Clash (Crash 2)

“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.

o;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.