Chapter Nine: She's a Kicker

The Devil's Kettle Community Rec Center got shut down when I was seven or eight. The builders discovered asbestos in its foundation, and since a lot of lazy parents brought their annoying kids there to splash around in the pool and struggle with the rock-climbing wall, the company who'd built it feared they'd be sued for endangerment. So they closed it down.

I actually remember my mom taking me there when I was little and trying in vain to teach me how to swim. I thrashed about like an epileptic seal until my mother decided that maybe I just wasn't cut out to be a swimmer. "You shouldn't have made such a scene, Needy," she told me as she toweled me off after the harrowing experience. "The lifeguards thought I was trying to drown you."

Since then, I'd tended to avoid the water, even at pool parties, where Jen ran around flaunting her bikini body. I usually sat there with my toes in the water and hoped Chip decided to come, or that she'd tear herself away from whatever boy she was planning on boning and come hang out with me.

But I'm getting off-track. I knew we were at the DKCRC even before I'd opened my eyes. The smell of sweat, mold and chlorine filled my nostrils, triggering a coughing fit. I opened my eyes and watched as little colored dots swam in front of my vision before slowly fading. God damn, my head hurt. I tried to remember what they'd told us in Health about head trauma and concussions, but then again, I'd never really paid attention in that class.

As soon as my vision cleared, I hoisted myself into a sitting position with shaking arms and looked around. I was lying on an exercise mat in one of the Rec Center's old yoga rooms, or whatever they were called. A line of dusty, cracked mirrors stared unblinkingly at me, and I caught my own reflection.

I looked like hell. My makeup was smudged, my lips were dry and cracked, and several cuts and scratches covered my cheeks. I ran my fingers over them and winced as my face stung. Those must've been from the car crash.

The car crash–Colin. Where was he?

I staggered to my feet, fell, and managed to get up the second time by gripping the mirror's wooden balance bar. I held onto it and took deep breaths until I felt steady, and then started towards the door of the yoga room.

The door sported a square glass window in the center. I pressed my face up against it, peering down the empty hallway. Graffiti adorned the walls, and litter lay strewn across the crumbling linoleum floors, but there were no signs of anyone else being in there.

And then someone rounded the corner. I gave a little shriek of surprise and backed up as the figure approached the window. At first it was too dark to tell who it was, but as he neared I recognized him as Dirk, the bass player.

He stopped in front of the window and stared in at me. "Let me out!" I shouted.

After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head. That moment, the uncertainty in his eyes, was all I needed. He wasn't like Nikolai. He wasn't dead set on whatever it was they were doing. And I could work this to my advantage.

I pressed my open palm against the glass window. "Please," I begged, making my voice sound soft and shaky. "Please let me out."

This time he glanced nervously over his shoulder before holding a finger to his lips.

"Answer me," I pleaded. "Please…"

"I–hold on," he said, his voice sounding warped from the other side of the door. He pulled a bunch of keys from his pants pocket and flicked through them until he found the right one. I took a step back as he twisted the key in the lock and opened the door. I was all set to knee him in the gonads and make a run for it, but he closed it quickly behind him. "You have to be quiet," he cautioned. "Sound carries well here. Nik could hear you."

"What does he want with me?" I demanded.

"He wants to sacrifice you."

My stomach twisted up, and I could feel bile rising in my throat. "Why? You already have everything you could possibly want…"

Dirk gave a hollow laugh. "If only that were the case. Nik thinks it's not enough. It's crazy, y'know?" he said, almost to himself. "We used to just jam in my garage and…"

I cut him off. "But what do you want with Colin?"

"We didn't want anything with him. He got in the way, and Nik decided to make him part of his plan."

"How?"

"I'm not exactly sure. He's being really secretive."

I groaned. Could he have possibly been less helpful? "You can't let him do this. This is insane."

"I can't stop him…" he paused. "…what's your name, anyway?"

"Needy," I supplied.

"Needy." The way he repeated, the way his lips formed the words, the way he looked off, over my shoulder as he said it, made me realize something.

He liked me. The bass player of Low Shoulder had a crush on me.

Well, Needy, I thought. How am I gonna make this part of my master escape plan?

…

So her name was Needy. Dirk turned it over and over in his head. It must have been a nickname or something, since nobody would name their kid Needy by itself. It was strange, he'd expected something different…

His gaze fell on her. Even with her face all cut up and her dress in ribbons, she looked beautiful. Like something from a kid's story, the princess who fought her way through the brambles.

She was looking up at him with shining eyes. Without her glasses, he could really see how big they were. Big and soulful. "You have to help me, Dirk," she said, choking back a sob. "I know you're not that kind of person. I know you're a good guy."

The way she said it tugged at his heart. She's right, he thought, sighing. I never wanted to do this.

"Please help me, Dirk," she whispered. "Please."

She reached forward and grabbed his hand, bringing it to her mouth. Still gazing at him with those enormous eyes of hers, she pressed her lips against his fingers.

A thrill went through Dirk's body. Instinctively, his other hand rested on the back of her head and he leaned forward, his lips meeting hers. She hesitated and then reciprocated, bringing him to the ground with her. She rolled beneath him and parted her legs, twining them around his waist. He shifted on top of her, hoping she couldn't feel his enormous boner through her dress.

"Come on, Dirk…" she moaned softly, sending a hundred chills down his spine. "Show me what you can do…"

…

I awoke with the biggest headache I've ever had. I looked down…whoa…a knife wound? When had that happened?

Oh, yeah.

"FUCK!" I shouted, launching myself up. I was stopped at a certain point. There was rope around my wrists, tethering me to a metal hook on the concrete floor.

Suddenly a large black boot loomed into view, the kind rockstars and punk douchebags wear. It came down on my chest, and I heard myself give an inhuman roar of pain as the boot's heel dug into my stab wound.

"Shut up, kid."

My cries choked off and I huffed for air, glaring up at the owner of the boot, the lead singer of the band that had been performing at prom.

"That's better. Now do you know why you're here?" he gave a roll of his heavily lined eyes. "Oh yeah, that's right, it doesn't actually matter why you're here to you. It matters a whole bunch to us. See, kid, you and your little girlfriend are here to skyrocket us to fame."

"You're already famous, dumb-ass," I growled. His boot came down on my wound again and I clenched my jaw to keep from yelling.

"Did I tell you to give me your input on my plan? No, I didn't. And fame is great…but we don't have enough. We're one-hit wonders, let's face it. And I want to be more. I'm talking Grammy's…world tours…pussy by the ton." He laughed. "And to get all that, I'm gonna need to kill Blondie."

"You need…a virgin sacrifice…"I managed to gasp, though it wasn't easy. "She…Needy…isn't a virgin."

"No need to lie to save your little damsel," Nik replied, a sneer on his face.

Oh, boy. And the truth shall set you free? Bullshit.

…

I stayed on my back, waiting for Dirk to finish.

He wasn't being too rough, that wasn't the problem.

He wasn't mean at all, that wasn't the problem either.

He just…wasn't Colin.

I mean–Chip! He wasn't Chip.

Oh, bullshit, Needy, I thought, gritting my teeth as Dirk groaned and finished. Luckily, he'd had a rubber on-hand. What a gentleman.

"So," I said, pushing my voice to be as seductive as possible. "How was that?"

"That was…whew. Fucking amazing," he panted, running hand through his disorderly hair and wiping his forehead.

"So will you help me?" I asked, looking up at him. I reached out and touched his cheek. "Come on, Dirk. You wouldn't let me go like that, would you?"

He swallowed. "I mean…I guess you're of no use to us."

"Exactly," I pushed.

He looked away as he buckled his pants and his belt. "I'll see what I can do," he muttered, turning and closing the door, locking it behind him.

I rolled up slowly into a ball. My skin was sticky with sweat, from his mouth, his fingers all over me. My body ached lightly.

I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep.

a/n: I'm sorry for the offing year-long wait! My life has been twelve kinds of intense, and I really had no time to get back to this. This is the beginning of the end, if you can't tell, and more will come as soon as possible, I promise!

Thanks to my ever-dedicated reviewers and fans!