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April 9 - April 10, 2025
I rule this school. Me and the other Devils—Dominique Price and Emilio Chavez.
He punches me in the shoulder. “We had a deal, remember? Football. That was what the three of us are supposed to be focusing on. No chicks. No more head games. We had an agreement, cabrón.”
One is a tall black guy wearing charcoal gray sweatpants, a plain white t-shirt, and rocking a pair of Beast Mode sneakers. Huh, a Marshawn Lynch fan. I can get behind that. Well, Marshawn Lynch when he went to the Raiders. I was never one for the Seahawks. He has full lips, and dark brown, wide-set eyes. His hair is braided tight against his head and he has two slashes through his left brow that I’m pretty sure were shaved into twin lines as opposed to being remnants of a scar.
Dom
He’s shorter than the first but still around six feet tall. He’s Hispanic like Roman and me but his eyes lift at the edges a bit more and his cheekbones are a little sharper. Not Mexican, I don’t think. Maybe Honduran. He’s the thinnest of the three but his arms are still wrapped in corded muscle. He just hasn’t filled out as much.
Emilio
I learn that Dom is the school’s quarterback. Roman plays wide receiver. And Emilio is
a cornerback.
These guys aren’t that different from my crew back home. Roman is a lot like Julio. The leader of the pack, though more brooding and definitely more of a player. Emilio has a carefree attitude like Felix. He’s quick with the jokes and always wears a comfortable smile. And Dom is the strong silent type like Gabe.
“He’s bad news, vanilla. Make sure you don’t ever get in a car with this one.” Emilio says.
He puts a hand out, silently asking for my phone. I frown, but what the heck? I hand it to him. He lifts the phone to his ear and says in a gruff voice, “Listen to her. Stop calling. Stop texting. You two are done. Got it?” “Who the fuck are you?” I hear Ryker bite out. “Your replacement.” Roman deadpans. He hands me back my phone after he ends the call.
chest
He chuckles and my annoyance spikes. “I call you vanilla because…” he trails off with a grin. I smack his chest lightly. “Come on.” His smile widens into the devilish smirk I’ve quickly grown accustomed to seeing on his face. He leans forward to whisper in my ear, “It’s my favorite flavor.”
Roman Valdez is like a drug and I’m desperate to get my fix, all the while praying I don’t develop an addiction after just one hit.
His lips find my ear and he says, “My pussy. Got that? For as long as I want it.”
I roll my eyes, not even bothering to pretend I didn’t fuck her brains out. Better for this asshole to learn now that she’s mine. Mine to use. Mine to fuck. He lost the game before he even had a chance to play. “Nothing she didn’t want.” I let my words sink in.
He worships my body and I drown in him. His taste. His touch. Breathing in the scent of sun, coriander, and musk that is uniquely him, it's as if I’ll die without him in my lungs.
“That shit happens again, you find me. Got it?” His dark brown eyes meet mine.
“That’s a dumb-ass question, vanilla. What do you mean, why?” He shakes his head and frowns at me. “I protect the people I care about.”
Dom is our captain and quarterback and all eyes are on him as we huddle up and run through the details of our first play.
Roman: You said you’d be here. Roman: After everything that’s happened will you at least let me know if you’re okay? Roman: Tracked down Kasey. She said you bailed for some phone call. Where are you?
Emilio: Way to fucking support our boy. Then another Roman: You know what, whatever. You do you.
Mom died. My boyfriend cheated. My boyfriend dumped me. My best girlfriend turned her back on me. I lost my home. I had to go to a new school in a new town. My dad never has time for me. I was ra… I force myself to finish the thought. I was raped.
He nods. “I tried calling you a few times but your phone kept going to voicemail. Then this chick calls me out of nowhere asking if I’d be willing to come here for a few days. See if I can help.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to see the pity or disgust I know must be in his gaze. If Julio looks at me differently… I can’t handle this anymore. “Allie. Babe. I love you. You are my best friend. Let me be here for you.”
Roman shoves through the cluster of officers, a severe-looking older man right behind him. A man I recognize. Oh shit! The man who found me that night. That’s Roman’s father? I can see the resemblance now.
I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. My girl was in danger. My girl.
“She was assaulted in the parking lot.” Wait. What? My chest seizes and my mouth drops open. “What do you mean, assaulted?” Was that why she wasn’t at my game? She’d been hurt? Fuck. She’d been hurt and I’d been a complete asshole. No wonder she didn’t message me back.
“It doesn’t matter. But she told the nurses about the assault when we got there. I rode in the ambulance with her. She had all the signs of a rape victim. Torn clothes. Bruises. All of it. But before the nurses could start the kit, some woman in a suit stormed in and tore out of there with her like she was on a mission. When me and another officer tried to confront her, she shut us down. The girl’s a minor. We couldn’t question her without parental consent and they weren’t giving it.”
She’d been in trouble today and she’d called Dom. Not me. I fucked up. She’s been hurt and I royally fucked up.
“Your hands are different,” I choke out. I gasp for breath and force more words past my lips. “The man who hurt me… I only saw his hands. I… Your hands are different. I know you won’t hurt me. I’m not saying Roman would. I know it doesn’t make sense but….” I give him a pleading look, begging with him to understand. Dom’s eyes tighten and he runs a hand over his tightly braided hair. “Your mind gets it but your body doesn’t.” He shakes his head. “It’s okay. I get it.”
He nods. “And with Roman and Emilio?” I shrug. “I think he was maybe Latino, too. I don’t know, but his hands, they were tan. Darker than mine. Like…” “Like theirs.”
“The guy who’s been with you all week—?” Dominique doesn’t finish but I know what he’s asking. “Like a brother. I’ve known him since grade school. And he has tattoos.” I trace the back of my hand. “They cover the tops of his hands. A skull and roses… rosary beads…” I say all of this hoping he understands.
My eyes stray to his clenched fists and I notice that he’s still wearing my bracelet. The one I gave him before the game. I try not to read into it but does that mean— “Allie, baby.” His voice is raw. “I never—” His voice cracks and he looks away. “I fucked up. I thought some things and they weren’t true and I wasn’t there when you needed me.” He turns back to me and I can see the despair in his eyes. “I messed up. But I’m here now. I want to be there for you. You have to let me be there.”
“I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.” He takes a tentative step forward and I jerk away. He stops and offers me a sad smile. “I would never hurt you. You’ve gotta know that.” “Wouldn’t you?” My own voice cracks as the words spill out on their own.
Roman’s face falls. He rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t know. If I’d known I never would have… Allie, I never meant…” “But you never asked.” Tears fall freely down my cheeks. I don’t even bother to wipe them away. I want him to see them. I want him to see every ugly broken thing about me and know he had a part in it. I want him to hurt the same way he made me hurt. Because just like Ryker, he left me. Right when I needed him the most. “I tried to talk to you. That first day I came back to school. As soon as I saw you, I walked straight up to you
...more
Anguish fills his gaze, but I can’t find it in me to hold back. “You called me a whore.”
“Then help me talk to her. She doesn’t feel comfortable with me.” He snorts and the urge to punch him in his smug face is strong, but I ignore it. “I care about her. I want to be there for her. Help me talk to her and I’ll forget what happened. We’ll wipe the slate clean.” He considers this. It’s no secret I hate him. I’ve hated him since junior year. He used to be my friend. We were like brothers. All four of us. But then he had to go and fuck it all up.
the fucker did drugs. None of us knew. He hid his addiction because he knew what we’d say about it, and on the way up to Shadle Creek, high as a fucking kite on coke, he hit a truck head-on. We were in a WRX. His first one, not the one he drives now. The force of the impact sent Emilio shooting out the window and broke Dominique’s arm in two places. He had to have surgery to repair the break and spent all summer in a cast. It could have ended his chances of playing football and we all could have died. Emilio surprisingly came out the least scathed. Scrapes and bruises. A concussion, but
...more
Roman calls me now. All of the Devils do. Emilio sends me a joke each morning. Or a funny meme he found online. He wants to make me smile. And while I appreciate the gesture, it’s a lot to take in. The sudden shift in their behaviors. One second they hate me. Now it’s like they’re smothering me in distant affection.
Dominique is the only one I talk to at school. He sometimes walks me to class when Aaron isn’t around. He makes sure no one gets too close. I didn’t ask him to play guard dog, and when I told him as much, he just gave me this serious stare and carried on like I hadn’t said anything. I’ve learned not to push. If he wants to make himself late to class each day, that's his prerogative. Roman messages me each morning. A variation of good morning, beautiful, and calls me every night.
“I know you said hands were a thing for you. So, I, ah…” He raises his hands so the tops of them face me. He’s painted his nails an inky black and has a gold band on his left thumb and another on his right-hand middle finger. “I was hoping this might make a difference for you.” He shrugs again with an almost sheepish expression on his face, and I can’t help but smile as I take in what he’s done, focusing on his nail beds and the jewelry.
I give him a tentative smile. “You going to wear nail polish all the time now? It might mess with your player status both on and off the field.” He smirks. “I think the black makes me look cool. I’m going for that whole emo-rocker look with some Latino flare.” “Ah, is that where the gold comes in?”
“This sucks. You’re pissed off because you know you fucked up. You had a good thing going and she got hurt.” I open my mouth but he cuts me off. “But you’re still not getting it Rome. She got hurt. Her. Not you. You don’t get to be pissed off at her or anyone else because you’re a jealous asshole used to getting his way. She deserves better than that.”
“This isn’t about you. Not what you want or what you think you need. If you want to get her back then stop being a selfish prick and realize this is about her. What she wants and what she needs. That’s all that should matter right now.” I work my jaw. The asshole is right and I hate it.
An idea forming in my head and suddenly, I know what I have to do now. I push to my feet and head for the door. “Where are you going?” “Out.” “What do you mean, out? We have class." I shake my head. “I’m skipping. I have something I need to do. Just—” I pause. “Watch out for my girl.”
I nod. I explained to Henry what the tattoos meant, it’s not every day a guy walks in asking for what I’m after, and the explanation only cements his belief that this is stupid. But that’s okay. This girl is it for me. She’s not just my beginning, she’s my end. I’ve been fucking around and going through the girls in this town one right after the other until she showed up. That had worked for me these last few years. I never wanted more than one night with any of them. But with Allie, I don’t want just one night. I need more. I need her every day. For all of the days that are to come. She’s the
...more
On his left, he has an anchor surrounded in a sea of crashing waves that covers the entire top of his hand.
“Why an anchor?” I’m whispering and have no idea why. “Because when you’re adrift, when you can’t find your way to shore, I want to be the one who steadies you.” My heart seizes in my chest. “You got this for me?” I ask, dumbfounded. His smile is hopeful. “I don’t understand,” I say. “This is permanent, Roman. You didn’t have—” He cuts me off. “I did, Allie. I need you to see how important you are to me. How much you matter and how incredibly sorry I am. I just… I want a second chance. To do everything the right way. To treat you like you deserve to be treated.”
“It’s a vanilla planifolia.” At my confused expression he adds, “Mexican vanilla.” I gasp, dropping his hands.
“Because you’re worth it. You’re worth all of it. All the fighting, the pain, the feelings. You make me fucking feel, Allie.” He slaps a hand on his chest right over his heart. “Right here. You made my ice-cold heart beat, and it only wants to beat for one person. You. Only you. I don’t just want you. I fucking need you.” He steps forward and presses his forehead against mine, cupping my face in his strong inked hands and I close my eyes, breathing him in. Fighting through the fear of being close to a boy I’m not sure I can trust. “Alejandra Ramirez, I need you in my life.”
“Roman, I can’t lose a—” “You won’t,” he says with conviction. “You fucking won’t. I can promise you that. I don’t know how to do this whole relationship thing. I’m learning as I go here. But I won’t ever turn my back on you like that again. Never, Allie. Just give me this chance. One more chance. I won’t mess it up.”
