Paradise Fought (Abel) (4 page)

He took a seat in the middle row and instantly girls surrounded him. Abel traced the line of my stare. He sat up straighter in his seat.

“You like him?” he said with a nod in the direction of the dirty blond, six-two structure that sat like he owned the row of chairs around him. Hell, he leaned back like he owned the damn room, which according to rumors of wealth, he might have. He defined casual.

“He’s good looking,” I said, trying to play it off, but my eyes didn’t lie. I continued to stare. Thor was attractive. He was solid, muscular, maybe a bit too much for my taste, but this wasn’t about me directly. I needed to learn what happened to Montana.

“What’s good looking about him?” Abel asked, beginning to tap his pen against his notebook. “He looks like a schmuck.”

I snorted softly. “Well, girls don’t go for him for his brain.”

“So that’s it? Size matters. You’re interested in his…” Abel motioned over the zipper of his jeans. It forced me to look at his crotch. Suddenly, I had an image of what he might have under his clothes. He was tall, actually. Probably taller than Thor, but Abel was leaner. If our human anatomy class proved anything, it might clarify that a taller man had to be proportionally adept.

I blushed as Abel caught me staring at his zipper region, just a little too long.

“Well, it’s not his size I’m interested in either, although if that’s what it takes…” My voice trailed off as I realized I’d said too much.

“If
what’s
what it takes?” Abel questioned with an edge to his voice. His blue eyes darkened.

“Never mind,” I mumbled.

“No, tell me,” Abel demanded, leaning across the small writing platform and facing me. His elbow rested on the desktop, suddenly shielding my view of Thor and some brunette, who was laughing a little too loudly at something he said.

“I need to get where he goes,” I hinted, thinking there was no way a person like Abel would know what I was referencing. The fights weren’t a secret, but they were hidden.

“The underground?” he responded, surprising me.

“Shhhh…” I said looking over my shoulder. “Yes,” I answered quickly then glanced back at Abel.

“Hhmmm,” he replied, sitting back and staring across the rows at Thor. His eyes narrowed as he studied Thor for a moment.

“I know someone who can take him.”

I was surprised again. “Really? I heard Thor’s the best, and I’m counting on it being true.”

“Why?” Abel asked, turning toward me again. His eyes studied me this time. I wasn’t ready to respond, though. I’d already said too much and Abel had already done enough. I’d owe Abel and I needed cash to pay him back for the tuition save. I was going to kill my mother. Thor was even more important to my mission. When I didn’t respond, Abel spoke again.

“Heard there’s a new fighter this season. Someone who’s fast, knows how to move.”

“Uh, well, he better be big, if he’s going to beat Thor.”

“So size does matter?” he chuckled.

“In this case, yes.”

“Too bad. Heard we’re going to learn in this class that taller guys have longer…” He motioned to himself again. I had to laugh. This made people turn in our direction, and I realized I had become the girl who was laughing a little too loudly, at the wrong guy in the room.

When Elma laughed, my dick pulsed. Wonder if they’d be teaching us
that
physiology in human anatomy? I didn’t really need the course. This would be an easy A for me. I understood the control of body and the strength to clear my mind, but I needed an elective course for my degree. Kinesiology: the study of bodily movement. It was something I’d been working on since high school. Something I focused on as I entered the gym.

I liked to workout late at night. There weren’t many people in the rec center then and the place was quiet. Most people were studying or partying. It was the first day of class for the spring semester, and my roommate was going out tonight. I told him I’d meet up with him later. I had to get back to my routine after the winter holiday. Tonight was circuit training. As I worked my muscles from top to bottom, my mind wandered. Elma Montgomery was a mystery to me.

She’d been staring so intensely at Thor Thurston, I could almost see them having sex. She wanted him, but I sensed there was a deeper purpose. I wasn’t jealous by nature. I’d learned to let that emotion go. It was wasted energy when I was younger. Cain had all the attention anyway. Cain Callahan, Cobra in the ring. He’d become a prizefighter, working his way through the proper channels under the guidance of my father and his team of trainers. I was never trained for the fight.

Considered small for my age, I was scrawny and thin as a child, but I was fast. My father likened me to a colt. My mother said my fighter name should be Mustang. I would never be a fighter, though. I would outrun them all, she joked when I was young, and she was present. Outrunning my father became my trademark, until one day he caught me.
I’ve caught you now, you little bastard.
The words rang through my ear, as did the box to it that followed. I was considered a late bloomer. I grew taller my sophomore year in high school and filled out by the time I was a senior. By then, it didn’t matter. All focus was on Cain, the alpha son. I was a beta: the second one.

I’d watched Elma watch Thor. I couldn’t say she liked him, but she lusted after him, and that’s what I needed from her. I wanted girls to look at me like they looked at him. I believed it would help me complete the personal metamorphosis I was trying to make. While kinesthesia involved the body, I needed to also change my mindset. I was book smart. I liked to read, write, and wonder as a child, but I needed to be street smart, sex smart, and Elma was going to be the book I studied.

She hadn’t agreed to formally date me as tutoring lessons, but she didn’t push me away when we entered class, and I took that as a start. However, she ditched me as soon as I asked the professor for clarification of some reading material on the syllabus after class. I didn’t know anything about Elma Montgomery, other than the address on the receipt I received for paying her tuition bill. She didn’t live on campus like me. I had a townhome a few streets away, which I shared with my best friend, Creed McAllister.

Named after his parents’ favorite band, Creedence Clearwater Revival, he hated to explain his name. One too many hits of pot and a pregnancy resulted to people who were eventually considered married by common law. They didn’t believe in the formality of governmental issued marriage. I found his parents refreshing. He found them embarrassing. We’d been friends since freshman orientation. With bleach blond hair that hung just below his jaw, and a sculpted body like mine, he looked like a surfer out of water, displaced here in the valley.

Promising to meet him at a party near campus, I hurried home to shower and dress in my signature long sleeve shirt and jeans. I styled my hair to keep it down and donned my glasses. While I was ready to ditch them as part of the developing me, I couldn’t reveal myself yet. I needed more time.

I entered the party to find the place packed with students, wall to wall people standing. I didn’t do well in crowds. It made me feel even more inconspicuous. I hovered as I tried to push my way through the throngs of people with drinks in hands and false smiles on faces. I bumped into one girl, who ceremoniously spilled her drink on my shirt, then blamed me.

“Watch where you’re going,” she blurted, as she forced her red plastic cup in my direction, unnecessarily. Thankfully, the glass wasn’t full, but my shirt was wet nonetheless. I found my blond haired friend in the kitchen area, where the crowd was thinned but the counter heavy with bottle after bottle of hard alcohol. My eyes narrowed on a bottle of Jack. I could use a nip to take off the edge. My workout should have relaxed me, but with my mind racing over thoughts of Elma, my body was tight.

I was reaching for the bottle, when a hand swiped it off the counter.

“Hey,” I yelled in time to face Theodore Thurston. Thor. His green eyes danced as he stared into my glasses. He curled the bottle into his arm like he was tucking up a football.

“Get your own bottle,” he laughed and walked off with his arm around the brunette girl from class earlier in the day.

I stood staring in disbelief when Creed stepped into my view.

“What happened to you?” He eyed the wet spot on my shirt with his gray glare.

“Someone knocked into me.”

“What was that?” He motioned over his shoulder as Thor exited the kitchen through a sliding glass balcony door, with the girl and the bottle in hand.

“He’s an ass,” I stated, as I ran a hand through my hair, then felt the heaviness of product.

“You look uptight,” Creed said, addressing me when he turned to face me. “Relax,” he stressed. Creed and I were practically the same build, which made him the perfect sparring partner.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling this party,” I replied, looking around at the nameless people in the small space. I didn’t do well in small spaces either.

“Didn’t you workout?” Creed questioned, his gray eyes narrowed on me, knowing the answer to his question. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

“That’s what I was going for when….” My words faltered. My thoughts drifted as in walked Elma Montgomery, looking even more so like my nightly dream. She wore a short skirt with a fitted shirt, and every curve of her body hollered for attention. Her long blonde hair was curled and bounced as she entered the room. In response to someone’s comment, her laughter rippled sound waves straight to a body part that should not stand up at attention in such close quarters.

When some guy looped his arm around her waist, then ran it across her ass as he stepped away to get her a drink; I bristled. Elma didn’t flinch but I saw the slight stiffness as she attempted another laugh to cover the awkwardness. Without thinking, I stepped forward while she waited by the door, and the guy neared the counter.

“Hey, Elma,” I said, trying to sound cool, natural.

“Abel?” she squeaked, looking side to side and straightening off the doorjamb. “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking to her left again as if someone might see her talking to me.

“It’s a party.” I tried to be casual, but her embarrassment was beginning to show, and it was upsetting to me.

Her eyes travelled up and down my body. My reaction couldn’t be helped. It responded in kind to the scan of those blue eyes. My jeans tightened further.

“What happened to your shirt?”

“Oh,” I said looking down, and wiping at the wet spot “I bumped into some girl.”

The random guy returned and offered Elma a drink. As she took the cup, I eyed it.

“Do you know him?” I asked, my voice accusatory.

“Excuse me?” Elma’s lids blinked in confusion

I nodded in the direction of the senior who stood next to her, taking a sip of his drink. His eyes narrowed at me over the white rim of the red plastic.

“We’re getting acquainted,” he replied after he took a pull from his cup. Elma was raising hers with a smirk when I reached for it and yanked the cup out of her hand.

“Hey,” she screeched.

“What’s in this?” I asked, staring down the guy whose expression changed from guilt to anger in an instant.

“Back off, man. Get your own girl,” he said lowering the glass.

“I have one.” I nodded in the direction of Elma, whose mouth fell open. Staring in disbelief between the gorgeous blonde he wanted and me, the randy guy was suddenly upset that Elma wouldn’t be the one getting him off tonight.

“Tease,” he muttered, as he shook his head and raised his cup for another drink.

“Excuse me?” My throat rolled.

“Abel,” Elma warned.

“I said. She’s a tease.”

My arm shot out. Gasps were heard. My fist landed on the plastic cup and alcohol sprayed everywhere. I saw his hand rise, but I was pulled out of the way as the swish of air brushed past my ear. Elma had rolled her body around the doorjamb and was dragging me down a narrow hall.

“You pussy,” a deep voice followed us, and I tugged back on Elma to return to the potential fight.

“No,” she hissed and continued to yank on my arm, leading me into a bedroom before slamming the door and twisting the lock.