Chapter 3: Soft Like Thunder: Chapter 2

DEACON’S DOOR HIT THE WALL WITH A DULL THUD. He shot upright in his bed, all red and riled. When he saw who was barging into his room, he gave pause.

“What’s up, man?” he grumbled.

“I’m here to ask you the same. I just got through carting a screaming, writhing girl from your room.” I leaned a shoulder on the doorjamb. “An explanation would be nice.”

He swung his legs over the side of his bed, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. “Bitch wanted more of this. I was through with her. She didn’t like it. Went crazy.” He shot me a cocky smirk. “What can I say? I’m irresistible, apparently.”

I jerked, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re telling me you had that girl?”

He cocked his head. “Not much of a boon. Buy her a few drinks, and I’m pretty sure she’s the kind of girl anyone can have.”

I didn’t believe a word Deacon was saying. Not because he couldn’t pull. He absolutely could. He was smarmy as hell, but he came with a family name that meant something to a lot of people. He had connections, and he had ready cash.

Money wasn’t hard to come by for most of the students at Savage U, but Deacon was on a different level. Even girls who had trust funds waiting for them when they graduated looked at Deacon as a ticket to the next echelon. Or they really wanted a ride on his sick-ass yacht—his words, not mine.

The reason I didn’t believe Deacon was because I didn’t want to. I’d be sorely disappointed if that wild little tiger I’d just held in my arms would stoop to Deacon’s level. Surprised too. I didn’t know anything about her, but the two times I’d encountered her gave me every indication she wouldn’t touch Deacon even if her life depended on it.

“Yeah? I didn’t catch that vibe from her.” I shrugged. “I could be wrong.”

Deacon’s nostrils flared. “Yeah. While you were caught up with your little girlfriend all last year, I was getting to know our skater townie friend. I think I know her vibe a lot better than you, man.”

My jaw instantly hardened. “Don’t go there.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You were busy doing your thing last year. Shit happened you don’t know about.”

“My was wrestling. My was waking up at five to train. My was tracking everything I ate down to the crumb. My was nightly runs even when I was exhausted. Don’t act like I was off having fun. You know better.”

He drew his knee up on the bed, facing me fully. “I’m not fighting with you, Theo. I remember all that shit. My point stands. You weren’t around much freshman year, whether you were with Abby or training. So yeah, things changed, events occurred, don’t be surprised you weren’t kept apprised.”

My gut twisted. He knew he was not allowed to say that name. She was not to be mentioned in this house or in my presence.

I charged on. There was no way on earth I’d let Deacon know how much hearing her name still bothered me. But fuck, I was here, in this frat house, because of her. Every damn day I spent here was a reminder.

“I don’t know what you did to that girl but keep it out of the house. I don’t need to be dragged into your mire, Deac.”

He raised his chin. “You trying to tell me who I can fuck in my own house?”

“Nope. I’m telling you I don’t want to have to haul a girl off you so she doesn’t kick your ass. That’s what I’m telling you.”

He snorted a laugh. “That crazy bitch hit me with her skateboard. Shocked the shit out of me, no lie. That was the only way she got a swing in. She comes at me again, I’ll swing back. I have no qualms hitting a chick if she asks for it.”

I shook my head. “Don’t say shit like that to me.”

“Why?”

I threw my arms up. If it were up to me, I’d have nothing to do with Deacon Forrester. He’d call us friends. I wouldn’t. The more time I spent around him, the deeper my disdain grew. That was the thing, though. I was stuck with him, at least until I graduated. Our fathers were friends, and as much as it pained me, my father held a good deal of control over my life. I’d pissed him off enough last year. Rocking the boat wasn’t an option right now.

“Why? Why shouldn’t you talk about hitting women in front of me?”

He laughed. “Not women. A specific crazy bitch who hit me first. What, am I supposed to stand there and take it?”

“No. You’re supposed to not do shit that makes a woman whack you with her skateboard.” I slapped the jamb, done with this conversation. “I gotta go get a workout in.”

Deacon nodded, relaxing back into the pillows at his headboard. “Family dinner at the T tonight. You need to show.”

He didn’t mean either of our blood families. This was a frat dinner, unofficial, of course, since I wasn’t an actual member. It’d just be some of the guys in Deac’s inner circle, like Daniel. Some of them were decent, some weren’t. Like Daniel. The decent ones had me considering. Not spending the entire night locked in my room had me agreeing.

“All right. I’ll be there.”

“Close the door on your way out.”

I gladly slammed it shut.

The T was a diner in the heart of Savage River that had been there since the dawn of time. It was silver on the outside, sprawling and stuffed full of locals and university students on the inside. Our group took up two tables. Twelve guys got loud until they were fed. Our waitress brought our food out fast.

“So, Theo, what’s it like not prepping for a wrestling season?” Daniel was sitting across from me at the end of the booth.

I nodded to the burger I was about to take a bite out of. “It’s not bad.” Then I dug in, savoring every single fucking bite.

“You miss it?” The guy beside Daniel, Rohan, was one of the decent ones. When he asked questions, he was genuinely curious. Daniel…well, he always had an angle.

I swallowed and wiped my mouth. “In some ways. I’m still adjusting to the life of a noncollegiate athlete, to be honest.”

Daniel chuckled. “Are you getting soft?”

“Worried about my physique, Danny?” I bounced back. Rohan laughed. Daniel didn’t. He wasn’t much for humor.

“Just looking out for my pal, Theo.” His eyes narrowed on me. I didn’t let him bother me.

I’d known Daniel and Deacon since I moved from Las Vegas my senior year of high school to live with my dad in Malibu, California. I was shoved on them just as they were shoved on me, told we’d be friends—the “or else” heavily implied. Daniel had never liked me. I’d never liked him. Neither of us hid it back then, and nothing had changed now.

Taking another big bite of my burger, I leaned back in my seat and patted my stomach. I wasn’t getting soft, only because working out and doing it hard had been ingrained in my mind since I’d started wrestling in middle school. Dropping the sport didn’t mean I’d dropped the habit. I did eat now, though. Fuck, did I eat.

“I’m all good,” I said. “All good.”

A flash of red and then long, dark hair caught the corner of my eye. I turned in time to see the little tiger herself push through the diner exit into the night.

. What a sweet name for a girl who seemed anything but. I wondered what her parents had been thinking naming her that. Maybe it was wishful thinking, name her a grandma name and she’ll grow up to wear floral dresses and bake cookies.

Based on the two times I’d encountered her, I’d say they were disappointed if soft and sweet had been their goal.

Daniel kept talking, trying to dig at me, but I was through listening. I tossed the last of my burger on my plate and slid out of the booth.

“Left my phone in the car. I’ll be back.” I strode through the diner and into the parking lot. It was busy with people coming and going. Helen was nowhere in sight. I’d missed her, but if I had caught her, I wouldn’t know what to do with her.

She’d probably claw my eyes out.

. I chuckled to myself and headed toward my car. The brand-new BMW i8 my stepmom passed onto me over the summer when she decided she wanted something “more chic.” Driving it made me feel like a conspicuous asshole, but I needed wheels, so I dealt.

And when Deacon asked to do the driving, I always let him, allowing him to be the conspicuous asshole, which he didn’t mind. Plus, he gave a shit about keeping the car pristine, always parking on the far edge of lots so it didn’t get dented, washing it down after a drive—the kind of things I should’ve been doing.

He’d parked in the very corner of the lot, far, far away from the lights and other cars. As I approached, I heard the telltale sign of glass breaking. Through the shadows, I spotted a figure standing on the hood, swinging something down on the windshield.

A skateboard.

My feet stopped moving, stupefied at the sight of Helen, on top of my car, her long hair flowing behind her in the breeze, looking like an angel of vengeance. She swung her skateboard high, bringing it down on the windshield with a crash.

It was so crazy, such a ridiculously glorious scene, I barked a loud laugh.

She whirled, eyes wide, but not panicked. Our gazes locked, and that got me moving toward her. Why, I didn’t know yet. The second I moved, she did too, running to the edge of the hood. She was a step away from jumping off when I lunged, hooking my arms around her before she could escape.

“What’s going on, Little Tiger? Are you getting into trouble again?”

She squirmed, batting at my arms and kicking at my legs. Helen was small, but I felt the power in her fight. Her muscles bunched and pumped, fighting me furiously.

“Get off me, you creepy fuck.” She shoved hard at my arms, but I wasn’t letting go. Not yet.

“I just caught you destroying a car. Don’t you think I should be calling the cops?”

“This is Deacon’s car,” she gritted out. “If you knew what he owed me, you wouldn’t even think of calling the cops.”

“Wrong.” Taking a chance with my life, I dipped my head to speak close to her ear. “This is car. I let him drive sometimes.”

“Oh.” She went limp for a beat, then tipped her head back, showing me her face.

“Yeah, oh.”

“The company you keep, Theodore.”

“Theo. One day, you’re going to tell me what Deacon did.”

“No I’m not.”

In the light of the moon and a few stars, I looked her over. It wasn’t really bright enough to tell, but I knew her lips were crimson red. She painted them that way, and the red seemed to be a part of her.

Her thick, silky hair slid away from her face, down her back and over my arms. Even when she was snarling at me, Helen was strikingly beautiful. She had the kind of deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, sloped nose, and rounded chin that belonged in paintings from a different era. And holy Christ, was she sexy. Possibly unhinged, but sexy nonetheless.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.

“I’ve never seen a criminal this close up before.” I lowered my face so our noses were almost touching. “Didn’t know they came this hideous.”

She reached up, grazing her fingertips along my jaw. “You know, I’ve never seen a rich boy this close either. I didn’t know the aristocracy still inbred, but I see they do. You’re very ugly.”

Her tits were flattened against my chest, and each panting breath she took shoved them deeper into me. My cock throbbed behind my zipper, harder than I’d been in a long time. It was disconcerting to be so fucking aroused by the little criminal I’d caught. That didn’t stop me from pressing my dick against her.

Her red lips parted, and I felt her gasp and quick exhale across my mouth.

“Theodore,” she breathed.

That mouth was as red as a stop sign, but it flipped the switch on my inner bull. All I saw was a red flag, and there was nothing that could’ve stopped me from charging. Not logic. Not reason. Nothing.

I leaned in, touching my mouth to hers.

And then…nothing.

The little shit had slipped right out of my arms. By the time I realized what was happening, she was booking it down the sidewalk, leaving me there with a hard dick and her skateboard on the ground.

What the hell had I been thinking?

The girl massacred my car, and I tried to kiss her like she was my girlfriend.

With my hand on my forehead, I checked out the damage. Cracked windshield, busted headlights, dented hood. My dad was going to be displeased, and he was already displeased as hell with me.

I was fucked. But if I went down, I wasn’t going down alone. The next time I dealt with Helen, I’d remember exactly who she was. And who she wasn’t.