The Reunion

"Get back here, you little bitch," George yelled as he half ran, half walked around the front of his car in an angry beeline for latest conquest that was bound and determined to get away from him. He didn't care who they were, no girl had ever rejected him in the past and no girl was going to start now, he always got what he wanted. He caught up with her before she even made it half way to the restaurant's side door and grabbed hold of her bare arm in a vice-like hold with his left hand, yanking her off balance and back towards him. When she shrieked and looked up at him, he raised his right hand and backhanded her hard across the face, her head snapping to the side under the force of his blow. She screamed in pain as his heavy class ring hit her cheekbone hard and he dragged her, dazed, along behind him towards his car.

From across the lot, Zeke caught a glimpse of Cate's terrified expression under the bright overhead lights right before the back of George's hand connected with her cheek, her painful cry tearing through his heart and the night. Nothing pissed him off more than when a chicken-shit excuse of a man hit a defenseless woman and when that woman just happened to be Cate, he went from pissed off to fully enraged. His better judgment told him to not get involved but he couldn't just sit idly by while that piece of shit football player physically overpowered his Cate.

His jaw clenched and he dropped the last of his burger down to the table as he bolted to his feet, stepping over the fixed seat of the table. His long, angry strides ate up the asphalt as he hurried across the parking lot to come to Cate's rescue as she was roughly and unwillingly pulled across the parking lot towards the waiting car. He shoved his hair out of his face as his eyes narrowed, focusing on George just as he raised his hand to hit her a second time. "Let her go!" he ordered as he stepped over the two-foot wide cement curb that divided the parking slots.

Cate struggled against George's hold, trying to get her arm out of his tight grip but his fingers were digging hard into the soft flesh of her upper arm. She sucked in her breath when he raised his hand to hit her again and the sound of a familiar yet unexpected voice made his hand stop in mid-air and she turned her head, looking at Zeke as he came barreling towards her, his intense gaze focused on the person holding her against her will. He was the last person she ever expected to see in this part of town and she was never happier to see him than right now, even if he was despised by everyone else. She struggled even harder against George's hold, trying desperately to get away from him. "Zeke," she sobbed, her voice shaking with fear as she stared up at him with a helpless look on her face, her forget-me-not blue eyes full of tears.

George dug his fingers deeper into Cate's arm and she yelped in pain, quickly putting a halt to her struggling and her plea for help from someone who just needed to get the hell out of town. He glared at his rival classmate over the top of her head. He was nothing more than a troublemaker that just needed to learn to keep his nose out of places it didn't belong before it got broken, especially when he set his eyes on girls who had more class and money then he could ever dream about or even stood a chance with. "This is none of your business, Nicholls," he said. "Why don't you get on your bike and go back over the tracks where your kind belongs."

Zeke looked down at Cate. Her blue eyes were wide and full of tears and a small trickle of blood was running down her cheek where the asshole's ring had cut her skin. His anger mounted even more when he saw just how tight of a grip the other guy had on her arm, his fingertips making deep indentations in her soft flesh that was sure to leave bruises. He also didn't miss the torn neck of her tank top or the swell of one small breast above the edge of her lacy pink bra. This wasn't George's first attempt at overpowering her tonight but it was going to be his last. He could insult him all he wanted, his skin was thick enough, but he wasn't leaving until he knew Cate was safe and she wasn't going to be as long as she was around this asshole. He struggled to control his temper, his fingers nervously twitching and flexing at his sides as he glared at George. "I'm making it my business. Let her go right now."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a sly smile. "And if I don't," George said, provoking him as he tightened his grip on Cate's arm until she yelped in pain. He didn't take orders from anyone, especially from someone that was nothing but a punk, a worthless piece of dog shit that just stunk up the town. Maybe it was time that someone finally knocked him back down to where he belonged since he was having a hard time finding his way home and he was just the guy to do it, he threw a punch like he threw a football, hard and with a good follow through.

"You'll find out exactly what my kind is capable of," Zeke swore, watching him, waiting for him to take the first swing as he sized up his opponent. George was four inches taller than him but he outweighed him by at least fifteen pounds of muscle and his muscles were all earned from hard manual labor not throwing a ball around with a bunch of other little boys. Ever since he had turned twelve, he'd been in his fair share of fist fights and back alley brawls with guys bigger than him, and even though he never started a single fight, he made damn sure he finished them. If this asshole wanted a fight, he would give him one and he was a better punching bag that Cate. He fought back with a vengeance. George wasn't showing any signs of letting go of Cate's arm anytime soon and he slowly drew his hands up into tight fists as his jaw clenched. He was going to have to physically remove his hands from her. "I'm not going to tell you a third time."

George saw the look of pure fury on Zeke's face, the fire burning in his coffee-brown eyes and it was right then and there that he suddenly realized that the other guy had a hard-on for his girl. Zeke wasn't going to get her hands on her tonight or any other night; he was going to make sure of that. He let go of Cate, shoving her to the asphalt with a yelp of pain as he doubled up his right fist and took a hard swing at Zeke, his fist connecting with–nothing but air.

Zeke saw George's eyes narrow and, as he pushed Cate to the ground as a futile distraction tactic, he drew back his fist to hit him. Zeke was quick to react and he ducked just as George swung and he drove his right fist hard into George's gut, knocking the wind out of him with a startled grunt, and he slammed his left fist even harder into his chin with a sharp uppercut, following through with a powerful bone-cracking right hook to his jaw that snapped his head to the side, bloody saliva spraying out of his mouth, spattering across his forehead as he went down like a sack of potatoes.

George staggered backwards under the unexpected force of Zeke's blows, his shoulders coming to rest against the cement pillar that supported the drive-in's roof, keeping him from hitting the ground beside Cate who had scooted backwards. He stared, dizzily, at Zeke as everything spun in front of his eyes as he tried to regain his balance. His stomach was sore, his head was reeling and his jaw felt like it had just been dislocated and he brought the back of his hand up, wiping away the blood that was trickling out of the corner of his mouth. He never anticipated that his punches would be that hard, but then again blind rage and unrequited love was fueling his need to prove himself as Alpha male in front of the intended female, but he was the stud in this town, not this long-haired hooligan. He spit out his broken molar along with a mouthful of blood and glared at Zeke. "You fuckin' asshole. You broke my tooth," he yelled at him. His eyes narrowed and his lips drew back over his remaining teeth covered with a thin film of blood in an angry snarl as he lunged for Zeke, running towards him.

Zeke shoved his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face as his eyes narrowed, never leaving George even though he was more concerned about Cate who had scooted back to a safe distance than this chicken shit that didn't know when to give up, but he didn't dare take his eyes off of him. And it was a good thing that he didn't. When he came barreling towards him in an attempt to knock him off his feet, Zeke's drawn back fist connected sharply with the bridge of his nose and he brought his leg up to kick him as hard as he could in the knee, his heavy motorcycle boot connecting with his unprotected patella, and this time he did go down like a sack of potatoes, a bloody and broken sack that was screaming like a girl and writhing in pain from his fractured knee and busted nose. He just was not going to learn.

Zeke drew in a deep breath and let it back out as he bent over and grabbed a fistful of George's polo shirt and hauled him to his good foot only to take three running steps and slam him, right shoulder first, into the cement pillar, his gut-wrenching and painful scream piercing his ears. He pulled George upright and slammed his back hard into the support, holding him there with a muscled forearm across his throat as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a switchblade knife, flipping the blade open with a push of a button. He watched in satisfaction as all the color drained from George's face.

Zeke's face was only a few millimeters from his as he glared at him with cold brown eyes, his nostrils flaring with every inhale, his hot breath hissing out through his gritted teeth with every exhale as his blood roared in his ears. Blind-rage coursed through his veins and it took every ounce of willpower that he could muster to keep from breaking the remaining bones in George's body along with the rest of his teeth but he'd had enough; blood was pouring out of his nose and dripping off of his chin, bloody bubbles coming out of his parted lips as he struggled to catch his breath. But he had a feeling that he still hadn't gotten his point across.

"You're a prick," he hissed as he drew in several deep breaths in a futile attempt to calm himself. He brought the knife up and he saw George's eyes shift momentarily from his to the steel blade, the overhead lights glinting off the shiny metal, as he brought it even closer to his face, pressing the razor-sharp edge against his cheek hard enough to leave a red mark but not hard enough to break the skin, the point a few centimeters from his eye socket. The other man's wide-eyed gaze shifted back to him. He rocked the sharp blade against his cheek, staring him right in the eyes. His voice was cool, his words precise. "If you ever touch Cate again, I will gut you like the vile snake that you are and piss on your dead corpse. And don't think for one second that I won't hunt you down whether it is tomorrow or twenty-five years from now. I will find you. Do I make myself clear?"

When the razor-sharp edge of the knife pressed into his cheek, George knew he had picked a fight with the wrong guy and he feared that he was going to leave him with a scar on the side of his face; his nose, tooth and knee were already broken and possibly his jaw and clavicle. He tried to stay upright, all of his weight was resting on one leg and every time he felt himself slide a scant millimeter down the pillar, he felt the sharpened blade dig into his cheek, the point getting closer and closer to his eye.

George tried to control his breathing, but his breaths were coming quick and hard and he felt his Adam's apple bob against the strong, muscular forearm pressed tight against his throat as he swallowed and choked on the blood that was staring to fill his mouth. He felt the warm, steady stream of urine run down his leg as he pissed himself right there in front of Cate. He stared, unblinking, at his fellow classmate that held his life in his very hands, watching as his brown eyes darkened with rage... Or was it superiority because he had just been defeated and utterly humiliated in front of the girl he now knew he never had a chance with. "Cr-cr-crys-tal."

"Good," Zeke said, lifting the knife away from his face and folding the blade back down as he slowly released the pressure of his arm against the other man's throat. He took a step back from him and watched as George sagged back against the cement pillar, utterly defeated. He could smell the pungent stench of urine and he smiled to himself. This wasn't the first time he had made another person piss themselves. He was no longer the get-any-girl-he-wanted-big-shot-star-quarterback; he was a pathetic, weak loser and hopefully he would think twice about ever hitting a female again. And then, just to make sure he got his point across, he brought his knee up hard between the other man's legs, driving his testicles back up into his pelvic girdle. "I'm glad we understand each other," he said as George collapsed to the asphalt at his feet with a long drawn out, pain-filled groan. He looked down at his rival classmate as he writhed in excruciating pain and clutched what was left of his manhood, which wasn't much to begin with in the first place.

Zeke shoved his fingers through his hair, took one last look at George and turned on his heel, walking back over to where he had left his motorcycle parked along the curb. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, his knuckles were bloody and bruised and the throbbing pain in his hands was well worth the beating he had given the piece of shit slimeball. The only thing that stopped him from doing any further damage to the guy was the thought, as fleeting as it was at the moment, that Cate was watching him. He grabbed his leather jacket that he had flung over the seat and pulled it on, zipping it up. He threw his leg over the seat and sat down, pushing his hair back from his face before he pulled on his helmet and fastened the chin strap. He tugged his leather gloves on and started the engine, feeling the heavy vibration of the Harley's engine between his splayed thighs as he stared across the parking lot at Cate who was huddled next to a cement pillar and trembling like a scared kitten.

Now was his chance, his golden opportunity to finally get the girl of his dreams, but his kind didn't associate with hers. They just came to their rescue and bowed out gracefully before more trouble could fall upon them and he would be a chicken shit to not take the risk even if the consequences were worse than the beating he had just inflicted on the one person who actually stood a chance with her. Leaving her here would be the right and wrong thing to do, there were already a lot of people that despised him, he didn't need even more and her family was the type that didn't forgive let alone forget. He revved the engine, took one last look at Cate, and slapped the visor down over his eyes. Fuck it; she could call someone to pick her up.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cate yelped in pain as she was shoved to the ground, her butt connecting directly with the hard asphalt and she rubbed her sore arm where's George's fingers had dug into her flesh, she was going to have to wear long– She quickly sucked in a lung's full of air when her good-for-nothing date took a swing at her knight in shining armor that just happened to ride a black and chrome motorcycle, his fist connecting with nothing but air. She quickly scooted backwards as Zeke's series of three well-placed punches sent George staggering towards her but he landed against the cement support pillar with a hard grunt instead and she scrambled to her feet, moving to a safe distance at the other end of the parking bay, standing as close as she could to the other pillar, watching helplessly. She knew that she should call the police but she was too terrified to move; besides Zeke would get arrested for assault and frankly, George was getting what he deserved.

She didn't know why she had said yes when George asked her to the Memorial Day festivities, she had to blow off her friends to go with him and her better judgment told her not to, but he was the star quarterback and she had been floating on cloud nine ever since he had asked her. The day had been going fine and she was having a good time, playing tag football with three of his other teammates and their girlfriends in the park and laughing over chili dogs and Cokes.

Later that night, when his friends went different directions to be alone with their respective girlfriends and they drove to the old log pond to watch the sun set, she should have known something wasn't right and it sure as hell wasn't. His kiss was rough, his hands even rougher as he groped her breast through her tank top and shoved his hand down between her thighs, gripping her denim covered crotch hard as she struggled against him, trying to fight him off. She finally got him to release his hold when she dug her thumb as hard as she could into his eye socket and she demanded right then and there that he take her home.

When he didn't turn at the street that connected onto the one she lived on, she did the stupidest and smartest thing she could think of at the moment; she grabbed the steering wheel and yanked it hard, the front end of the Mustang bouncing over the curb of the drive-in's parking lot and as soon as the car started to slow down, she heaved the heavy door open and scrambled out to run far, far away from George. She never expected Zeke to be at the drive-in but she was glad that he was and now George was getting the shit beat out of him by the guy she hoped would have asked her to the festivities.

Cate pressed her body to the cement pillar, looking around it at the bare-knuckle fist fight that was transpiring before her very eyes entirely to protect her honor and George didn't stand a chance against his opponent. He was out muscled and clearly out-smarted by the town's badass. She laughed to herself when he spit out his broken tooth, served him right, and she opened her mouth to warn Zeke, who's long hair was obstructing his view, when George came barreling towards him but he had pushed his hair out of his eyes just in time and he broke his nose with one nicely executed jab and if that wasn't enough to send him to the ground, the motorcycle boot to his knee did the trick. She had heard of guys screaming like little girls when they had been injured but she had never really heard it for herself until now. And it was downright funny.

She slowly drew her bottom lip into her mouth, watching the finely sculpted muscles of Zeke's back flex and contract under the soft cotton of his T-shirt that was pulled taut over his back as he bent down to pull George to his feet, or rather his foot, salivating at the sight of his strong biceps as he hefted the other man's weight and– She sucked in her breath, wincing when George's throwing shoulder was slammed into the cement pillar, his agonizing scream tearing through the night as his football career was just flushed down the toilet at the hands of Zeke. The beating had gotten out of hand, blood was pouring out of George's nose and he was struggling against the strong, muscular forearm pressed tight against his throat and she feared that if she didn't stop it and soon, it was going to escalate to the point of her seeing Zeke behind steel bars.

She opened her mouth to scream "stop it" but when she saw the overhead lights glint off the steel blade of the knife in Zeke's hand nothing would come out, her heart had leapt into her throat, cutting off her ability to breathe. She swallowed hard, trying to push her heart back down where it belonged as she just stared at her knife-wielding savior that was breathing on the bloodied face of her attacker. He wouldn't cut him, give him a scar like the one that he had on his face, would he? She closed her eyes and turned her face into the pillar, refusing to watch as Zeke carved a reminder into his face but his consequential threat made her open her eyes, made her take a long, hard look at Zeke.