6. Choose
1481 Words
Blake lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, mind far from still.
Her eyes.
Her lips.
Her hips.
He groaned, rolling onto his side. She probably didn’t even remember him, but he’d known her—if only for a little while.
He closed his eyes, trying to distract himself. It didn’t work. Her fierce eyes blazed through his thoughts, each memory burning hotter than the last.
She even looks good angry.
A sharp breath hissed through his teeth. He didn’t know when it started—how his glances became lingering stares, or how a random girl had turned into the girl.
Lisa.
The door slammed open, dragging him back to reality. Cassie, his little sister, bounded in with her trademark ponytail and cheeky grin.
“Good afternoon, big brother!” she sang, launching herself onto the bed.
“You’re back already?” he asked, catching her mid-air and settling her beside him.
She flopped into his lap, giggling.
A soft knock followed. One of the maids peeked in. “Young Master Blake, can I come get the young miss?”
Blake looked at Cassie’s pout. “Go change first, then you can come back.”
She crossed her arms. “You're never home when I get back from school.”
“Well, I’m here now,” he replied, ruffling her hair.
“Where’s Brother Matt?”
“Still working.”
“I’m going out with him today!” she declared proudly, flashing her pearly teeth.
Blake smirked. “And that makes you happy?”
“Of course! He dropped me at school last Friday and I told everyone he’s my boyfriend!”
Blake sat up, shocked. “Cassie Carter! Who told you about boyfriends?”
“All my friends have one. Jane, Amy, and Annabel. No one thinks you're a big girl if you don’t.”
Blake narrowed his eyes. “And who told you what a boyfriend is?”
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Brother Matt said… a boyfriend buys you chocolates, ice cream, and teddies.”
Blake laughed. The mental image of Matt being grilled by a six-year-old was priceless.
“So Matt’s your boyfriend now?”
“He buys me more ice cream than you do!”
“Wow, so you’re picking him over me?” Blake gasped, feigning heartbreak.
“Of course. I have a boyfriend, but you don’t even have a girlfriend,” she teased, stuck her tongue out, and ran out.
Blake smiled at the empty doorway.
But that last line lingered.
You don’t even have a girlfriend.
He stood and crossed to the window, hands in his pockets, eyes distant.
“I should find out where she’s living…”
THE CLUB
The music was deafening. Lisa frowned as the bass pulsed through her chest.
How the hell is anyone supposed to enjoy dancing when their eardrums are getting murdered?
She pushed through the sweaty crowd, eyes scanning the blur of dancing bodies. Her dress clung like second skin, her milky thighs exposed under dim lights. Long brown curls flowed down her back, swaying in rhythm with her hips.
“C’mon, hottie, dance with me.” A blonde-haired guy blocked her path, clearly drunk and stupid.
“Get out of my way,” she snapped, voice laced with disgust.
But he didn’t get the message. He reached out, hand brushing her waist.
Wrong move.
Her heel slammed onto his foot, merciless.
“Ouch!” he howled—but the blaring music swallowed his cry.
Lisa hissed and shoved him aside. He stumbled, glanced at her face, and wisely vanished into the crowd.
She resumed scanning for Josie. No sign of her. With a sharp turn, she made her way to the bar.
“Hi, gorgeous,” the bartender greeted with a sleazy grin.
Lisa ignored him, sliding onto the stool. “Just give me a shot of tequila.”
The bartender handed it over. “Why so grumpy, ma’am?”
She downed it in one go.
He leaned in quickly, lowering his voice. “That girl you usually come in with—the crazy dancer?”
Lisa’s ears perked.
“I think someone spiked her drink. She was led into the men’s bathroom like ten minutes ago… three guys.”
“Ten minutes?” Lisa’s stomach twisted. Too long.
She bolted off the stool, pushing through the mass of bodies toward the men’s restroom.
The bartender exhaled, pouring himself a shot.
Inside, Lisa burst through the door, heels clicking against tile.
A guy stood with his back to her, slipping off his jacket. He looked oddly familiar. In front of him, slumped and clearly drunk, was Josie—her dress ripped, arm bruised.
Rage spiked.
“What the f**k do you think you’re doing, taking advantage of a drunk girl?!”
Without hesitation, Lisa kicked him square in the back with her heel. He went down hard, head slamming the wall before he collapsed.
She stepped forward, face twisted in fury—then froze.
Blake Carter.
She stared in horror at his motionless body, her breath catching.
Josie murmured something faintly. “He… he saved me… from those guys…”
Lisa’s mind reeled.
A while ago, Blake had noticed some guys messing with Josie’s drink. At first, he didn’t want to get involved—but then he remembered she was Lisa’s friend. He stepped in, but by then her dress had already been torn. He’d taken off his jacket to cover her.
And Lisa had just knocked him unconscious.
“s**t,” she muttered, guilt slamming into her. I really messed up.
“Lisa… I’m sorry,” Josie whispered before passing out.
Blake was still, his face pale, lips dark and dry. A bump swelled on his forehead.
Lisa dropped beside him and gently placed her head against his chest. A heartbeat—faint, but steady.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone and dialed Avery.
It rang once.
“Lisa?” Avery’s voice came through.
“Avery, I need your help. Come to the club—our usual spot. It’s urgent.”
She explained in a rush, then locked the men’s room door and waited. Her arms were crossed, but her face was lined with guilt, frustration, and lingering anger—mostly at herself.
A knock startled her.
Avery’s voice followed.
Lisa opened the door, stepping aside. Avery entered and froze when she saw Blake.
“What are you going to do about him?” she asked.
“That’s the problem,” Lisa said, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t know. I really screwed up this time.”
“I called Matt. Maybe we’ll just get him back to treat him,” Avery said, trying to keep things light. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all. Just breathe, okay?”
Lisa nodded.
“I’ll take Josie home,” Avery continued, crouching beside her. Josie mumbled incoherently as Avery helped her up.
“Thanks. Be careful.”
“You too.”
Lisa locked the door behind them.
---
The door burst open again—this time harder.
Ethan stormed in, dropping beside Blake without a word. His fingers checked his pulse, hovered over his head.
“He’s breathing,” Lisa said quietly, picking her phone off the floor.
Ethan’s eyes snapped up—cold and furious.
“Really? You crazy woman! I should have you arrested for assault!”
Lisa flinched, but recovered quickly. “I thought he was assaulting my friend…”
Ethan scoffed, eyes blazing. “With that face?” He pointed at Blake. “He doesn’t need to assault anyone, okay? Girls basically throw themselves at him.”
Lisa clenched her jaw. “I said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” Ethan sneered. “You almost cracked his skull.”
She bit her tongue, resisting the urge to fire back with sarcasm. He was right—and that annoyed her even more.
Ethan stood and lifted Blake into his arms. His body was limp, head lolling.
“Where do you live?” he asked Lisa, not even looking at her.
“Why?”
He finally looked her over, disgust in his expression. “Dressed like that in a club… what did you expect? Drunk guys to offer you tea?”
“Shut up,” she snapped.
“Where do you live?” he repeated, voice harder.
“Why the hell do you care?”
“Because you almost killed him,” Ethan hissed. “You’re going to be responsible.”
Lisa stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”
“You’ve hurt him what—three, four times now?”
“Which were all his fault,” she said firmly.
Ethan spun around. “Look, crazy pants. Either give me your address, or I’m calling the cops.”
Lisa narrowed her eyes. “You’re bluffing.”
“Your choice.”
- Writer
