The Federation

I rarely wandered around too much while Carter was up on stage; I loved watching him play. However, that night, I just didn’t feel like standing there like a good little girlfriend. It wouldn’t hurt for me to take a nice little stroll around the place. The worst thing I could encounter was some crazed fan who wanted to touch my hair or kiss my feet or something odd like that. Nobody said anything as I turned and walked down the narrow hallway leading to the stage.

As I walked, I counted the tiles on the floor. I’d reached 55, taking several turns as I did so, when suddenly I walked headlong into a fleshy body. I stumbled and lifted my head to find myself standing within punching distance of Jimmy. My fingers itched to clench together, but I restrained them. Finally, I could speak with Jimmy without anyone interrupting and whisking me away.

“Why do you keep acting like a five-year-old whose crayon I stole?” I snapped, glaring up into his bright blue eyes. “Why do you insist on fighting me?”

“I’m frustrated with you, that’s why!” Jimmy retorted. “You’re completely oblivious to Carter! He looks so fucking smug all the time, but you refuse to see this! I bet if you ask anyone else, they’ll say the same thing.”

“But you seem to be the only one with a problem,” I growled, hearing all I needed. So, Jimmy was still mad about the Carter thing. So be it. He could be a whiny bitch. Meanwhile, I would continue with my life.

But as I turned to leave, Jimmy grabbed my wrist and whirled me around. Before I could wrench it from his grasp, he seized my other wrist and slammed me back against the wall, pinning both of my wrists against the painted brick. He was so close I could smell his cologne. Involuntarily, I inhaled. He smelled way better than Carter. God, Asher, get a grip, girl.

“I’m not letting you run away,” Jimmy hissed. “You need to hear this. You need to realize. I know that Carter is up to no good. He is planning something—only God knows what—but I know it’s not good. This will not end well.”

“Fuck you,” I snarled, snapping a knee up to catch him in the crotch. So what if he wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week. I didn’t give a damn.

Jimmy snapped his legs closed, however, trapping my leg in between and stopping my advances to seriously wound both his ego and his manhood. I growled in the back of my throat and straightened out my leg. Then, I bent my leg at the knee again, violently shoving my heel hard against the back of Jimmy’s knee. His leg buckled out from underneath him, and he dropped to one knee. I raised my other knee and shoved it right into his lower abdomen. He finally released my wrists, and I disentangled myself from him, stepping backwards. Jimmy grabbed my ankle and yanked, and I fell down to the smooth tiled floor, ignoring the pain as the back of my head collided with the floor.

Jimmy launched himself at me. As he landed hard on top of me and slammed a punch hard into my stomach, nothing but shock registered. I couldn’t believe that Jimmy would ever think to hit me. But then I realized that I wasn’t just a defenseless guppy awash in the ocean. I had mad skills to defend myself, and Jimmy knew that. I stood a chance against him; oddly enough, this would be a fair fight.

With a loud shriek of anger, I swung my arm up and slapped Jimmy as hard as I could across the face, curving my fingers to catch my nails on his skin. I left four cuts on his cheek, and one smaller one running across his jaw line from my pinky nail. The force was enough to shift his weight to the side, and I quickly took it upon myself to roll us over so I was on top.

In the span of only a few seconds, Jimmy snapped upright into a sitting position and shoved me off of him. As he lunged for me again, I stuck out my foot and locked my knee so that his chest rammed hard into the sole of my shoe. He fell back as a tremor shivered up my leg from the force of him hitting my foot. I sprung at him, reeling back a fist.

Before I could actually hit him, a hand curled tightly around my wrist and an arm coiled around my waist, dragging me back away from Jimmy. I struggled and fought against the person as he pulled me upright, glaring through the red haze building in my vision at Jimmy, who was being hauled back much like I was by Brian.

I glanced down and instantly recognized the tattoos on the man’s arms as being Zacky’s. The red haze began to ebb away, and I relaxed slightly in Zacky’s arms. He pulled me away all the quicker, taking advantage of my sudden stillness. Jimmy glared at me as Brian pulled him back, farther and farther away from me. Words rolled up my throat and spurted from my lips.

“You’re dead to me, Jimmy!” I shrieked. “I HATE YOU!”

I must’ve imagined that I saw hurt in his eyes, and then Zacky dragged me around the corner.