Chapter 4 (Jackson)
“If you want to go to the police after this, I'll go with you,” I say when I open the door to my apartment building.
Hesitation, discomfort, and finally what looks like resolve flash in her eyes all in the five seconds it takes her to answer. “No.”
I say a silent prayer that Tyrone's not home as we ascend the stairs to my apartment. Lord knows, he'll have a lot of questions about this.
Especially since for the last 3 years he's known me, I've never brought a girl back to our apartment before.
Let alone, one who's already in handcuffs. I'd be lying if I said the vision of her bound and standing there in her hot pink thong didn't make my cock twitch.
Until I reminded myself how she ended up that way.
With a sigh I continue leading her to my front door ...then I hear it.
Fuck me...this is not good.
“Look, I'm sorry. It turns out my roommate’s home after all,” I say while trying not to stare into those piercing hazel eyes of hers.
“How do you know? I mean, we’re not even inside yet.”
“I'm surprised you can't hear it,” I mutter as I pull out my key and open the door.
When we walk in, it's even worse than I imagined it would be. He's parading around the living room, Risky Business style...in nothing but a pair of green Hulk boxers, while Nelly's- Country Grammar blasts from the stereo.
Alyssa's mouth drops open and I can't tell if it's because she's impressed by his dance moves, or him in general.
Truth be told, most women are impressed with him.
It's probably the combination of his Southern accent and the fact that he's built like a brick shit house. That, and Tyrone himself has been known to turn on the charm and be a bit of a player when the time calls for it.
And since I've had the liberty of not only being his roommate, but sharing a locker room with the guy for 3 years...I can, unfortunately, attest to the fact—that yes—it is true what they say about black guys and their equipment.
“From Texas back up to Indiana, Chi-Town, K.C., Motown to Alabamaaaa!” he screams before he spins around and faces us.
Beside me, Alyssa lets out a little giggle.
“Shit, Jackson. I'm sorry. I thought you were still at the club,” he says. He flashes Alyssa a coy smile. “And who is this lovely lady?” Before Alyssa can answer, confusion sweeps across his features. “Wait, you're the ring girl. Aren't you?”
Alyssa nods her head while Tyrone holds out his hand to her. “I'm sorry ma'am, where are my manners? We didn't really have a chance to exchange pleasantries at the club, I'm Tyrone.”
She clearly can't shake his hand, though, seeing as she's still handcuffed and all. She looks down and backs away while uttering a curse. Tyrone immediately and understandably, looks offended, which just makes this whole situation that much worse.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. I know what he's implying and since I'm almost positive that it's not true, I really need to run interference. “She can't shake your hand because she's handcuffed, Tyrone,” I offer.
Alyssa begrudgingly turns around to show him.
“Shiiiit, girl. You on the lamb?” he asks.
“No. There was a misunderstanding and I somehow ended up getting handcuffed while in the backseat of my car. But we can't find the key.” she says.
She shoots me a glance that I can only interpret as 'please, don't say any more about what happened.'
I nod my head, while Tyrone looks at me, grins, and shakes his head while muttering, “Crazy ass, white boy,” under his breath. I take a step behind Alyssa and give him the finger before asking, “Do we have a saw or something around here?”
He rubs his chin and grins. “No Jackson, we're not all freaks like you. But you know who might have one?”
“Fuck,” I mumble.
“What? What's the matter?” Alyssa asks.
Tyrone rubs his hands together. “This is gonna be awesome,” he says before he opens the front door.
Alyssa quickly follows him even though I try stopping her.
I follow them both out into the hallway. Tyrone pounds on his front door. “Yoo-hoo. Ricky Ricardooooo, I know you're in there. Open up,” he says in his mock Spanish accent.
Alyssa nudges me with her elbow. “Ricardo? You mean—”
“My coach,” I finish for her.
The door swiftly opens and out comes a shirtless Ricardo...along with a barely dressed Lou-Lou close behind him. Lou-Lou props a hand on her hip. “Peppa? I thought you got canned?” she sneers.
Tyrone and I exchange a glance, but it's quickly interrupted when Alyssa lunges toward Lou-Lou. “Number one, I have blonde hair, you idiot. Number two- you're a bitch. Thanks a lot for lying to me about our 'job description'. I can't believe I almost slept with him!” she screams.
I don't have time to be offended by her statement because Lou-Lou cackles, which only infuriates Alyssa that much more. “I didn't tell you to do anything you didn't want to do in the first place. I know a slut when I see one. Not my fault you fell for the trap and showed your true colors.” She motions to the handcuffs and her lips turn up in a snarl. “Puttana.”
I instinctively stand in front of Alyssa while Ricardo reaches for his shirt. “Whoa, ladies. That's enough,” he snaps.
Alyssa proceeds to ignore him, and instead, steps to the side and head-butts Lou-Lou.
Lou-Lou lets out a yelp while I pull Alyssa back to me. “Go home, Lou-Lou,” I bark.
Ricardo whispers something in her ear and with a sniffle, she finally, walks down the hallway and into her own apartment.
“You all live in the same apartment building?” Alyssa asks when we walk back inside my apartment.
“Yeah,” is my only reply because I'm more worried about the red spot forming on her forehead at the moment.
I usher her into the kitchen, pull out an ice pack from the freezer and hold it to her head. She winces, but mumbles a quick “Thanks.”
“So, why exactly, do you have the same girl from earlier tonight standing in your apartment, Jackson?” Ricardo asks. His gaze shifts behind her back. “Handcuffed, no less.”
He takes a step closer to Alyssa and something flashes across his face.
Alyssa's expression changes from one of annoyance to what I can only interpret as shame...which I'm guessing is due to the handcuffs.
“I've seen you before,” Ricardo whispers.
That's odd.
“Yeah,” Alyssa says softly while looking down at her feet.
I don't know what the hell's going on, but they exchange another glance and Ricardo clears his throat. “I have a blow torch, I'll be right back.”
Alyssa sprouts up from her chair. “A blow torch. No. Fuck, no!” she screams.
I run my hand along her cheek in an attempt to calm her down. She shivers at first before she leans into my touch. “Look, I promise, I won't let him hurt you. It's the only way to get those off, though.”
“It's gonna hurt, Jackson. What if he ends up burning me?”
I trace my finger down her jaw and she closes her eyes. “He won't. I won't let that happen,” I whisper while she nods her head.
Tyrone clears his throat, shakes his head, and pulls a bottle of Jack Daniels out of the cabinet.
He pours a glass and walks over to Alyssa. “This should help calm your nerves.”
She gives him a smile as he lifts the glass to her lips and she takes a sip.
A moment later Ricardo walks back into the apartment wearing a welder's helmet and a pair of gloves. He's also holding what looks to be a miniature sized blow torch in his hand.
Tyrone tilts the glass to her lips again, but Alyssa declines. “No thank you. I really don't like to drink,” she says sharply.
She's trying not to show it, but I can see her begin to tremble.
Ricardo pulls out another pair of gloves. “Jackson, see if you can put these on her hands so I don't end up burning her.”
I take the gloves from him and make quick work of slipping them on underneath the cuffs.
Alyssa's eyes connect with mine and she swallows hard. “There's going to be sparks,” she whispers.
“I'll protect you,” I assure her.
Ricardo walks behind her. “Hold still,” he says before he pulls the face part to his mask down.
Alyssa glances over her shoulder. “Um, do you have any experience with this?”
“With a blow torch or getting people out of handcuffs?”
“Both.”
He jerks a shoulder up. “I'm a Puerto Rican from the Bronx,” he says, as if that answers her question.
Her entire body tenses, until I move closer. “Keep your head against my chest,” I whisper. “The sparks will hit me, not you.”
She shakes her head, her expression turning solemn. “No, I don't want you to get hurt either.”
“It's fine,” I say as she tucks her head against my chest and I fold my arms around her.
I try not to breathe in the hint of coconut in her silky hair as I continue to hold her.
Tyrone looks at me and makes a “tsk, tsk” sound under his breath. Ricardo starts the blow torch and less than a minute later, Alyssa's hands are free.
“Thank you,” she murmurs to both me and Ricardo.
Ricardo nods and heads for the front door. “Training is at 3pm tomorrow, guys,” he reminds us before he leaves.
Alyssa stands up and brushes her hands over her pants. “Where's the bathroom?”
I point over my shoulder. “Second door on the right. If you need anything, let me know.”
She gives me a smile before she begins walking.
I walk over to the fridge and grab a bottle of water.
Tyrone, who's still in his hulk boxer shorts drums his fingers on the countertop and stares at me. “That girl is trouble with a capital F,” he starts.
I roll my eyes. “Last time I checked, trouble begins with a T, Tyrone.”
“Well, in her case it's F, because she will fuck you over and I don't mean in the bedroom. I know you don't date much, but seriously. Take my word for it, that girl is all kinds of trouble that you don't need.”
“She's a nice girl...” I start to say.
“I'm not judging, lord knows I've brought home my fair share of crazies...but last time I checked. Nice girls don't show up on people's doorsteps in handcuffs. Nor, do they go around headbutting other chicks.”
I run a hand through my hair. “She was in trouble. It wasn't her fault.”
He gives me a pointed look. “Yeah, it never is.” He sighs. “Please, just tell me that she didn't ask you for money already.” Apparently my expression must give me away because he lets out another sigh. “In her defense, she didn't ask. I basically gave her no choice but to take what I made from the fight tonight.”
He spits out his drink. “You mean to tell me that you handed that girl over 5 grand!”
“What?” a voice shrieks behind me.
In a flash, Alyssa reaches inside her purse. “What the hell is the matter with you? Take your money back, now. I had no idea it was that much.”
I begin to protest, but she slams the wad of cash down on the countertop while looking at Tyrone. “You should listen to your friend, Jackson. I'm not a good girl. You don't want to get mixed up with someone like me,” she says before she makes her way to the front door.
I instinctively reach for her hand. “Stop. First off, you didn't ask me for the money, I gave it to you. Secondly, you've been drinking- you shouldn't be driving right now. And finally, I can make my own decisions regarding the people I hang out with. So, sit your ass down on the couch...now.”
She raises an eyebrow at me before she takes a few tentative steps toward the couch in the living room and sits.
Tyrone glances at the money on the counter and shrugs. “Maybe I misjudged you after all,” he says in Alyssa's direction before he heads to his bedroom.
I walk out to the living room. “Anything else you want me to do?” she asks.
“Yeah, tell me a little bit about yourself, for starters.”
She smirks. “Please, like I'm sure you don't already know.”
I have no idea what's she talking about, but I'm getting sick of her evasive answers. “You know what? Forget it,” I huff before I stand up.
A few moments later I walk back out and hand her a fresh t-shirt and a pair of boxers.
“What's this?”
“What does it look like?”
She shakes her head. “I had like one sip of alcohol. I'm fine to drive, really. I don't need to spend the night.”
“You live over an hour away. It's already 2:30 in the morning. I'll take the couch, you can take my bedroom.”
She stands up. “No, Jackson. You've already helped me way more than I deserve for one night. I can't keep taking advantage of you.”
Her entire expression softens, and I can't help but think that maybe, she's finally going to let her guard down with me.
“It's not taking advantage if I offer,” I insist.
With a sigh, she holds out her hand and accepts the clothes. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she whispers.
“Why not?” I counter.
Then, to my complete surprise. She stands up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Jackson.”
I watch as she closes the door to the bedroom...and I can't help but think that maybe, Tyrone's right after all.
This girl is trouble...but I still can't help but want to know what her demons are.
***
A few hours later, I hear the sound of the balcony door close and I'm on my feet.
I scrub a hand down my face and walk outside. The sunrise is coming up over the horizon and Alyssa's curled up on a chair with a blanket draped over her.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you,” she says.
I take a seat on the chair next to her. “It's fine. Are you okay?”
She twirls her hair into some kind of knot on top of her head. “Yeah, I just kind of have a thing when it comes to being at other people's houses. I really don't like it.”
Hmm, that's interesting.
“I won't hurt you, Alyssa.”
She grips the edge of the chair. “Then what do you want from me, Jackson?”
I decide to be honest with her. “That's the thing. I don't want anything from you.” I look at her. “Actually, that's kind of a lie. I would really like to get to know you. Maybe even...if you let me. Be your friend.”
“My friend? Yeah, right. That's new,” she scoffs. “Look, you already know I'll put out...if that's what you're after.”
I place my hand on her shoulder. “It's not. Please, don't take offense to this, you're beautiful...but something tells me that you need a real friend much more than you need another guy to fuck right now.”
“I don't even know what to say to that,” she whispers.
“Say you'll have lunch with me today.”
“Lunch?”
“Yeah, lunch. That's all, I swear.”
She seems to contemplate this as she stretches out in the chair. “I don't even know your last name. Or anything else about you.”
I extend my hand out to her and grin. “I'm Jackson Reid. I turned 27 in August and I'm formerly of Boston, Ma- which gives me my wicked cool accent...but now I reside here. ”
She takes my hand and smiles. “Alyssa Tanner...I'll be 24 at the end of next month and consider yourself lucky. New York City is the best place in the whole entire world.”
“So why do you live just outside the city limits then?”
She closes her eyes. “My parent’s house is there.”
“Oh, so you still live with your parents?”
She gets up from the chair and walks over to the balcony door. “No, I don't.”
I open my mouth to find out more about her, but she interrupts me.
“I'm going to try and get some more sleep. But, I'll join you for lunch, Jackson.”