Chapter 69: Chapter 69
The guy was fat, late forties, with greasy hair plastered to his head. He had Tessa by the hair, forcing her down to her knees. Grocery bags littered the hallway floor—tomatoes and carrots rolling everywhere.
"Fucking hell..." My head swam, fever blurring the world. "Let her go, you piece of shit!"
He sneered. "Who’s this? Knight of the sluts?"
He shoved Tessa aside and came at me. Jasmine grabbed my arm, trying to hold me back, but he was already in my face.
The punch cracked across my cheek before I could raise a hand. I went down hard.
Then his boot smashed into my skull like I was a fucking soccer ball. My vision went white, spinning, breath knocked from my lungs.
"Ogh... shit..." I croaked.
"Let me go!" Jasmine screamed as he grabbed her.
I forced myself up, lunged, and dragged him down with me. We hit the ground, and he scrambled on top of me, straddling my stomach. His fist rammed into my throat. Who the fuck punches there?
I gagged, coughing, the air cut off. He yanked me up by the collar and slammed another punch into my face—my skull bounced off the floor.
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Quest Available
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Title: Defend
Task: Beat him up
Reward: 45 EXP
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Accept Quest? [Yes] [No]
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Adrenaline surged through me. I shoved him off, rolling us over. This time I was on top, my hands clamping around his throat, veins bulging at my temple as I squeezed.
"You’re gonna kill him!" Tessa shouted. "Stop!"
Maybe she was right. My fevered brain didn’t give a shit—I wasn’t thinking about murder, not a psycho here though, just shutting him up until he went limp.
But Jasmine and Tessa grabbed me, yanking me backward. That gave him the opening. He scrambled up, staggered, then drove his fist into my face one last time. The world went black.
When I blinked back awake, his voice dripped above me.
"Not worth my time." He spat on me, kicked my ribs, then stormed off down the stairs.
I groaned, rolling to the side. Through blurry vision I caught Kim and Tom at the stairwell, frozen, watching everything with pale faces.
"Man..." I muttered, clutching my head. "Why’d you two hold me back?"
"Because he turned purple!" Jasmine shouted, shaking with fury. "You were going to kill him!"
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QUEST FAILED
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Title: Defend
Task: Beat him up
Reward: 45 EXP
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Result: He ran off.
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Jasmine hooked her arms under mine, Tessa bracing the other side, and with a grunt I managed to rise. My knees shook like they didn’t belong to me. The fever already had me half-gone, and now with the pounding in my head, the bruises swelling, the blood dripping down to my shirt—I felt like a puppet being yanked upright by strings that could snap any second.
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EVENT
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Jasmine’s Interest +7
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I leaned heavy into them, each step dragging. My breath came out ragged, chest tightening, throat raw from where that bastard’s fist had landed. When we finally made it inside Jasmine’s place , I broke away from their grip, wobbling to the window.
The glass was cold against my forehead as I pressed into it, exhaling long, fogging the pane. Outside, the streetlights glowed against wet asphalt, the city still dripping from last night’s rain. Behind me I heard Jasmine and Tessa whispering, their voices low, scared. Tom hovered near the door, useless but present.
"What a great way to start the day, huh?" My words slurred around the cut lip, but I forced a crooked grin anyway.
"Don’t joke," Jasmine snapped, voice cutting through. "Not right now. Don’t even talk."
I let my eyes shut, letting her scold settle. She wasn’t wrong. My body screamed with pain every time I shifted, but silence felt heavier than words.
Tom’s phone buzzed. He squinted at the screen, thumb swiping, then looked up. "Kim pulled the car over. She’s waiting in front."
Jasmine nodded, determination replacing panic. "Come on."
I walked toward the door and stepped outside the corridor. "Ugh... god..."
She yanked the elevator door open, and the four of us shuffled inside. I slumped against the mirrored wall, sweat running down my temple. The world tilted, heavy and quick, like the elevator was dropping me straight into the pit of my stomach. My knees threatened to give out again, so I pressed harder into the mirror, eyes shut, fighting the spin.
The ding jolted me back. Jasmine slipped her arm around me again, and we walked out into the lobby. Tom hurried ahead, shoving the door open with his shoulder. The cool dawn air slapped against my overheated skin, and for a second, it was the only thing keeping me upright.
Kim’s car idled on the curb, hazards blinking like a frantic heartbeat. She was behind the wheel, pale, lips pressed tight.
Getting in the car was a whole battle of its own. Tom grabbed my right arm, Jasmine on my left, Tessa steadying me from behind. I muttered curses through clenched teeth as my ribs screamed. The fever didn’t help—my head swam like I was drowning on dry land. Finally, they got me folded into the backseat, my body sinking into the upholstery with a groan. Tessa climbed in beside me, Jasmine on my other side, keeping me upright between them. Tom shut the door, then jogged around to the passenger seat.
Once everyone was in, Kim shifted the gear, face still tight as she checked the mirror. "Who was that?" she asked, eyes flicking back at me. "We should call the authorities and let them know about this."
I dragged in a shaky breath, staring at the roof of the car. "It’s fine," I muttered. "I just don’t wanna deal with that right now."
"Not fine," Jasmine said sharply. Her hand gripped my arm hard, like she wanted to shake sense into me but was scared I’d break apart if she did. "He beat the shit out of you. He threatened us."
"I know," I said, closing my eyes again. "But not right now. Please. Later."
The car rolled forward, tires hissing over wet asphalt, hazard lights clicking off as the world outside blurred past.
Just then, I cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, wait, beat the shit out of me? You held me back."
"Yeah. He was turning purple. I swear his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets," Tessa said. "I’d rather you get beaten down than thrown into jail."
"How lucky I am," I muttered, then coughed. "Ugh... shit."
As my vision blurred, Jasmine gently cradled my face and rested it on her shoulder. Five or ten minutes later, I passed out from exhaustion and the beating I’d taken. I mean, I knew how to take a hit—growing up in the city’s roughest ghettos taught me that. But being sick sure didn’t help.
What a shitshow.
—
About a week later, I was finally starting to feel human again. Sitting down and getting up didn’t send knives into my ribs anymore, and the bruises faded into ugly yellows instead of deep purples. Work felt less like torture, too. The only thing still eating at me was—Jasmine and Tessa holding me back when I got the upper hand. Shit. If only they didn’t...
And... ugh. I missed the massage session with Anotta. Damn.
By the time I got home, it was nine. Sun long gone, city humming outside the window, another shift over. Richard had called out, so I’d had to cover. Lucky me.
I slid the spare key into the lock and turned it. Jasmine trusted me enough with one now. That thought alone made me grin.
"Hey," I called as I stepped inside, tossing the keys on the counter. "Anyone home?"
"Taking a shower!" Jasmine’s voice echoed from the bathroom. "Welcome."
I shut the door and leaned against the counter, smirking. "Is the door unlocked for little ol’ Evan?"
A pause, then a click. "It was, but now it’s not."
That made me chuckle. I kicked my shoes off and started toward the bathroom, steps slow, anticipation heating my chest. The sound of running water grew louder, steam leaking from the cracked frame.
I pushed the door open.
Jasmine stood naked, back to me, about to step into the shower. Water misted her skin, droplets catching the bathroom light.
"Damn," I muttered under my breath as I walked toward her.
She glanced back over her shoulder, smirking. "Took you long enough."
"I had to admire the view first."
Her smirk widened. She reached for me, tugging at my shirt. As she peeled it upward, my ribs protested, and a groan slipped out before I could swallow it.
"Still sore?" she teased, eyes flicking down my chest.
"Only when you touch me," I shot back, voice low.
"Mm. Poor baby." She pushed the shirt off me completely, her fingers grazing over the faint bruises scattered across my ribs. I hissed, low and sharp, but she only smirked at the sound.
Then her hands went lower. She tugged at the waistband of my pants, her knuckles brushing my stomach as she unbuttoned them. The fabric slid down my thighs. She crouched slightly, hooked her fingers into my boxers, and pulled them halfway. My cock sprang free, half-hard already, her eyes dropping to it.
"Ohhh," she hummed, fingers curling around me through the thin cotton still clinging halfway down my legs. She gave me a slow squeeze. "Didn’t take long, did it?"