Bedmates

Hurried footsteps drummed through the empty street as a group of boys chased closely behind another teenage boy in the dark.

He kept glancing back as he ran forward, afraid they might catch up with him.

A loud thud echoed as he stumbled on a rock and fell to the ground.

He groaned as his knees and elbow hit the floor hard. A hiss escaped his lips when his hand scraped against the ground.

The group of boys stopped right in front of him. He looked up in fright, his eyes filled with pain and fear.

This group of friends had been bullying him since his first day in college.

“Are you tired already, huh Louis?” One of the boys laughed, and the others joined in. There were four of them. He squatted in front of Louis and patted his hair.

Louis winced as his cold fingers touched the cut on his forehead.

“You didn’t learn your lesson yesterday, Louis.” The boy pressed hard on the cut and laughed wickedly.

Louis winced again, and the rest of the boys snickered.

He looked up at his bullies as tears slid down his cheeks. His messy blonde hair fell over his forehead and his eyes were red and puffy.

“You’re hurting me,” he cried out.

“Of course. It’s supposed to hurt,” the guy said in mockery.

Louis tried to push the boy’s hand away from his cut, but he couldn’t. His hands were slapped away and he winced.

He hissed again as two more boys squatted beside the lead bully, joining in the fun. They enjoyed putting him in pain.

“Hurry up, Alex, let’s leave before someone catches us,” the last one said, glancing around the empty street.

Alex scoffed and glared at his friend. “Keep watch. It’s midnight already. No one’s coming out. Stop being such a chicken, Jake.”

Alex’s fist slammed into Louis’s mouth and he cried out in pain. The two others punched his stomach and began kicking his legs.

“Stop,” he whimpered, using his elbow to shield his face.

The hard kicks kept coming and he felt weaker. Today’s beating was worse than any other.

“After this, you’ll think twice before letting me take second place on any assignment,” Alex raised his fist again—when a stone suddenly hit his back.

She walked in from the end of the street, dressed in black leather pants and a jacket, combat boots echoing on the pavement.

A scarf was tied around her forehead, holding her hair in place. Her presence froze the air as she approached.

Her black hair touched her shoulders and her slender figure moved steadily through the night. The streetlights lit up her fair face.

Alex moved his hand from Louis’s face and glared at the intruder. His friends stood behind him as the girl approached.

“Leave him alone,” she said coldly, eyes on her fingers as she pulled on gloves.

Alex looked around and smirked. “You talking to us? Or are you blind?” he laughed.

She glanced at him, calm and sharp. “You had your chance to walk away.” Her voice was icy.

Alex laughed harder and turned to Louis. “A pretty princess is here to save you. Aren’t you lucky?” His friends cackled behind him.

“He’s such a lucky boy,” another added.

Louis looked at the girl, his vision still blurry from tears. “Please leave. I can handle this,” he begged.

The girl scoffed, giving him a glance. His lip was clearly busted, and his clothes were a mess. “You seem to be handling it pretty well,” she muttered, stepping to the side.

“You’re really smart, bitch,” Alex said, thinking she was leaving. He turned back to Louis.

Louis spat blood, struggling to sit up. His whole body was aching, and he could already feel the bruises forming.

The girl picked up a wooden plank lying nearby and tested its weight in her hand.

Alex’s friend nudged him, pointing nervously at the girl as she stepped closer. Her voice cut through the air. “Who called me a bitch?”

Alex stood straight and rolled his eyes. “You really asking for it now.”

He nodded to his friends to handle her while he returned his attention to Louis.

One of the boys hesitated. “That’s enough, guys. Let’s go.”

But Alex snapped, “Jake, are you scared of a girl?”

“Time’s up,” the girl said.

In a flash, the wooden plank landed square on one guy’s head. Before the other could react, her fist slammed into his neck. They both dropped with groans of pain.

Jake turned and bolted.

Before Alex could react, her boot slammed into his back. She pressed it down, using her full weight to force him to the ground.

He cried out and collapsed onto Louis, who hissed in pain.

Alex rolled off and scrambled to his feet. He looked around and realized just how bad things were. Two of his friends were unconscious, and the third had run off. Panic hit him as he met her eyes again.

“You called me a bitch, right?” she said, her frosty gaze locked on him. She looked disturbingly calm, like she hadn’t just knocked three guys down.

Alex swallowed hard. She was crazy—he could feel it now.

Louis curled to the side, barely conscious, but still aware of the chaos around him.

The girl stepped forward. Alex backed away slowly, fear creeping into his eyes as he noticed something stitched on the back of her jacket: #5 MMF.

“Shit,” he muttered.

She smiled. “More like bitch,” she taunted, stepping closer.

“You’re one of the MMF fighters?” he asked, horrified. The MMF—Midnight Match Fighters—was an underground casino where people bet on street brawlers.

And she was ranked.

She tossed the plank aside. “I don’t like bullying, so... hand to hand.”

Alex’s eyes darted around for an escape. But behind him was a wall, and in front of him, her.

He realized, too late, he shouldn’t have waited for Louis that night.

The girl looked back at Louis and frowned. Then, unexpectedly, she turned away from Alex and walked toward the injured boy.

Alex didn’t hesitate. He ran.

She crouched beside Louis, scanning his injuries. His lip was split, and there was a nasty bump on his forehead. His clothes were a mess.

“Can you stand?” she asked, tapping his shoulder.

“Thank you... You can go. I’ll be fine,” Louis groaned, his voice barely audible.

She stood. “And leave you out here in the cold? Where do you live?”

Louis shook his head. “They’ll corner me at home,” he coughed.

She stared at the oversized sweatshirt and jeans hanging on his small frame. His face looked pale and scared.

She sighed. “What’s the point of saving you if I just leave you here to die?” She knelt again and held out her hand.

“I live around the corner. You can stay for the night and leave in the morning.”

“Really?” he stammered, coughing again.

He tried to stand too quickly and nearly fell back to the ground.

Gently, she reached out, wrapping her arm around his waist to lift him. He groaned, but let her help.

Once upright, he managed to steady himself, leaning heavily on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” he said, embarrassed.

For the first time, she looked closely at his face. Small, soft features. His blonde hair hung over his bruised forehead, messy but... kind of cute.

His lips were small and rosy, and when their eyes met, he quickly looked away.

“You’re making me regret this already,” she muttered.

The street was empty and still. It was late—no one else around.

She rounded a corner and walked into a small, two-story building.

“I live on the top floor, so hang on,” she said.

He nodded weakly as she helped him up the stairs. He groaned with each step.

“Just a few more,” she whispered, patting his shoulder. He nodded again.

At the top, she pulled out a key, the metal jingling softly in the quiet night. With one hand supporting Louis, she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

She dragged him inside and closed the door behind them.

“Can you stand now?” she asked.

Louis nodded and pulled away from her, leaning on the wall.

“I’m good,” he breathed out.

She took off her jacket, revealing a sports bra. Louis quickly turned his back, eyes wide.

“What are you doing?” she asked, tossing her jacket into the laundry basket.

“Privacy,” he blurted, then winced as pain shot through his mouth.

She walked deeper into the room, pulling the scarf from her head. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders.

“Stop acting so childish.” She kicked off her boots and pointed to the bed. “Come lie down. I’ll heat up some water.”

Louis looked at his dirty clothes, then at the bed. “I’m good here.”

“I’ve had a hectic day, so quit being stubborn and do as you're told,” she said, annoyed.

Louis winced but moved to the bed and sat down carefully.

She started to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist and flinched from the pain.

“I don’t know how to thank you for saving me,” he said, ignoring his aching stomach.

She glanced at his hand, then his face. “You don’t have to thank me,” she muttered.

“But—”

“You don’t have anything to offer me,” she cut in, eyes blank as they met his.

“I have money at home…”

“Look around. I have money. And how much could you even give me?” she teased.

He held up a finger and started counting. “A hundred?”

She laughed and pushed his hand away. “Too small.”

“Two hundred?” he offered.

She laughed again. “Still too small.”

His expression dropped. “Then I don’t think I can pay you back…”

She stilled. Her eyes flicked to his lips as he licked them, moist and cracked.

She leaned in slightly, voice softer. “Are you sure… you want to pay me back?”