs dangled off the tailgate. When I hopped up next to her, she asked, “Why do you keep calling me a shark?”

“Shark?”

“Yeah, roon shark.”

“You mean, a rúnsearc? It’s an Irish term.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Uh,…”
How could I tell her the meaning?
“It’s a secret.”

“What?” she laughed again. It was the best sound. “Like you’d have to kill me if you told me kind of secret?”

“Something like that,” I replied, shrugging. I wasn’t about to explain what it meant. Not yet.

“So…want to talk?” I asked.

“About what?” she giggled, before that masterful tongue of hers licked over her ice cream. My body shivered and I began to rise again with a need for her.

“I think you know what, Elma.”

She lowered the cone, her expression falling from mirth to confusion.

“Is this where you tell me you made a mistake back there?” Her head nodded to the side, but I knew where she inferred.

“What? No. Absolutely not. Unless you thought it was a mistake?” I asked awkwardly. My mind mentally prayed:
Please don’t let her think it was a mistake
.

Her smile slowly curled on her lips. “No. I don’t think it was a mistake either.”

We were silent for a moment.

“You know, I kind of like you, Abel,” she teased. The smile on my face grew large.

“I kind of like you, too, Elma,” I replied in a serious tone then bumped her shoulder with mine. It was juvenile, but she could be sweet.

“So if not that, what did you want to talk about?” Her tone was still playful. Her tongue was white with ice cream as she licked the scoop again. My lower region was uncontrollable. I rose stiffer with each lick of that cone.

“I meant…our bro…” Elma’s abrupt turn in my direction froze me as cold blue eyes hit mine.

“Abel,” she warned. “Can we…can we keep pretending for tonight?”

“Pretending?” I questioned. She didn’t respond. She shook her head and sucked at ice cream that dribbled over her fingers.

“Sure, Elma. I can keep pretending,” I thought. It was a farce anyway. Elma Montgomery was never going to be interested in me as anything deeper, now that she knew the truth. My brother might not have killed hers, but hers was dead at Cain’s hand.

We finished our cones with small talk about the fight the next night. Elma said she wasn’t sure she’d be going. Lindee didn’t like the fights, and Elma didn’t like to go alone. She never explained why she was initially interested in Thor as a fighter, but I could only assume it was to get near the circuit. It seemed strange to me that Elma would be interested in the fights, while she held so much hatred of the event that led to her brother’s death. She told me she hadn’t been to one until this semester.

“Why?”

“Just hadn’t thought about it before.” She shrugged.

“Thought about what?”

“Attending. But things changed.”

“Like what?”

“Ah, if I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she teased, but her expression grew serious. “It’s that kind of secret.”

I laughed wholeheartedly at her. No, Elma was anything but a simple, plain girl.

Lindee, her cousin, Maggie, and her roommate, Lucie, decided on Lennie’s for Saturday night. It was girls’ night out, Lindee declared and a much needed night on my part. I’d been working hard all week between school, the dance studio, and my mother. She was growing progressively worse in her blackouts; to the point I couldn’t remember her being sober, other than with the continued grunts and groans from her room next to mine. Even then, I’m not certain she was aware of what she was doing, or who. It was getting more and more difficult to be home, knowing a strange man or two was in the room next door. Not to mention, the growing number of empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter to be tossed each day. With the first anniversary of Montana’s death drawing closer, it seemed my mother was spiraling out of control.

I’d had no time for Abel, despite his repeated interest in a date. I didn’t attend his fight the night after our “dance,” and I wasn’t going tonight either, but I had wanted to. I missed him. I had only seen him in class, where he stole looks at me as I took glances of him. We talked occasionally in quick conversations on the phone, and he sent me texts throughout the day; nothing overly romantic, but still a hint of interest.

Hope you have a great day.

Missed you in lab.

Ice cream Friday night?

I didn’t take him up on the offer. I had explained to him, that no one wanted him to have a single interest. If he wanted women, he had to seem available. It would help his persona. We weren’t dating, so I refused the dates, even though I wanted one. The girls, in and out of class, began to swarm around him. Rumors of desire circulated through the halls, in the coffeehouse, and across the campus. Betta was becoming the new “it” man. The man every girl wanted to do “it” with, according to some gossip.

My jealously flared only a little when I caught Abel signing an autograph or addressing an overeager fan, but he seemed to look to me for approval. One time, I even smiled exaggeratedly and gave him a thumb’s up. He winked at me while he hugged the girl in his arms. This was what Abel had paid me for, only I felt the student had surpassed the master. I really wasn’t a professional flirt, and I really didn’t date a ton of guys. While I had the reputation, I was actually quite alone at times.

Girls’ night was the answer. We dolled up. Lindee let me borrow something clingy and curvy. Maggie wanted to play with my hair, so I let her curl it, and Lindee’s roommate, Lucie, did my make-up. She was a sweet girl, shy and studious. She’d been in Italy for the semester, which she claimed was the experience of a lifetime. She said she’d made a new friend on the trip that was a year older than us. The girl was supposed to join us for the evening out, but she was studying advanced biology and had an exam to cram for that night.

Lennie’s was loud with rock music and jumbo screens with a variety of sports games. Spring was nearing and March Madness seemed to be the talk of the night in the bar. For us, the talk was all men. Lindee assured me there was nothing going on between her and Creed McAllister, but she mentioned him in every other sentence. I was so happy to see her face light up when she spoke of him that I could hardly tease her. I wanted her to move on from memories of Montana. It had been almost a year and she was young. Montana would have wanted it, too. Maggie didn’t seem interested in anyone in particular, although she seemed to have heard of the mysterious Abel Callahan. She claimed she hadn’t met him, only seen him from afar.

“Let me tell you,” she drawled. “He is one fine specimen.”

I bristled at the way her voice lingered on
specimen
, but I laughed to cover my unease. Lucie had no idea who we were discussing, as she had no interest in the underground fights. When Abel walked in the door with a kid from our human anatomy class named, Victor Ortega, and Creed, I pointed in their direction. He didn’t see me, but you couldn’t miss him. He no longer sported those button-down dress shirts or his glasses. His muscled arms, with those bright tats, stood out amongst the crowd.

“He is
bello
,” Lucie said in her best Italian accent.

“Oh my,” Maggie hissed. My only response was to drink down my vodka cranberry. I was suddenly very thirsty.

Abel hadn’t paid any attention to his surroundings. He was drinking a beer and laughing it up with his friends. People came and went to congratulate him on what I could only assume was another win. Girls swam to him and slipped away until her. Keli Hogan strutted in with her posse of followers and stalked right up to Abel. He didn’t really acknowledge her, but she wasn’t letting him ignore her. She’d lifted his arm and placed it over her shoulder, where it limply laid for a while as he talked to his friends, who were slowly including the girls in their conversation.

I noticed that Lindee was eying the small crowd as she sipped her wine. Her eyes darted from Creed to the table, then back to Creed. Eventually, her almond colored eyes met mine.

“Has he seen you?” I asked quietly, while Maggie and Lucie talked about some Italian guy from Lucie’s trip overseas.

“I don’t think so.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We’re just friends.”

Lindee knew how to build a wall. She had to with Montana, I was certain. He was attentive to her when she was present, but when she wasn’t around, Lindee couldn’t trust that Montana didn’t play the field, or rather, the ring groupies.

I’d seen the way Creed looked at Lindee. I didn’t believe he wanted her as only a friend, however, staring over at the growing group, Creed was certainly holding his own to flirt with the brunette next to him. I noticed Abel’s hand had slipped and rested on Keli’s hip.
His hand had been on my hip like that only a week ago.
Suddenly, I was a freshman again. Cruz Farenbach flashed before my eyes. I went to a party at his fraternity, and there he stood, his hand blatantly on the ass of another. She gave him what he needed, Cruz had argued. I thought I had done that for him.

When Abel’s hand rubbed across Keli’s ass while he reached around her to shake someone’s hand, I’d seen enough. This was what Abel wanted, but I didn’t have to be a witness to it. I gently set my glass down. I was getting ready to leave when I noticed that Keli was leading Abel out of Lennie’s. My heart dropped to the floor.

“What are you going to do?” Lindee hissed, watching me over the table.

“I’m going home,” I said softly. “I can’t watch this.”

“I thought you said nothing was going on with you and Abel.”

“Nothing is,” I replied weakly, as I hopped off the tall stool and headed for the front door.

BOOK: Paradise Fought (Abel)
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