Sidelined (Game On 3)

I heard footsteps running across the empty parking lot and I squeezed my eyes closed. Whoever shouted had spared me for a few minutes longer, until they pummelled him into the ground and came back to finish what they started.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

I didn’t want to see what happened next. Instead of shouts and the sound of fists flying, I fell to the floor as Lew and DJ released me, and two sets of footsteps sped away.

“Whoa,” the strange voice said, trying to catch me. Too late. I’d already hit the ground, still vibrating with fear and sobs, jeans around my knees.

Fingers touched my cheek. I tried to pull away from him, tried to struggle out of his reach.

“No,” he said, gently. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The softness of his voice forced me to open my eyes. In front of me was a sandy-haired man, staring at me with nothing but concern. Not even disgust at the state I must have been in.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“B…Bree.”

“Bree. I’m Jude. Jude Collinson. I’m going to take you to the hospital.”

“Wow,” Jesse said as I paused for breath. I didn’t realise I was crying until I stopped talking, and Jesse shuffled over as close to me as possible. “Come here.”

I collapsed against his chest and he held me close, stroking my hair. “You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I made bad decisions. That’s all.”

“You were seventeen, Bree. And you had nobody in your life to show you how things are supposed to be.” Jesse paused. “Those guys… they didn't…?”

“No. Jude arrived before they got too close.”

“Thank God. This is a crazy story.”

I chuckled, wiping my eyes. “That’s why I don’t tell it very often.”

“What happened after Jude found you?”

“He took me to the hospital. I thought I’d never see him again after he left. The next day he came back and brought me flowers. He stayed for a while. Said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and wouldn’t have felt right if he didn’t check on me. Pretty generous for a guy whose car I was supposed to steal, huh?”

Jesse laughed. “I think anyone with a heart would have done the same, regardless of why you were in the parking lot.”

“He came to the hospital every day. I was grateful and all, but the last men I trusted tried to rape me. Jude never told me who he was. I found out by accident when I saw him in the sports section of a newspaper one of the nurses brought me. The fact he had so much money and fame scared me more. I didn’t want to be his charity case, and I didn’t want his reputation ruined when people found out where I came from. Because I always thought people would find out.”

“So what did you do? Did you tell him you knew who he was?”

“Nope. I figured if he wasn’t going to, I wouldn’t be the first to mention it. When I got released from the hospital I had nowhere to go. Jude offered me a room at his place but I still didn’t trust him. So he offered to pay for me to stay at a hotel for a few days. I didn’t want his money, so he said we’d discuss it over dinner.” A smile crossed my lips at the memory. He was adorable that day. “We ate, and I knew. He wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met. I agreed to stay at his for one night while I figured out what to do next.”

“And one night turned into forever?”

I laughed. “Sort of. I stayed, and he let me be. Let me do what I needed to do to heal. He kept his distance, but always checked in with me to make sure I was okay. We didn’t start dating for almost a year. He never laid a finger on me, not even to give me a hug until our first date.”

Even when I had nightmares about my parents, he stayed close but he never touched me.

Jesse smiled. “Must have taken some self-control on his part.”

My cheeks burned, and my stomach flipped over. Jesse was like Jude, only younger. Sweet, thoughtful. Hot. Way hot.

“How are you still so happy all the time?” Jesse asked. “After everything you’ve been through.”

“I think because my parents taught me how,” I said, forcing my brain back on track and far away from the fleeting thought Jesse was a total babe. “They were both such warm people, maybe it’s genetic. Even after everything, I grew up knowing I was loved, so I guess I knew what to look for.”