Sour Apples - Book cover

Sour Apples

Jeordie Draven

Fighter

“Lucas Foster, you son of a bitch! You fighting tonight?”

Lucas glared at Tim—the owner of the gym and boxing ring that Lucas frequented—like he’d lost his mind. “You fucking called me, asshole. I’m here to win too. Let these fuckers know to bet on me.”

Tim snorted. “Still a narcissistic bastard. The Army didn’t do you any favors.”

“Yeah? Fuck off,” Lucas snarled, turning his attention to his hands.

They were callused and worn, but ready to rumble. He’d fought his entire life and loved the rush—and he was good. So good that people bet on him every single time he stepped foot into the ring.

He took his shirt off and glanced over at Tim. “You just gonna watch me the whole time or what?”

“You up for this?” Tim asked.

“Don’t ask me about my personal business, Tim, you know better.”

Tim ran a hand over his bald head and sighed. Lucas Foster was a mean son of a bitch, and his life had taken a turn when he lost his wife and unborn child while on a tour in Iraq.

He had always been a rough and tumble guy, but that event, combined with his tours of duty, forced Lucas into a state of mental chaos, and people steered clear of him.

The guy was huge too. Six feet three, 250 pounds of pure muscle, and tatted up.

Lucas was a womanizer and had his fill of sex. Lots and lots of sex, but he didn’t believe in love anymore.

Sometimes, he questioned whether or not he really loved Lucy, his dead wife.

It’d been almost two decades since she and their son were ripped away from him while he was overseas, and he’d moved on all right—straight to the bottom of a million bottles of whiskey.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim reminded him, scurrying out of the locker room.

The crowd was going crazy, and it was all about him. This was his outlet—his release. After the fight, he’d find a woman, fuck her, leave her, and then drown himself in booze.

It was a good night already.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The Tornado!” Tim announced Lucas as he entered the ring.

The little guy bouncing around the other side of the ring made Lucas laugh, and he motioned Tim over to his corner.

“The fuck is this, Tim?”

“Your opponent. Don’t kill him.”

“I’ll try not to, but if I breathe too hard, I might.”

A glimpse of an auburn-haired girl in the crowd caught him off guard. Certainly someone like Layla Potter wouldn’t be at a seedy, shady, bloody place like this?

The sound of the bell snapped him out of his thoughts and he was back in the mode.

It took all but ten seconds to knock the other guy flat on his backside. Lucas watched as the medics were called into the ring to check on him—noting that he was okay and alert.

“The winner is Tornado!” Tim lifted up Lucas’s arm for a brief moment, but Lucas shrugged him off.

“I need a real fight, Tim,” Lucas said, escaping the ring without even breaking a sweat. “I swear you do this just to get me to win and make you money.”

“You’ll get a cut too, Foster.”

Lucas shook his head and scoured the crowd again for that auburn hair, but he couldn’t even locate a woman at that point.

“I got you, Lucas,” Tim said, rushing by him. “She’s in your locker room already.”

“She’d better be more of a challenge than that guy was,” Lucas said, following Tim into the locker room and eyeing the blonde standing before him—more than willing to take his cock for the night. “Oh yeah. She’ll do.”

Pleased with himself, Tim handed Lucas some money from the fight and left the two alone.

Lucas licked his lips, looking the hot woman up and down before approaching her.

“I hope you like it rough, darlin’, ’cause I don’t feel like playin’ nice.”

***

“I have no idea what you’re doing.” Gretchen watched as Layla tried on dress after dress after dress. “All of them look good on you so just pick one.”

“I can’t!” Layla huffed, going back into her friend’s closet. “I don’t wear this stuff. Can’t I just throw on some jeans and a nice blouse?”

“It’s a club, not church camp.” Gretchen rolled her eyes.

“I don’t have to look like I’m needy, Gretch.” Layla smiled. “I’m not looking to get laid.”

Gretchen toppled over onto the bed. “The way you talk about Paul and how prudish he is, maybe you should play the field.”

“It’s not all him. I don’t really like to experiment,” Layla confessed. “I’m shy.”

“Seven years is way too long to still be shy with this guy,” Gretchen told her. “Have him tie you up.”

Layla blushed. “Um, no…” She emerged from the closet. “What about the red one?”

“The red cocktail dress? Oh hell yes!” Gretchen approved. “And heels.”

“I would like not to break my neck this weekend.” Layla frowned.

“Heels! Heels! Heels!” Gretchen chanted.

“Okay, okay, okay…” Layla raised her hand to calm her friend. “If you promise to chill out, I will wear the heels.”

“Yesssss, queen!” Gretchen snapped her fingers. “This should be fun. Finally getting you out of the house and away from puke face.”

“Why don’t you like him?” Layla asked, frowning. “You used to.”

Gretchen put an arm around her friend and sighed. “Honey, you’ve got so much more potential than Paul ‘I Am Everything’ Gates. He used to be a sweetheart—a warrior and passionate. You said so yourself. He’s not even interested in fucking you the right way.”

Layla coughed. “The right way? I’m pretty sure we know how to—”

“No, no, no…” Gretchen shook her head and walked away again. “I mean with passion, heart, pounding into you like his life depended on it!”

“We’re passionate.”

“Uh-huh.” Gretchen scrolled her phone. “Oh! Earrings? We can both wear hoops! I’ve got a red pair for you, girl.”

Layla smiled at her best friend. She absolutely adored Gretchen. They had grown up in foster care together and had been separated for a time until fate brought them back together in eighth grade. They were inseparable now.

“Work’s good?” Layla asked her. “I haven’t gotten a ton of hours at the clinic, but I am working a double next week, so that’s exciting.”

Layla worked as a front desk administrative assistant at a local healthcare department, and she was always happy to help people. She’d started classes to become a crisis hotline dispatcher.

“Oh yeah!” Gretchen worked at a local plant nursery—she was majoring in botany. “My boss thinks that we all should work half our hours because he wants a ton of people on the payroll. I think he’s had some sort of weird layoff problem or people quitting and he wants to be secure. I don’t know. I enjoy it, but how weird is that?”

They continued getting ready, talking about boys and clubs, school and Lucas Foster. She’d no idea they’d even dropped into that conversation until Gretchen forced her out of her daydream.

“Wow—you went far, far away.” Gretchen giggled. “What was it like? Being chest to chest with him? Or when he had you in his grip?”

“Like I was being snuggled by a sexy steel bear.” Layla laughed. “He’s so intimidating and hateful, but I’m sure he just needs a friend.”

Gretchen laughed. “A friend? You’re too nice.”

“He’s probably just hiding some emotions that need to be set free, that’s all.”

“He’s a war vet who lost his wife and kid in childbirth and became a drunkard, womanizer, and a boxer.” Gretchen shrugged. “He’s a good farmer though. Helps out on all the ranches too.”

Layla knew he drove a delivery truck for the farmers in the area and had a small dairy farm of his own that was situated a few miles down from his house.

She also knew everything else, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t tell when someone just needed a big hug.

“You are truly the sweetest person I know.” Gretchen smiled, “Don’t let that be your downfall.”

***

“I love this place!” Gretchen yelled over the music as she and Layla entered the club.

“I cannot hear you!” Layla laughed, holding on to her friend like her life depended on it. “Don’t leave me alone!”

She and Gretchen walked around for a while, talking to a few of their friends—Lauren and Sylvia—who’d shown up there and were grabbing a drink. Layla didn’t drink, so she ordered a Shirley Temple.

“Are you looking to go home with someone?” Layla whispered to Gretchen as they stood together at the bar. “Just let me know so I don’t lose you.”

Gretchen laughed heartily. “You make me sound like a ho. I am not looking to, but if the opportunity arises…”

Layla rolled her eyes, but she smiled, surveying the club.

Club 2 was definitely on fire that night, but the scene just wasn’t Layla’s thing. She was happy to be out of the apartment and with her girlfriends on a nice, clear Friday night.

“Hey, I need to use the restroom.” Layla scowled. “Will you—”

She looked up and noticed that Gretchen was talking to a guy next to them, so instead of risking interrupting her night, Layla ran a hand along her friend’s shoulder to indicate she was going to the restroom.

Gretchen nodded and continued her conversation.

It was a bit of a line, but Layla got in, finished, freshened up and headed back out. She saw Gretchen, but the crowd made it hard for her to get back to the bar.

Layla shrugged, making sure her phone was on and ready as she made her way to the back patio to cool off.

“Hey, baby…” A tall man approached her as Layla lingered at the railing. “You sure are pretty.”

“Uh, thanks.” Layla pushed her hair behind her ears and blushed. “I have a boyfriend.”

The man chuckled. “Well, I have a girlfriend, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

She felt something brush up against her backside. Another man was flush up against her now and breathing down her neck. “Well, hello there, little lady.”

“Hi,” Layla said as the first man sandwiched her in between the two of them. “Look, I need to find my friend.”

“You wouldn’t have come out here if you really didn’t want to be seen,” the first man said. “Maybe you followed us?”

Layla shook her head. “N-no… Do I know you?”

“No, but you can get to know us,” the second man said, running his hand over her shoulder. She shrugged him off and tried to move away, but they both held her.

“Don’t do this, please,” Layla pleaded, “Just let me go.”

“I don’t know about that,” the first man said. “What do you think, Scott? Should we?”

“Well, Brent, I don’t fucking think so. All these bitches are teases. This one in particular.”

“I am not!” Layla pushed Brent off of her and tried to escape, but Scott grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back.

The patio wasn’t well lit, and she felt herself being dragged down onto a sofa in the corner.

“Stop! Stop!” She fought like hell but to no avail. They pinned her down and she screamed, but the music was so loud now and no one was coming outside—either that or no one cared.

Suddenly, she felt the weight of the men lifted from her. She had her eyes closed and was punching at air until someone grabbed her wrists and pulled her up into a seated position.

“Are you okay? Did these assholes hurt you?”

That voice. She knew it. Her eyes were still closed and her hair was covering her face.

“Lucas?”

She felt a hand move her hair gently out of the way.

“Fuck…it’s you.”

“I didn’t know you were a bouncer here,” Layla said as Lucas had someone bring her a cup of water.

Lucas huffed, standing before her. “I like to keep my life private, but you seem to keep weaseling your way into it.”

Layla sighed. “Thank you for—”

Lucas put a hand up as he watched Gretchen come to her friend’s side. “It’s my job. You’re nothing special.”

Gretchen’s olive skin was shimmering with a sheen of sweat from the club’s sweltering atmosphere. “Can you just take the thank you?” She turned to Layla. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Layla looked up at Lucas, who was still glaring at her.

“Let’s go home,” Gretchen said, standing.

“No, no…” Layla waved. “I’ll get a cab so you and sexy bar guy can have fun.”

Gretchen shook her head until Layla protested again. “Please? For me?”

Gretchen looked torn, but she nodded. “If you’re okay with it, but I am so sorry this happened to you.”

Lucas cleared his throat. “Call a cab and go.”

“Chill the fuck out, dude,” Gretchen scolded.

Layla stood up, avoiding Lucas’s gaze as she and Gretchen made their way to the front of the club. The attackers had been hauled off the property and Gretchen was worried they’d come back.

Lucas’s shift was over and he headed out, overhearing their conversation.

“Just stay with me until the cab gets here,” Layla begged. “I am going to my parents’. Paul decided to stay on campus for his projects.”

“Ugh, what a guy!” Gretchen waved to the man she’d been hanging out with. “My dude seems cool, but I doubt I’ll go home with him. Too stuffy.” She looked behind Layla, her eyes wide.

Layla whirled around and looked up at Lucas, still glaring down at her.

“I’ll take you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fucking dumb to pay for a cab when your parents live a mile away from me and I’m on my way home. Don’t thank me. Just hurry up.”

He stepped away before Layla could even provide an answer.

Gretchen nodded. “He’s a psycho, but even psychos aren’t this blunt.”

“Be safe.” Layla hugged her friend. “Text or call me, please.”

“And you.”

Lucas growled.

“You’re like a crack head bear. Stop being mean,” Gretchen growled back. “And take care of my friend.”

Lucas smiled. If only she knew how badly he wanted to take care of her friend.

They rode in silence for some time until Lucas began, “You need to be careful at these clubs. They’re not for folks like you.”

“Folks like me?”

“Too good for your own good.”

“How can you be too good?”

“Naive, stubborn, too fucking good.” Lucas chuckled. “Too fragile and delicate.”

“I’m sorry if you don’t like me, but I didn’t do anything wrong to you,” Layla said. “Are you always this angry?”

“Yes, actually.”

Layla crossed her arms. “Maybe you need therapy or religion or someone to talk to.”

“I’ll take advice from you when you’re paying my bills or letting me fuck your face.”

Layla sighed. “That’s nice, Lucas.” She rolled her eyes. “Real nice.”

“Maybe you need a real man over that lying pipsqueak you’re with.” Lucas pulled into her parents’ driveway.

“You’re entitled to your opinion, but my love life is my business,” she said, surprised when Lucas got out of the truck and held the door open for her.

She thanked him but didn’t let go of his hand. She wasn’t prepared for the gravel road and her choice of footwear.

“Looks like you have a dilemma.” Lucas grinned. “That’s gonna be a long walk in your bare feet.”

“Yeah.” Layla nodded, taking off her heels. “Unfortunately, my parents are asleep and I don’t have my gate key. I don’t want to wake them up… Ahhh!”

Before she knew it, Lucas had lifted her into his arms and was walking toward the locked gate at the edge of her parents’ property.

He lifted her over and settled her down on the ground and then joined her on the other side. Picking her up again, he cradled her in his arms and began walking toward the house.

“Why are you doing this?” Layla asked, her heart racing at the fact that Lucas was also inches away from touching every sensitive body part she had.

“Because you’ve already had bad luck once tonight, and I didn’t get arm day in at the gym.”

She laughed. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

When they made it to her parents’ porch, Lucas set her down and breathed in deeply.

“Thanks,” she said, biting her bottom lip. Damn, if this wasn’t her parents’ house, she’d be in so much trouble.

“Yep…” Lucas nodded, thinking that if this wasn’t her parents’ house, he’d get her into so much trouble.

“I’ll see you around.” Layla waved as she unlocked the front door.

Lucas pushed off the porch. “You’re annoying, so I hope not.”

“Goodnight, Lucas…,” she whispered.

“Yeah, yeah. If you say so.” He waved, not looking back.

“Don’t be a fool, Foster,” Lucas said as he climbed back into his truck. “Not with this one.”

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