Blue 42 by C.A. Rene
Chapter eleven
Sebastian
Dani has not taken her eyes off Dixon the whole practice and it’s fucking pissing me off. I’m not jealous, I fucked the bitch last season, and she wasn’t that great of a lay anyway. It’s the pure desperation I see in her eyes and it makes her look pathetic. I hate pathetic people. Dixon has noticed her, I’ve seen him glance a few times but he hasn’t really acted on it, and that makes me want to laugh in her face. She’s twenty-three, acts demure and innocent but she’s fucked almost half the team; her ass has been around this field as much as the ball.
Dixon has a quick word with Coach and then he’s heading off the field towards the locker room, Dani running to catch up with him. I watch their interaction closely and when she talks to him, he barely acknowledges and gives her a tight nod. I laugh out loud before I can stop myself and Jameson cuts me a curious look. I clear my throat and shrug, guzzling down a mouthful of Gatorade. I look back to the double steel doors and see Dani walking back, looking dejected and rejected. Dumbass whore, I bet she thought she had a chance with Dixon, but even I know that guy has higher priorities. He has a little brother and mother he needs to pull off the streets. I think of the scuffed old bus pass I still have tucked into my wallet and grin while I take another drink. I fucking like that he ignored her advances.
I grab my towel and dry my face as I follow the guys back inside. I need a shower and then I need to smoke the blunt waiting for me in my car. It’s been a long ass day and my body is dog-tired. The guys all rush for the showers and I hang back, not really in the mood for small talk today. Jameson crooks an eyebrow at me as I sit on the bench and I wave him off, watching as he and Ortiz hit the showers. To be real, chilling with them is becoming a mundane chore, and all I crave lately is to be alone. Besides, my plans for Rookie no longer require their help, and I can’t trust that they’ll keep their big mouths shut. I watched him out there on the field, running his times, and beaming like a little bitch every time Coach praised him. He must have some serious daddy issues if he needs that constant approval.
What are the odds that North’s locker would be right next to mine? I look up at it and roll my eyes, it’s like someone is getting the last laugh with me. Not that it matters, he’s doing real well pretending I don’t exist, and that alone is irritating the hell out of me. I still haven’t dealt with him for punching me and then spitting in my face. That, he can’t get away with. I see the red light on the outside of the sauna and my eyebrows crash together in confusion. None of us really use that thing, preferring to use the ones we all have in our houses. Except, one of us doesn’t have an extravagant home with a sauna; he would prefer to save his money I bet and use all the team’s facilities instead.
I head towards the light, hearing the showers running in the next room, and the guys all talking animatedly. Would North really be in here and alone? I open the door and the steam cascades around my head, blocking my vision of the inside, and effectively blocking me as well. But I know he can sense me, just as well as I can sense him, and the atmosphere in here plummets.
“What do you want?” he sounds perturbed and that makes me grin. I affect him, no matter how much he tries to ignore it.
I drop my clothes to the side and grab a hot steamed towel off a hook, wrapping it around my waist. I step further into the heated room, my muscles already loosening, and the tension in my chest disappearing. He’s sitting in the back right corner, watching me warily, and I move straight ahead, sitting in the middle of the bench, about three feet from him.
“Are you saying I can’t use the sauna now, Rookie?” I sneer at him and he scoffs.
“I know you have one at home,” he retorts, “Zeal told me no one uses this. So, what the fuck do you want?”
Zeal has a big fucking mouth.
“I saw you talking to Coach’s daughter,” I say as I lean back against the warm wood behind me.
“I didn’t talk to her.” He sounds defensive and it takes everything in me not to laugh.
“Why? Not your type?” I dig at him, “what would Dixon North rather have in his bed?”
“Why is Sebastian Avando so damn interested?” he snaps back and my head swings to look at him.
“I’m actually concerned for Dani,” my lips curve upward, “she is Coach’s daughter after all and what do we really know about some punk kid from Baltimore?”
“There’s no need for your concern,” he says, his voice relaxing as he lays his head against the wall, “I’m not interested in Coach's daughter.”
His eyes are closed, like he’s so sure I won’t do anything, and the sight of his relaxation in my presence bothers me. The fact that the skin on his face is smooth and free of imperfections also pisses me off, what hardships has he endured? My gaze falls lower, over the beating pulse in his neck and then to his swollen chest. North is stacked and his abs are defined perfectly, he must work out hours every day. My eyes land on the towel he has secured around his waist and I see that it’s damp with his perspiration, the beads running down between the ridges of his abs, then soaking into the fabric.
“Now who’s watching whom?” his voice is quiet and my eyes skip back up to his. He’s wearing a smirk and looks smug like he caught me tripping.
“You can never know your enemy too well, Rookie.”
“That’s what I am to you,” he scoffs, “an enemy? And why? What the fuck did I ever do to you?” his voice begins to rise.
I snicker as I get up out of my seat; happy I can pull a reaction out of him, and proving I’m not being ignored, despite his best efforts. “You were fucking born.”
I step down from the wooden platform and before I can take another, I feel his hot body on my back. He turns me around and slams his fist into my cheek, then shoves me against the wall. I snap out of my shock quickly, anger growing hard and fast as I grab him by the throat, and switch places, slamming him into the wall. He shoves me off him and I take that opportunity to smash my fist into his cheek, watching as his head cracks to the side.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” I growl and he shoves me again, his chest heaving. “You have a motherfucking death wish.” I point into his face.
He slaps my finger away and growls, making me once again grab his throat, slamming his head into the wall. Both of our chests heaving and hatred shining bright from our eyes, my fingers curl tighter. He doesn’t react and I hate that about him. He works so hard to be unaffected by me. I hate it so much. I squeeze tighter and that anger once again burns hot, just as his hand comes up and wraps around my throat, hauling me into his face.
“What the fuck do you want?” He growls around my grip on his throat.
Maybe I need a reaction or maybe I’m out of my fucking mind, but I slam my mouth onto his, and his hand twitches around my throat, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t react either which has me growling into his mouth, preparing to force his lips open with my tongue; and then shock courses through me when he opens them without a fight. His tongue clashes with mine in a rough battle of teeth and lips, and his hand releases my throat to skim around behind my head and yank me in closer. My growl ends on a groan and I’m kissing him like I’m starved for the very air he’s breathing into his lungs. I suck his tongue into my mouth and step into him, our bodies flush. His chest pressing against mine and his hard cock digging into my groin.
He’s hard and so am I.
Finally, something inside me wakes the hell up, and I push off North. I look into his face and see shock plainly coating his features. Our chests heaving, my heart is thumping and my insides begin to quake, uncertainty making me volatile. I curse as my fist slams into the wood beside his head and I yank open the door, quickly putting distance between us.
I wanted a reaction and I guess I got one.
“Fuck!” I scream into the steering wheel.
What the fuck was that back there? Why does he bring out the worst in me? It’s taking everything I have not to storm back in there and beat him to death. My need to one up him is getting out of control and I crave his fear like an addict. I don’t know what happens to my head when he gets close and I can’t control my actions when he’s in my personal space. I punch the side of my head, the pain skating across my skull, and still, it’s not enough. I need to go home and soak my brain in powder and just forget what happened today. Because if I don’t, I will end up killing North, and my whole life will be over.
I slam the vehicle into drive and burn my tires as I speed out of the parking lot. I weave through traffic and cut people off, their horns sounding at my back. I don’t care. There’s something rattling loose inside my head and the more I try to avoid it, the more it’s fucking me up.
My tires squeal as I turn into my driveway, I’m home without killing anyone, and that’s a miracle. I rip myself out of the Hummer and tear into my house, slamming the door behind me. My body is shaking with an energy I can’t release and my head is consumed with a fog and him. Why did he kiss me back?
No.
I scrape my fingers over my scalp and when I feel the skin underneath grow wet with blood, I moan in relief. Everything is fine, I close my eyes, and try to breathe. I’m not actually gay. Then I think of us in towels, pressed together, and our cocks…
NO!
I turn quickly and slam my head against the wall, causing the Sheetrock to crack. I’m not fucking gay! I know what I want and it’s a woman under me. I’ve had so much pussy, free pussy. It comes with the sport. I turn quickly and pull my phone out of my pocket. That’s what I need, it’s been too long, and my body needs a release that only a woman can give me, that only a soaking wet pussy can give me.
I dial Jameson’s number and he picks up after two rings.
“Sup?”
“I need to chill.” I can hear the tight, anxious tone in my voice, “get over here with some girls.”
“In your house, Avando? We can hit up Neon Girls…”
“No,” I cut him off from suggesting the local strip club, “here.”
“Alright,” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Give us about an hour.”
“Make it thirty minutes.” I growl and hang up the phone.
Sure, I could take myself over to Neon Girls and grab my regular, she knows how I like my dick sucked. But I know that won’t be enough today, not after what happened, and besides, I need more than a blow job. I need to sink into a hot, wet pussy and pound the shit out of it. I get upstairs and take a shower, feeling the sting of the shampoo as it seeps into the scratches on my head, and glare down at my hardened cock. Why the fuck did it betray me like that? Getting hard for that little bitch rookie.
I have yet to soften since the sauna and I know it’s because I’ve gone too long. Maybe I should’ve tried to fuck the bitch from the club. Maybe then my brain wouldn’t have shut down and what happened with North would’ve never happened. Because that’s my real problem, I have certain needs, and when they aren’t met, bad shit happens. I ignore my cock as it pulses, begging me for relief, and I grit my teeth against the temptation. I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, not letting myself think of the towel I wrapped around my waist inside that sauna. I swipe the steam from the mirror and look at my face critically.
I have scrapes on my scalp but they’re turning pinker and less red. I have a small cut on my forehead from the wall and it looks a little bruised, but all in all, I’m ready to let myself go today. I can’t end it with what happened in that sauna room, I need it to end differently, I need to wipe that shit out of my head.
Nothing works better than coke and pussy.
Dixon
What the hell was that? I don’t even remember the drive home and the thought has my body going another round with the shakes. Did Avando kiss me? Did I actually kiss him back? I press my trembling hands to the back of my neck, I’m so fucking confused. I’m not gay. Not even a little bit. There has never even been a moment of confusion in my life, I have always been attracted to women, and dating a man wasn’t an option. I don’t like men. I mean, I don’t think so.
I growl and stand up from my couch. Why the fuck did he do that? Is this another one of his mind tricks? Like he owns me or something? He rapes me, taunts me constantly, and now he’s kissing me like I’m all he thinks about. What kind of game is this? All I know is, I failed miserably because I kissed him back, and I know in that moment, I would’ve gone further. But why? Why would I want to do that? Put aside the not being gay part, the guy fucking raped me! I don’t understand what’s happening with me and I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when I began to see him differently. But I do and it pisses me off. He’s fucked up and a bully to the extreme. He looks and acts like a gangbanger and he’s a fucking rapist. There’s clearly something wrong with his head and I just fell again into one of his games, that’s the only explanation.
Now I have something else I need to push down and ignore, pretend like it never happened; and it’s all thanks to Sebastian. If my mother ever found out what has been happening, she would die of a heart attack, and then somehow come back to haunt me. She’s an active member of the African Methodist Episcopal Church in Westport. She believes in revivals, fellowship, and First Sunday. Homosexuality is frowned upon and same-sex marriages contradict their teachings. I’ve never really heard her opinion on it and it’s never been spoken about in our house. Not that I’m a homosexual, but if this ever came out, I don’t know how’d she react; and that’s based on the fact that she’s very involved with the church. I’m so fucked.
Is he going to pretend like it didn’t happen too? Or were his sidekicks somewhere recording it? Oh my god, is that shit on video somewhere? I begin to sweat as I pace my small family room. Is that his endgame? To somehow blackmail me off the team? That can’t happen. I would say I was gay if it came down to it because I’ve worked so hard for this life and I won’t see it disappear because of him.
I need answers.
I grab my keys and head back outside. I know where he lives, it was something Ortiz said the other day, and he brought up the community. I know it because soon after I Googled it. I don’t even know why, it all ties into these confused feelings I’m having; I need to look him in the eye and figure out what it all means. What the fuck does he have planned?
I drive through the streets, my GPS telling me where to go, and all without knowing his house number, I’m guessing I’ll see his vehicle. I don’t know how he’ll react to me pulling up to his house and I may very well get a gun in my face for it, but I can’t ignore all this shit. It’s eating me up inside and the self-doubt is slowly attacking my mental state.
That kiss couldn’t have been staged; again, the conflict in my mind is like an illness, and I can’t get rid of it. It couldn’t have been staged, I know the way he kissed me, and it wasn’t something he did for an audience. It was rough and angry, filled with absolute fury. It was passionate and we were both affected, I felt it. He wanted it and I can’t deny that in that moment so did I. I don’t know what that means but I need to hear it from him, I need to know what he’s doing, and just what he expects from me.
I turn onto his street and I can hear the thumping bass as I move forward. I can’t tell which house it’s coming from but I know it must be his. Sounds like he’s trying to ignore shit, too; or maybe he’s celebrating a win. I don’t know. I slow down when I see his vehicle in the driveway of a large colonial style home and spot a few other vehicles too. This is the house that’s vibrating with the force of the loud music and spilling girls out of its front doors. He’s having a party? On a Monday afternoon? I spot Ortiz there, dragging a woman inside, and he’s laughing as she tries to adjust her too short skirt. I don’t see any other teammates but I would bet a lot of money that Jameson is also inside somewhere.
I don’t see any others from the team nor do I see their vehicles. My heart begins to hammer again as my mind flies through the different reasons why those three are throwing this party. Am I about to be exposed for something I didn’t do? I know I did it, but I had no intention of doing that, and I’m starting to feel like everything was indeed a plan. I begin to feel lightheaded and rest my forehead to the cool steering wheel, I hate not knowing. It feels like my world is crumbling under my feet and after I’ve worked so hard to build it. I thought I built it to be immovable, unable to break, and I’m learning that in reality, it’s so fucking weak.
The foundations of my beliefs and the work I’ve put into my future, is now crumbling out from under me. All because one man couldn’t just leave me alone and I can’t help but ask why? It goes to show that no matter how stable you feel at any given time, it can be ripped away from you, and the decisions you make determines the fallout. One decision - one act - can completely destroy your life’s work and I’m not sure how to prepare myself for the outcome.
I pull away from his house and the rager of a party he’s having, only to pull into my own driveway without a single notion of how I got here. My mind is blacking out all extreme emotions and my overwhelming panic is one of them. I don’t know what I’ll face when I show up for practice tomorrow and I know I’ll have to be prepared for the worst.
It’s always the worst when Sebastian Avando is involved.
