Page 5 of Striker's Foul
“Your mom shouldn’t leave you with me, little angel.”
“Why?” She licked her lips, and I groaned.
“Because all I can think about is kissing those lips, and I don’t even know how old you are.”
“I’m sixteen. How about you?”
“I’m eighteen.”
She smiled, and without thinking about it, I leaned down and softly pressed my lips to hers. Her wide, full lips were warm and soft. I wanted more, but we were still holding the gun and surrounded by too many people.
I pulled back before I could get a full taste of her.
“I did it wrong, didn’t I?” She huffed and looked down.
I released the rifle after making sure she had a good grip on it, then lifted her chin to meet my eyes.
“No, angel, you did it right.”
“But you stopped. We didn’t even French.”
She was killing me.
“I don’t want every guy around here seeing me kiss you because you’re going to light up.”
“How do you know?” She sighed.
“Because I can already feel it. Amelia, let me help you. Then, if your mom is okay with it, we can go walk around.”
“Okay, but we need to make sure Mama is with her nurse or sitting down.”
“Why?”
“My mama has Huntington’s disease. Daddy refuses to come out to these things unless it’s an election year, but she wanted to. I don’t want her to have issues and no one there to help.”
Her need to protect her mom was so foreign to me. I couldn’t have cared less about my own mom most of the time. We got along, but not like this girl and her mother.
I showed her how to shoot the gun until she was beating the game, then the carny asked us to move on. When we looked for her mom, we found her seated at a table, talking to another woman.
“Oh, that’s one of my mama’s day nurses. Come on.” She took my hand and led me toward them. Her small, delicate hand was in my large paw, and it was the best feeling ever.
“Hey, Striker.” I’m shaken from my memories and look up to see Gambit standing over me. “What’s this about you punching Commander and him laying your ass out?” Gambit chuckles, but I don’t want to talk about that traitor.
I grab the bottle and slug back the warm liquid, trying to purge the memories. Her soft, sweet, timid lips and the first time we had sex a couple of weeks later. The night I swore I’d always protect her. Little did I know that not long after that, she’d lie to protect herself from her parents’ punishment when they found out we were having sex.
The bottle is yanked from my grasp, but the pain is still there.
“Dude, settle down. I’ve only seen you like this a couple other times,” Gambit growls as he hands the bottle off.
I stand up too fast and wobble on my legs. I grip the table and flip it out of the way, not caring where it lands.
“You want to fight too? You want to see if you can lay me out like that backstabbing fucker did?”
I stumble forward, and Gambit just shakes his head.
“Sorry, old man,” he says, then rears back.
I don’t stop him. Don’t even try to block the hit. I just need to quiet my brain for a bit. Stop the memories from surfacing.
