The Balled And The Beautiful: A College Sports Romance Story (6 page)

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Downed By Billions

A Dollar Waiting On A Dime

By Nicole Chance

This was not the right street…

Amanda glared down at her phone, gritting her teeth in frustration as the tiny 'no signal' indicator continued to flash. The buildings seemed to loom up around her as she glanced up from her phone nervously.

Athens was a sprawling metropolis. The map on her phone had led her further away from the brightly lit Plaza and all its restaurants and shops–the streets had become quiet and narrow.

She swallowed down a wave of fear. Her hands were prickly with anxiety. She tapped at the screen on her phone once more, out of frustration, but it continued to flash up at her. Glancing up from the bright and useless touch-screen, her heart raced as her eyes fought to adjust to the darkness. Shadows danced around her as she shifted nervously, her phone a tiny beacon in the night. The realization had her quickly shoving it into her pocket. Without the distracting light, her eyes would adjust to the night more quickly.

The buildings were old and shabby, appearing to standing by a thread. The street was uneven cobblestone, gaping in places–it clearly hadn't been cleaned in months. She could still hear sounds of traffic somewhere off behind her, but she could hear nothing nearby, aside from the occasional cat yowling at the bright moon, or the shout of an arguing couple in the rooms above.

Amanda tightened her grip on her purse, spinning on her heel to head back the way she had come. She would just head back to where she could get reception and figure out where she had gone wrong. Simple. Not a problem.

Her stomach twisted violently when out of the corner of her eye she saw a pair of shadows break away from the deeper shadows of a nearby overhang, falling into step behind her. One of them whistled, the pitch low, but it seemed to echo around her. She forced herself to stare straight ahead, her stride lengthening, as her breath began to pant.

The two men kept pace behind her as her heart stuttered in fear. She grabbed desperately at her thoughts as they flew through her mind, searching for anything that could be helpful. Aim for the nose. Or was it the chin? Stomp on their instep. Was she supposed to scream or not? The thoughts collapsed into a tangled mess of panic and she gave up any pretense of calm, breaking into a run. When the two men didn't increase their pace, elation flooded her, making her feel lightheaded in relief.

But the respite didn't last long. Before she could make it even as far as the next intersection, another pair of shadows stepped into the light of the moon. The man on the left grinned at her crookedly as she skidded to a stop. She glanced back–her panic rising even faster than before as the first two men continued their approach. The smiling man cooed something in Greek, offering one of his hands to her. She winced back but immediately stumbled forward with a shriek when she came into contact with another warm body behind her. The men had caught up with her, more sooner than she had expected.

"Hello, princess," the man behind her teased, his English accented and rough. "You lost?"

She shook her head mutely, taking a step to the side as an attempt to get around the man in front of her. He shifted with her, his grin only widening.

"What? Don't have time for us? Come on princess; give us a smile. We just wanna get to know you!" A painfully strong pair of hands wrapped around her arms. She took a deep breath to scream but the smiling man slapped her, hard. The pain set her gasping, her head spinning. Her knees shook in terror and confusion and she yanked against her captor, her arms screaming at the movement. It did no good. The man’s grip only tightened as the other man pulled out a burlap sack, from his where it had been tucked into his back pocket.

She jerked back in horror, twisting as far as she could. The movement only pressed her face closer to the cloth that was being pressed against her nose and mouth. The sticky sweet smell burned as she sucked in a breath and tears began to well up in her eyes. The world seemed to sway, and there was a ringing in her ears that set her head pounding. She held her breath for as long as she could, struggling to knock the cloth away, but the man kept it clamped tightly to her face. Her second deep breath had her blinking rapidly, fighting back the growing darkness at the edges of her vision.

"HEY!" The sudden shout seemed to surprise them. The man holding her slightly loosened his grip, and she lurched forward. One of her arms ripped free, but as she turned to pull her other arm out of his hold, she found the world shifting beneath her, as her legs fell limp beneath her. The only thing that kept her upright was the agonizing grip of her captor.

"Let her go." The new voice was sharp, with a vaguely English accent.

"Get lost, asshole," the man growled. "Or my boys will have to help you on your way."

"I said, let her go," the voice snapped again. Amanda tried to look up towards her would-be savior, but her head was heavy and her eyes didn't seem to want to open. When the hand keeping her up suddenly let go, the ground rushed up to meet her. She barely got her hands beneath her in time to keep from hitting the cobblestones.

The sounds of a scuffle broke out around her. It wasn't like the movies, full of shouting and the sound of flesh on flesh. As she fought to look up she could only hear occasional grunts of pain and the shuffle of feet. The road was cold and wet beneath her. As a wave of nausea hit her, she gave up the fight to raise her head, letting her cheek fall to the slick stone.

A shout of pain jerked her back from the edge of unconsciousness.

"Bastard!" the man shrieked angrily. His voice was moving away as four sets of footsteps disappeared down the street.

A hand pressed gently against her shoulder, and she flinched. The hand remained steady on her shoulder and the unfamiliar voice spoke again.

"Miss? Are you alright? Can you sit up?"

She managed to lever herself up enough to look up at her rescuer. The light of a nearby window was enough to reveal him, and she couldn't help but stare. He was
lovel
y. His soft brown eyes were full of concern. High, sharp cheeks were flushed with exertion and full lips were open slightly as he panted. She swallowed, trying to push herself upright without looking away as her found her gaze caught up by an angular nose, square jaw and broad shoulders.

He shifted closer. His warm heat and the scent of sweat, soap, and something indescribably masculine filled her senses. He managed to get a strong arm wrapped around her waist and together they lurched upright. Her heart thudded painfully and she looked at him again, surprised by the strength of her reaction to his touch.

But as they stood, her world shuddered, and she could feel the blood rushed from her face. The world went dark, and the last thing she heard was his deep, rumbling voice swearing as he pulled her even closer. But the last thing she
felt
, was safe.

Her head was pounding as she swam through the murky dreams of the man’s brown eyes. Her mouth felt like she had been chewing on cotton balls, and her eyes burned painfully as she fought to peel them open. Bright light blinded her, and the sounds of someone moving on the other side of the room had her tensing once more in fear.

Where was she? This was definitely not the tiny room she had rented; the light proved that. Her tiny hotel room's only window had been directly beside the wall of the next building, so close she could have reached out to touch it… if it had not been covered by security bars. As her eyes adjusted to the bright morning light, a warm breeze swept over her from the open balcony, easing her headache a touch. The gauzy white drapes danced in the warm wind, and through the double doors she could see the spread of the city. The sun was high in the sky, and she could hear the sounds of Athens below as she stared out at the city. The Acropolis reached up from the center of it, drawing her gaze, and the absent thought that she had missed her booked tour flashed through her mind.

Well, that was one down payment she wasn't getting back.

Finally, taking a deep breath through her nose, Amanda cautiously pressed herself up and glanced around. The sound of the sink turning on in the bathroom had her drawing back into the surprisingly luxurious pillows stacked behind her. She glanced down, running her hands over the gorgeous white bedding absently.

This was no bargain hotel. The room was bright and airy, decorated in the Mediterranean style of white and pastels. The bed itself was huge and unbelievable soft. A half wall separated a sitting room from the bedroom where she lay, complete with a big screen tv murmuring softly. She peeled back the covers as quietly as she could, glancing down at herself as she did. She was still fully dressed, much to her relief except for the light leather jacket she had worn the night before, and her shoes. A quick glance found them sitting nearby on another crisp white chair.

The sound of running water stopped and she froze, fear buzzing in her veins. The man from the night before stepped from the bathroom, wiping his hands careless on a white hand towel. His expression was sober when it fell on her. Her memories of the day before were fuzzy, blurred by whatever that cloth had been soaked in, adrenaline and fear. But when he opened his mouth his voice was the same deep, rich baritone she had dreamt of all night.

"You're awake," he greeted. "I'm glad. I was afraid you hit your head when you fell last night."

She shook her head mutely, hands clenched in the bedding as she stared up at him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thin waist, but her gaze only lingered there for a moment before being swept up in his own. His brows were furrowed and he dropped the towel on a nearby counter as he made his way towards her. His eyes were the brown of fresh earth, warm and with the promise of life. She swallowed as he came to stand beside the bed, leaning down to examine her.

She could feel her cheeks flushing as he gazed deep into her eyes, touching her chin gently and tilting it from side to side. Gentle fingers sent a fission of energy through her, and she hoped that he didn't notice her breathing speeding up.

"Your pupils look fine. How's your head? Anything hurt?" he pulled away abruptly. He rubbed at the hand that had touched her, glancing down at it with a frown.

"It's-" her voice caught and she cleared her throat before she tried again. "It's fine. I'm fine. I...where am I?"

Other questions filled her mouth but she refused to let them out. 'Who are you?' was definitely top of the list, but it was quickly followed by 'Why am I here?' and 'What are you going to do with me?' He had saved her, that much was clear, but why was she
here
? Why hadn't he contacted the police, or the hospital? Why-

"You're in my apartment," he replied quietly, turning and making his way to a coffee maker that was clearly eons above the one that had been tucked into a cupboard in her cheap hotel. "We were only a few blocks away when I found you, so I brought you here and let you sleep off the chloroform."

She blinked, her slow moving thoughts finally catching up.

Apartment? She had been so sure this had been a hotel room. Standard, though nice, furniture. Generic paintings on the walls. She glanced around surreptitiously, as he poured himself a cup of coffee, but it only reinforced the notion. No photos, no nick knacks, nothing at all in the way of personality. If the place hadn't come already furnished, she would eat her hat, but even so she would have expected...something. Something that could give her some kind of insight into her savior. Or her new captor.

"Um...why?" she asked quietly. "Would you like some coffee?" he asked at the same time. She flushed as he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I find it wakes me up, personally," he replied glibly. She made a face at him before wincing at her thoughtless temerity.

"Sorry," she muttered, blushing. "No, I just...I meant, why am I
here?"

The man paused, before turning and setting both mugs back onto the sideboard. He faced her again, leaning up against the counter, crossing his arms. The shift pulled his shirt tightly across his chest and biceps and Amanda felt a flush rising in her cheeks for an entirely different reason. She shoved back ruthlessly at the rogue thought; yes, he was attractive, but now was
so
not the time.

"Valid question," he replied quietly. "Sorry about that.

I'm sure it wasn't where you were hoping to wake up."

Her traitorous brain was quick to scream the contrary. A gorgeous hotel room, a beautiful man making her coffee. In any other situation this would be her idea of the ideal vacation.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much. Suffice to say I can't get tied up with emergency services right now. I didn't want to just leave you laying on the street though, so I brought you here. You're welcome to use the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up and then I can call you a cab. And there is still coffee, if you want." His friendly smile was strained, not quite reaching his eyes. Amanda found herself leaning forward, curiosity chewing at her.

"What do you mean-" she began. But before she could finish there was a deafening crack from down the hall and the sounds of shouting and pounding footsteps. The window in the sitting room exploded inwards, a round metallic object clattering to the hard wood floors. The man swore, lurching forward to grasp her wrist, dragging her from the bed and onto the floor.

Amanda's thoughts fled as another loud explosion filled the apartment and some kind of smoke bloomed in the living room. Her limbs felt numb with panic as she lay on the floor. Distant shouts filled the room, but the words were just a noisy blur. A dark pair of eyes appeared in her field of vision, narrowed in concentration.

She thought he called her name. She wasn't really sure.

A ragged yell was dragged from her as he lurched away. He reached underneath the bed stand beside them before spinning to face the dark clothed man that came around the corner. A sharp bang made her reach toward her protector, a new wave of panic washing away anything but a desperate need for him to live. That shot couldn't have hit him. It couldn't have.

But he remained standing, and a thud had her gaze shifting to look over at the intruder through the gap beneath the bed. He lay collapsed on the floor, gun laying useless by his motionless hand.

"UP!" Amanda cringed at the shout. When at least her eyes followed his command, he held out a hand to her. The hand that wasn't holding a sleek black pistol. She stared at the weapon, indecision paralyzing her.

"Come on!" he insisted, glancing towards the door. He let off another shot, but the sound of cracking wood instead of falling flesh made it seem unlikely he had hit anyone. "Get up!"

He shook the hand reaching for her urgently. A man holding

A gun, who had possibly just
killed
someone, was offering her his hand. But even as he stood there, pistol pointed towards the hallway, his eyes were gentle.

Anxious perhaps, but gentle. So she grasped his hand, letting him pull her to her feet. It was warm and surprisingly soft, wrapping around hers firmly as he drew her upwards. He tucked her under his arm, shooting towards the door again. She could feel the shot resonate through his body and into hers, his arm tightening around her waist. Another dark figures ducked away from the ruined doorway.

"We need to go," he murmured, his eyes tight with strain. She shouldn't have been able to hear him over the shouting, but it was like his voice followed the reverberation of the gunshot straight into the core of her being.

Before she could say anything he shot the empty doorway again, pulling her back towards the balcony she had been staring out of only minutes before. He backed through the open door, shoving the gun into his pants as they did. He released his hold around her waist, climbing over the metal balcony railing.

"What-" she glanced down towards the street. They were three horribly tall stories up and she could hear men still shouting behind her. Though they did seem to be avoiding stepping into the doorway for the moment.

"Come on," he interrupted. He tugged at her and she grabbed the edge of the railing, staring at him in terror. He couldn't be serious. She could jump from here! It was impossible. She would die.

"You're crazy!" she squeaked, pulling back and stepping away from the railing. His eyes flashed towards the door and for the first time she saw real fear in their brown depths. It only lasted for a moment.

"Please, Amanda, you have to trust me." His eyes returned to hers, pleading along with his words. A shot rang out from the hall, cracking the wall beside the balcony. She shrieked, stumbling towards him. His arm wrapped around her again and all that separated them was the ornate metal.

"Trust me," he repeated calmly, his hand tightly gripping at the back of her cotton shirt the only thing betraying his tension.

And for some inexplicable reason she did.

"Okay," she whispered. Before she could think about it he had lifted her up, helping her clamber over the rail.

"Alright," his voice rumbling in her ear. "Now duck down, move your hands down the rail as low as you can go."

She did as he asked, crouching at the bottom of the rails.

He did the same, one of his hands resting warm on her back.

"Now, I need you to hang from the bottom of the balcony. Just grab that bottom horizontal bar and lower yourself down." She glanced at him in renewed terror.

"I can't fall that far!" she yelped, hands clutching at the metal desperately.

"Trust me," he said again. She swallowed, feeling tears prickling at her eyes.

"Okay." Her voice was wavered, and with his help she shifted, slowly levering herself until she hung, two stories above the cobblestone street. Another shot rang out, and there were footsteps inside the room. The men seemed to have realized there were no more shots coming from their direction. Her fingers burned as she fought to hold herself up. The man followed her down, lowering himself much faster than she did, but just as he hung down beside her his hands disappeared from the rail she held so tightly.

"No!" she yelled in panic. Her heart lurched as she twisted, trying to see where he had fallen.

Warm arms wrapped around her knees. She looked down and found him grinning up at her from the balcony below.

"Let go," he whispered. "I've got you."

She did, hesitantly, but his grip didn't waver. He stepped back fully onto the balcony before letting her slide down until her feet touched the ground once again. His tight arms didn't loosen, and she was grateful for that. Her legs shook as he pulled her through the door of the room below his, barely holding her up. It looked extremely similar to his, confirming her theory that he had gotten it pre-furnished. Thankfully, it seemed that no one was home. They ran, the shouts from above shifting in tone as their confused attackers tried to sort out where they had gone.

The front door opened without protest, and after a quick glance down the hall in both directions they continued. Down the hall, around another corner. Past a set of stairs. Past an elevator. Doorways flashed by, identical and almost hypnotizing. His warm body pressed tightly beside hers was all that kept her grounded and moving.

They finally stopped at the end of the hall at another identical door. She glanced at him in confusion but his gaze was set forward and intense. He pulled away from her slightly, his arm slipping from around her waist. She shivered, feeling suddenly cold as he stepped away. She swallowed a noise of protest and wrapping her arms around herself.

He didn't look back at her, but his hand reached out and grabbed hers.

Calm seemed to bleed from his hand into her. She focused

Her gaze forward, taking a deep breath. He squeezed her hand lightly.

And then he kicked down the door. It splintered near the lock and she glanced at him in surprise. He continued to stare intently ahead, and there was no time for questions before he was pulling her into the room. She expected yells, screams and angry residents but all she got was an empty apartment, bare of even the personality-less furniture that had filled his.

She couldn't help her body’s natural reaction as he pulled her towards the balcony again. She slowed, dragging behind him. Brown eyes met her own and his intense expression softened at something in hers.

"It's okay. No falling this time." She followed him hesitantly and found, much to her relief that this balcony doubled as a fire escape. He wrenched open the balcony door and they stepped out into the shadows between the buildings. He knelt, still holding her hand and released the latch that held the ladder up. It slid surprisingly quietly, leading down to the next floor.

When his hand left hers this time, it was like a physical pain. He slid down the first few steps before pausing and looking up at her.

"I'll make sure you don't fall," he assured her. She

Nodded, jerkily, before turning and making her way down the steps between his arms. He remained close behind her, stepping as she did. The next ladder went even quicker. Finally her feet touched down on solid ground and a sob surprised her as it burst from her throat. She forced back the one that threatened to follow, glancing towards her guide for her next instructions.

His expression faltered as he looked down at her, his determined frown shifting as odd emotions flashed through his eyes. A warm hand pressed gently against her cheek.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I promise I'll keep you safe."

She found her hand rising and pressing against his, nodding. The determination returned to his face. He pulled his palm away from her cheek, grabbing her hand again instead. They ran, this time along the cobblestones, deeper into the narrow alley and away from the main street. Her feet were soaked and cold, her white socks already covered in dirt and grime, but she stayed in step beside him without complaint. He tugged at her hand suddenly, slowing and ducking behind a large garbage collection bin.

She followed and blinked. A motorcycle was tucked into the shadow the bin made; black, sleek and obviously powerful even to her uneducated eye. He grabbed the helmet from where it was hooked on the seat and handed it to her.

"Put it on," he commanded, throwing a leg over the machine. It came to life with a muted rumble. She couldn't help but be grateful that it wasn't one of those ridiculously loud machines she saw so often on the highways at home. That would have alerted the entire neighborhood. She tugged the helmet on, clasping it under her chin.

It was far too big and almost completely covered her eyes, but she slid into the seat behind him and instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist. He didn't bother with any more words, instead hitting the throttle and sending them hurtling out of the alley. They swung onto the street behind the building, bouncing on the uneven stone.

A shot sounded, bouncing off the stone beside them. Glancing back she saw a pair of men identical to those in the room running after them. One held a walkie talkie, shouting into it. The motorcycle sped up and before she could see anything else they darted around a corner and once again the world became a blur.